The morning sun had only just begun to pierce the horizon, casting golden shafts of light over the Blood Shadow Pack training grounds. Wolves stirred in the chill of early dawn, stretching, leaping, and preparing for the rigorous routines that had become a hallmark of the pack's discipline.
Valkira Stratford stepped onto the grounds, savoring the familiar scent of dew-laden grass and the faint tang of iron from the training weapons. For a moment, she simply stood, letting the memories of her own training years ago wash over her—the sweat, the exertion, the exhilaration of mastering both sword and body in perfect harmony. She had once walked these same paths, trained under the same sun, and pushed herself to her limits alongside her Alpha.
Two loyalist males and a female approached, offering to accompany her. "Luna, you should...." one began, bowing slightly, but Valkira waved them off.
"I will go alone," she said firmly, her voice carrying the quiet authority of the Shadow Luna. "I need to see this place… and them… for myself."
They fell back, giving her space, as Valkira's gaze swept across the training grounds. Wolves of all shapes and sizes moved with precision, their eyes sharp, their bodies honed from relentless practice. Swords clashed, staffs spun, and the rhythmic thud of bodies hitting the ground echoed like the heartbeat of the pack.
Her attention, however, was soon captured by one particular she-wolf. Every motion she made was fluid, every strike calculated, every dodge precise. The way she wielded her sword was not merely skill it was an art in motion. The weapon moved as an extension of her body, the body moving as an extension of her mind. Her attacks were fierce yet graceful, leaving strikes so subtle they were almost undetectable but potent enough to leave a mark.
Valkira's eyes narrowed in interest, her lips curving into a faint, appreciative smile. So, this is the kind of strength that dares to walk alongside men, not behind them, she mused. This one reminds me… of myself.
She thought of the old ways, where many men preferred their women to remain at home, focused on breeding pups while they fought battles. It seemed sweet at first, but when war arrived, those women often lacked the ability to defend themselves, leaving their families and packs vulnerable. That was why, since the reign of Alpha Dramondred Stratford, all women in the Blood Shadow Pack were taught the basics of combat and survival, even if they never chose to become warriors. Every she-wolf had to know how to wield a weapon, how to defend herself, and how to endure the chaos of battle.
But this she-wolf… she was different. Valkira could see it in the way she moved poised, fierce, and unrelenting. The spark of innate strength, coupled with discipline, reminded Valkira of herself at that age: young, determined, and unwilling to be underestimated.
Her curiosity deepened, and for a long moment, Valkira simply watched, lost in admiration for the warrior before her, unaware yet of the destiny the young she-wolf carried, or the impact she would one day have on the Blood Shadow Pack and the wider lore.