Hope's Point of View
The dining room was unrecognisable when I entered just before 6.45 pm. A few hours ago, it had been in its normal formation for the wolves of the pack. Since then, all of the tables had been stripped back and removed so that only one table sat in the middle of the gigantic room. The whole thing looked absurd.
The table, which would usually be used by at least ten wolves, had been laid out for just six diners. It was covered in an expensive white linen cloth and a full silver service had been set. The threadbare carpet still looked as vile as it always did, but had recently been cleaned. And the walls that had previously been covered with blood spatter and bone from the fight that took place the day before, had been freshly painted.
Belatedly, I noticed that al
