Loona could barely keep her feet on the ground. She hopped from one side to the other with Ame in her arms, her face glowing with pure joy.

“It was so much fun!” she babbled, nearly tripping over her own excitement. “I didn’t know it was like that! Everything was so beautiful! Your howl was amazing and… and… and—”

Lyara simply laughed, watching the human bounce around like an overexcited pup.

Sant, on the other hand, maintained his Alpha posture—though a mischievous glint betrayed his amusement.

“Lyara,” he called. “Today Moc, Tuja, Barok, and Pinktail return from their mission. We’ll meet them halfway. We leave in five minutes.”

Loona blinked curiously.

“Who are they?”

“Warriors sent to the North,” Lyara explained, steady and firm. “Scouts who checked the territory to ensure the pack can travel safely. Stay close to me, Loona. The night is cold, treacherous… and those wolves don’t like humans.”

Loona immediately nodded, serious for the first time.

“Okay.” She gently set Ame on the ground. The tiny pup curled up and fell asleep almost instantly.

A bit farther away, Inuho was sprawled on the ground, panting with exhaustion. Ravik towered over him like a storm waiting to break.

“Come on, great warrior. Get up,” he said impatiently.

“Ravik… why… why continue…?” Inuho groaned, too tired to even scratch his ear.

Ravik growled.

“You’re with my daughter, but I still don’t approve of you. You’re small, timid… and so far, I’ve seen no proof of your courage.”

With a painful effort, Inuho stood up. His body was covered in scratches, and his hind leg trembled beneath him.

“After everything I’ve already done, you STILL think I don’t deserve to be a warrior?!” he growled, advancing even while limping.

Ravik sidestepped easily and countered with a heavy shove.

“You DO deserve to be a warrior,” he admitted. “I just don’t understand what my daughter saw in you. She deserved someone better.”

Inuho fell onto his back, laughed, and raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe she saw my overwhelming masculine strength… you know… strong, powerful wolf…”

Ravik smacked him with his paw without hesitation.

“Shut up.”

The large wolf began to salivate, his spine arching as his muscles tensed and swelled.

Inuho’s eyes widened.

“H-hey, Ravik… no need for that! It’s just training… I’m not nearly as good as Varrock, you know—”

“You’ll learn now,” Ravik snarled.

“DAD?!”

Aemi’s voice ripped through the air like thunder. She sprinted toward them, breathless with alarm.

“What do you think you’re doing?! None of this changes the fact that I married Inuho!”

Inuho, dizzy, smiled at her.

“H-hey… love…”

Ravik straightened instantly, trying to appear as harmless as possible.

“I… wasn’t doing anything, sweetie. Just… stretching.”

Aemi shot a sharp glare at him and hoisted Inuho onto her back, supporting him with fierce protectiveness. They started walking back toward the clearing.

Ravik followed at a distance, muttering under his breath—probably a collection of proud and creative insults.

When they returned, he gently picked up Lionel’s daughter by the scruff and placed her among the other pups. As he lifted his head, he saw Naja coming straight toward him.

The small she-wolf, tiny-bodied like an eight-moon-old pup, had fur so black it nearly vanished under the moonlight. But anyone who knew Naja knew well: that little frame housed one of the fiercest warriors in the entire pack.

“Sweetheaaart!” Naja chirped, her voice sharp and piercing.

“…Hi,” Ravik grumbled, already knowing she was about to scold him.

“I saw Aemi carrying Inuho while glaring at the trees,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “You intimidated him AGAIN, didn’t you?”

“N-no! Of course not!” Ravik said much too quickly.

Naja didn’t buy it. She bit his ear—hard enough to warn, soft enough not to hurt.

“I told you: if you’re going to do anything to him, make sure I don’t find out,” she growled. Only then did she release him.

Ravik rubbed his ear, sulking, while the two watched Aemi supporting Inuho, who kept switching between laughing and complaining.

“At least she’s happy,” Naja said with a tiny smile.

“She deserves someone truly strong… not that little dwarf,” Ravik muttered.

Naja snorted.

“Size isn’t everything, Ravik.”

He scowled, but didn’t argue.

Minutes later, the entire pack began to assemble.

The pups and the roses walked in the center, protected.

The warriors formed the sides, alert to every sound.

The elders walked ahead, firm in their steady pace.

At the very front, Varroc advanced silently, scenting the air.

And at the very back, as always, came Sant—the Alpha who began last, so he could return first if anyone fell behind.

The night was freezing, but the march was steady—the North was calling.

Loona observed everything.

Inuho walked along the outer edge, sniffing the forest despite his limp.

Aemi carried Ame gently by the scruff.

Lyara stayed close, alert.

A cold wind cut across the path.

Loona shivered and stepped closer to Lyara. The wolf glanced at her from the corner of her eye—checking, protecting.

The march went on. Steps, crunching snow, warriors circling the flanks.

Then a howl broke the night.

Varroc, at the front, let out a sharp yelp—a signal.

The entire pack halted instantly, as if the sound had been a command carved into their bones.

Sant, closing the rear, sprinted to the front.

From the darkness, a tall gray wolf with blue eyes emerged from the trees.

“Sant!”

“Moc!” Sant barked back with relief.

They greeted each other like brothers who had survived war side by side.

“You missed the Night of the Roses,” Sant said, still panting. “What took so long?”

Moc sighingly shook his head.

“Don’t even mention it… Pinktail is furious. Missed the whole ceremony.”

But then his expression shifted.

“Sant… a full day’s walk past Wheat Village—something’s wrong with the forest. No snow. Completely flooded. The trees—gone.” He inhaled sharply. “About thirty fox-tails across. We can cross it, but we’ll need to be fast.”

Sant brightened.

“Could be worse.” He raised his head. “We’ll continue walking all night.”

Tuja approached—thin as a dry branch, almost all bone.

“Hey, Sant! Where’s Lyara?” he asked with a mischievous smile.

Sant ignored him completely and kept talking to Moc.

“Take the newcomers to their places. Rest while you can. We stop only when the moon is at its peak.”

Bork, the chubby, cheerful wolf, trotted up.

“Hey, Sant! I’ll be on my way to my spot!”

They bumped heads like old brothers.

Finally, Pinktail appeared—small, agile, tail swaying like a banner of charm.

“Sant, darling…” she purred. “I’m so irritated for missing such a special night… all thanks to our mighty explorer, Moc.”

She strutted past.

Lyara growled softly beside Loona—a short, sharp sound of dislike.

“That flirt again,” she murmured, then regained her poise. “Loona, stay close to me at all times. Understood?”

Loona swallowed hard.

“Y-yes.”

Sant raised his head and howled—a deep, commanding call.

The pack moved again.

Sant stayed behind, as always—the silent guardian of all who walked ahead.

The moon neared its peak—minutes before midnight.

The pack had been walking nonstop since nightfall.

Loona was on the verge of collapsing. Her legs ached, her eyes burned, but she pushed forward, refusing to fall behind.

Then a shout echoed across the formation:

“Sant! Come here NOW!”
Gohan’s voice—deep, furious.
“I need you and you’re going to FIX this problem!”

Sant’s ears rose.

He knew that tone. Too well.

“Problem,” he thought. “Gohan’s middle name.”

He rushed toward the old warrior.

“What happened, Gohan?”

The elder’s stern face twisted with anger.

“Liral is barely standing! Eldros is burning! Stop being a useless ball of fleas and get the herbs she needs! Bring her apprentice, Mara! Do something—or I will!”

Sant breathed deeply.

Gohan had always been like that—fearless, loud, impossible to ignore. He’d spoken the same way to the old Alpha, Scar.

Sant lifted his muzzle and howled an order through the night:

“We rest here tonight! Prepare camp!”
“Varroc, Ravik, Lira—stand guard!”
“Mara, you’re with me. We search for the medicinal herbs.”
“Come dawn, we hunt… and continue our path.”

The pack began to settle.

Massive bodies lay across the soft snow, forming a living blanket of warmth.

Loona trembled, exhausted but relieved. She nestled into Lyara’s fur, who wrapped around her like a protective wing.

Moments later, Ravik approached carrying Lionel’s baby girl in his mouth. He set her down gently before Loona and Lyara and, with a voice far too soft for a warrior his size, asked:

“Please… you know the others. I protect her, but… keep her safe for me.”

Loona watched the human baby breathe softly, half asleep.

Lyara leaned forward, tucking both girls against her chest.

“Of course, Ravik. I’ll care for her.”

The moon climbed higher.

Silent.

Majestic.

Minutes from reaching the top of the sky—
and minutes from sealing the fate of that night.