Chimera Fields in the eye of a hurricane, there is quiet

he listened in silence as lafayette spoke with the tremor of youth yet the strength of duty, and then shadess, whose words carried a grave offering that left a shadow on the still air.

he glanced briefly toward kukutux as she answered first, soft-voiced and wise. her response was firm in its boundaries, and he respected her for it.

then his eyes turned to the young wolves once more—first the boy, then the girl.

you came far, he said, his voice deep and even. you came with purpose. that alone speaks of strength.

he let the silence sit a moment, letting the gravity of their plea settle like snow upon stone.

i will fight for your kin. his head dipped, solemn. but i will not accept debt from children forced to carry war. the wrong lies with the men who came for your family. we’ll make sure they feel that wrong in flesh and bone.

his gaze swept toward kukutux, and then to aiolos—acknowledging the unity of moon and mountain. then back again to lafayette.

tell me where you last scented them. how many? how long ago?

there was already frost in his bones. he was prepared to bleed.