Inside the great hall at the heart of the Moon Tribe, the sound of argument rang through the walls like thunder.
"We should abandon those useless mouths," growled the eldest of the council, his voice hoarse and heavy with years. "They're draining our resources. The tribe can't carry their weight any longer."
The Moon Lord sat tall upon the carved stone chair, her expression calm yet unyielding. "Impossible," she replied. "They are our people, every one of them. I won't cast them aside."
Her words carried the steady confidence of one long accustomed to command, but beneath that tone lay fatigue.
"If this continues," the Elder bellowed, slamming his palm against the table, "our Moon Lake Tribe will perish before the next season!"
The Moon Lord's eyes flashed, bright as moonlight on still water. "As long as I live," she said, "the Moon Tribe will not fall."
