Evelyn felt colder in the council room than she remembered. Maybe it was not the atmosphere, but the intensity with which everyone was looking at her. She was standing at the head of the long oak table, its surface scratched from years of important decisions that had shaped Ravenclaw. The cold, hard stone walls seemed to converge on her, and banners with the wolf sign stirred slightly with every draft of air. But there were only half a dozen chairs at the table, and half of those were vacant, their silence greater than any words.
It was her first time commanding as Luna. Her first time facing wolves who had sworn allegiance to the pack, but not necessarily to her. The quiet was thick, hurtful.
