The sky over the lion tribe was gray and heavy that morning. The wind smelled different. It no longer carried only the scent of trees and dry leaves.
There was a cold, sharp smell that made people's breath turn white when they exhaled.
Isabella stood on the newly built stone wall with her fur cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Her stomach was heavy and round.
When she lowered her head, she could no longer see her feet. Only a fluffy layer of fur and the curve of her belly filled her vision.
She still remembered when this place had only a few broken huts and frightened men who thought surviving one more day was good enough.
Now there were solid walls, watchtowers, storage pits, and patrols changing shifts with steady footsteps.
Under the wall, the villagers moved around like busy ants. They wore thick, padded clothes that the women had sewn.
The stitches weren't that bad, but some sleeves were different lengths, yet at least everyone was warm.
