I stepped closer to the balcony and the world before me unfolded.
Not unfolded like land revealing itself.
It bloomed.
Below us stretched a pack unlike anything I had ever seen. Not the rigid stone of the royal pack. Not the dark, looming structures of the Moonlight pack. This place was alive in a way that made my chest ache.
The trees were taller, their trunks spiraled and silver-veined, leaves shimmering in hues of deep emerald, copper, and soft gold.
Vines climbed the buildings as if invited, flowering along balconies and rooftops. Houses were carved from living wood and pale stone, curved instead of sharp, shaped to fit the land rather than conquer it.
Water flowed everywhere.
Not in harsh channels or guarded fountains, but in gentle streams that ran through the streets, under bridges of crystal and wood. Wolves shifted and unshifted, walked freely among one another. Children laughed.
