Chapter 85:
Lyle was paired with an older wolf, one of our more experienced warriors, and I saw the initial awkwardness as they attempted to find a rhythm. They stumbled through the first few maneuvers, frustration crossing their faces, but I could see the determination in both of them. I stepped over, offering quiet encouragement, reminding them of the importance of trust.
As the drills continued, Dante and I moved among the wolves, offering guidance, correcting mistakes, and encouraging those who struggled. Little by little, I began to see the change. Wolves who had once worked alone, who had once viewed each other with wariness or even resentment, were learning to move as one.
It wasn’t easy. There were stumbles, muttered frustrations, and the occasional burst of impatience, but with each attempt, the wolves grew closer, their movements more aligned. They began to trust in the strength of the wolf beside them, relying on each other in a way that went beyond simple loyalty. This was unity born from necessity, from the understanding that survival meant placing their lives in each other’s hands.
After a grueling few hours, I called for a break. The pack gathered in small groups, catching their breath, sharing quiet words of encouragement. I could see the camaraderie building, the bonds that had been fragile starting to solidify. Wolves who had once been rivals now shared smiles, offering each other water and helping each other stretch sore muscles.
Dante approached me, his gaze sweeping over the training grounds with a look of satisfaction.
“They’re getting stronger. Not just physically, but as a unit.”
I nodded, a sense of hope swelling in my chest.
“They’re learning to trust each other. It’s what we need most right now.”
He looked at me, his expression thoughtful.
“And they’re learning to trust you. They see the leader you’ve become, Elara. They believe in you.”
His words caught me off guard, a quiet warmth spreading through me. The weight of leadership had often felt isolating, a burden I carried alone. But in that moment, I realized that perhaps I wasn’t as alone as I’d thought. My pack was with me. They had chosen to follow me, and they believed in my strength, my ability to lead them through whatever lay ahead.
“Thank you, Dante,” I murmured, glancing away to hide the hint of vulnerability I knew he could see.
“I couldn’t have done this without you.”
We resumed training, moving into larger groups, practicing the formations and coordinated attacks that would be essential in a battle. Dante and I demonstrated each maneuver, showing the wolves how to anticipate each other’s movements, how to adjust seamlessly to changing conditions.
As the wolves worked together, I noticed Lyle stepping up, quietly taking on a role of leadership within his group. He encouraged those who stumbled, offering advice with a maturity that belied his years. His actions sparked something within the group, a contagious determination that seemed to ripple outward. I felt a surge of pride watching him, knowing that he was quickly becoming a young leader within the pack.
The sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon by the time we finished the day’s training. The wolves were exhausted, their bodies covered in mud and sweat, but there was a light in their eyes—a fierce pride in what they had accomplished, in the strength they had found together.
As they dispersed, I gathered them one last time, wanting to leave them with words of encouragement.
“What you did today,” I began, my voice steady, “was more than training. It was the beginning of something powerful. We are not just individuals fighting for survival. We are Talon Pack, and together, we are stronger than anything Silas can throw at us.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the group, and I saw several wolves nodding, their expressions resolute.
“When Silas comes,” I continued, “he will find a pack that is united, that stands as one. We fight not just for ourselves, but for each other, for every wolf beside us. And that is a strength he will never understand.”
