One by one, the Moon Blessed approach the great striker at the center. It's a massive carved pillar, smooth and ancient, etched with silver runes that glow faintly in the torchlight. At its base lies a flat striking pad, gleaming with the faint sheen of enchantment. Each student takes their turn, slamming their fist against the pad. The pillar lights up with a glowing band that shoots upward, measuring their wolf's strength.
Some barely make it a third of the way up. Groans and laughter burst through the crowd. Others hit higher, earning nods of approval and shouts of encouragement from the older wolves watching.
"Strong one there!" someone calls when a boy manages to push the glow nearly to the top.
"Pfft, average at best," another senior scoffs.
It goes on like that, the line inching forward. Heidi's heart keeps up a steady drumbeat of panic in her chest.
"That one couldn't crack an egg, let alone a wolf's skull!"
