As Aldren trembled and struggled to stand, its legs unsteady, its head lowered, Lance stepped between them and pointed sharply towards the back, "Leave. Now." The wolf slowly backed away, even though it continued to glare at Emira.
The wolf hesitated. Then, with a low whine, it turned and retreated, limping away into the darkness, its tail tucked tightly between its legs. As the wolf disappeared, Emira turned sharply, and their eyes met.
"Lord Aron Mast," Lance said evenly. "Welcome to the Stormhold Pack."
The words carried across the courtyard, clear and deliberately acknowledging him, but also reminding him that he was standing on the Stormhold Territory.
Aron's lips curved into a slow smile. He inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the reminder with a movement of his head. "Crown Prince Lancelot. It has been a long time."
Lance did not acknowledge the reminder and simply stepped forward and extended his hand. After a brief pause, Aron took it.
