High above the bustling territory, Queen Serenya Moongrave sat alone. “They howl without me now… as if I’ve already faded,” she whispered. Down at the den, Beta Dren Volestar licked grease from his claws. “This elk stew? Legendary.” Beta Kira Thornveil chuckled. “Maybe we should crown the cook instead.” Behind a boulder, Serenya’s daughters watched. “She’s been there for hours,” murmured Vaela Duskfang Elira Nightglen nodded. “She’s hurting again.”
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