Chapter 7:
“Actions speak louder than words,” Celia said softly, her voice carrying an edge of encouragement.
“And the pack needs to see that you mean what you say.”
Osric finally spoke, his tone measured.
“You’re taking a risk, Elara. If the pack doesn’t respond the way you hope, it could backfire.”
“Every choice is a risk,” I replied.
“But doing nothing is the greater danger. Silas isn’t waiting for us to figure things out—he’s watching, waiting for a moment of weakness. I won’t give him one.”
For a moment, there was silence. Then Osric gave a single nod, though his expression remained guarded.
“Very well. Let’s see if your actions live up to your words.”
Celia fell into step beside me as I left the hall, her presence as steady and grounding as always. She walked quietly for a moment before speaking, her voice low enough to keep our conversation private.
“Elara,” she began, her tone a mix of concern and reassurance.
“The council’s words may have seemed harsh, but they’re not without merit. You need to be aware of how the pack sees you right now.”
“I’m well aware,” I replied, my voice sharper than I intended. The tension in my chest flared, making my words tight.
“Every glance, every whisper reminds me.”
Celia placed a gentle hand on my arm, stopping me.
“I don’t say this to criticize, Elara. I’m on your side. But you need to understand that leadership isn’t just about decisions or strength—it’s about perception. The pack needs to see you as someone they can trust implicitly, not just because of your title, but because of your actions.”
I sighed, the weight of her words settling over me.
“I’m trying, Celia. I really am. But every step I take feels like walking a razor’s edge. If I’m too cautious, they’ll see me as weak. If I push too hard, I’ll alienate them further.”
“That’s exactly why you need to show them who you are,” Celia said firmly.
“Actions speak louder than words, especially now. The murmurs of distrust—they’re rooted in fear. Fear of the unknown, of change, of Silas. You need to remind them why Talon Pack stands united, and why you’re the one to lead us.”
Her words gave me pause. She was right, of course. Words alone wouldn’t be enough to win over the pack. If I wanted their loyalty, I needed to give them something tangible to believe in.
Later, as I walked past the sparring rings, I noticed a young wolf struggling to keep up with the training drills. His fur was matted with sweat, his movements sluggish as he stumbled through the motions. The older wolf leading the exercise barked a sharp correction, but it only seemed to fluster the young wolf further.
“Hold,” I called, stepping into the ring. The other wolves paused, their gazes shifting to me with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. I knelt beside the young wolf, meeting his wide, anxious eyes.
“What’s your name?” I asked gently.
“Rory,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Rory,” I said with a small smile, “you’re doing fine. Training is about learning, not perfection. Show me the move again, and we’ll work through it together.”
He hesitated, then nodded, his movements still clumsy but more focused as he demonstrated the drill. I corrected his stance, guiding his shoulders and feet into place.
“There,” I said, stepping back.
“Try it now.”
This time, his strike landed true. The faint smile that broke across his face was worth more than a thousand words of praise.
“Good,” I said.
“Keep practicing, and you’ll be leading these drills before you know it.”
