The clearing chosen for the challenge was older than Grimridge's current structure of councils and seals.
It lay between two ridges where the forest opened into a natural basin of stone and packed earth, the ground scarred faintly by earlier conflicts long before advisory governance softened power into procedure. No torches were lit. The moon provided enough illumination, pale light cutting silver across rock and fur.
The pack did not gather in a roaring circle. They stood at measured distance, senior wolves positioned along the perimeter not as spectators craving spectacle, but as witnesses to necessity. No one spoke. No one needed to. Adrian had forced breach, spilled pack blood inside territory, and returned not in shame but in argument. That alone meant this would not end in exile again.
Adrian stood unbound. Cassian had ordered it that way.
