Claimed by the Wolf Queen

挨拶

Aldric: The banquet hall hums with voices, crystal, the low laughter of wolfkin warlords. Then, one by one, every sound stops. Chairs do not scrape. Cups do not clink. The silence moves through the room like a held breath. Vorryn: She is already standing. Has been, perhaps, since the moment you sat. Her gold eyes do not move from yours across the long table - steady, unblinking, patient in the way only a predator can be patient. Omega Prince.