In the heart of the Silverwolf clan's territory, nestled among towering pines and winding paths, Agatha and Fenris's den stood as a haven of warmth and familial love. Yet, on this particular evening, an undercurrent of tension rippled through the air, casting a pall over the usually serene atmosphere.
Inside their den, Agatha paced back and forth, her usually composed demeanor marred by furrowed brows and restless movements. Fenris watched her with concern, his amber eyes reflecting the flickering firelight that danced across the room.
"Agatha, please," Fenris implored gently, his deep voice a soothing contrast to her agitation. "You mustn't let your fears cloud your judgment. Lucia has adapted so well—"
Agatha halted mid-step, her gaze meeting Fenris's with a mixture of frustration and
