The outskirts of Bloodfang were quiet that evening, painted in the dying light of the sun.
The air was heavy with pine and earth, the scent of rain hovering somewhere distant, promising a storm that hadn't yet made up its mind.
Gonzalo sat alone on a rock near the riverbank, the same river that once shimmered with the laughter of his packmates, his warriors, and most hauntingly Liora's voice.
Now, the water reflected only silence.
He ran a hand through his hair, staring into the current as if it could whisper secrets back to him. His palms were rough, raw from a day spent doing chores no Alpha would ever have been caught dead doing. His once commanding aura was gone; what lingered was a quiet man clinging to ghosts.
He closed his eyes, drawing a slow breath.
"Come on," he whispered under his breath, voice cracking. "Just once. Just… howl again. Please."
The wind shifted but nothing answered.
