The old she-wolf, majestic despite the age that marked her silver fur, approached slowly. Her pale blue gaze, filled with infinite wisdom, rested on Alma, and in her eyes, there was neither judgment nor reproach.
Without a word, Sylvara sat down beside her. A silence fell, but it wasn't a heavy silence. It was a suspended moment, a breath before the inevitable.
Then, finally, her voice rang out, steady and calm.
"You heard the council's decision."
Alma didn't respond immediately. Her claws scraped gently against the earth, and her breathing was slow, measured.
Sylvara continued, her gaze drifting into the distance, as if she were speaking as much to Alma as to the forest itself.
"The Keibster pack is the most formidable in this forest. No being, human or creature, can challenge its strength. And you, as its heiress, cannot be an exception."
Alma briefly closed her eyes.
She knew that. She had always known it. But something inside her refused to accept what seemed obvious to everyone else.
Sylvara turned her head towards her, her voice softer this time.
"For the good of all, you must succeed in your mission."
Alma finally looked up at her. There was a glint in her eyes, a mixture of defiance and uncertainty.
Sylvara looked at her for a long time before adding, more quietly.
"But what you choose to become... no one can decide that for you."
And at these words, Alma felt for the first time a crack in the crushing certainty that weighed upon her.
Her destiny was sealed. But perhaps beyond the forest, another truth awaited her.
Sylvara walked away slowly, her steps measured, as if carrying the weight of centuries and momentous decisions on her back. Her silver fur gradually disappeared into the shadows of the den, leaving Alma alone with her inner turmoil.
She couldn't move.
A strange mixture inhabited her, a sensation she had never experienced so intensely. The idea of leaving the forest, of seeing beyond the treetops, of approaching the human world awakened in her a dull excitement, a curiosity she had never been able to express.
But that same decision terrified her.
This wouldn't be a journey, nor an exploration. It would be a test. An obligation. A mission where she would have to prove, not who she was, but what was expected of her. And if she failed...
She shivered slightly.
Her gaze wandered to the horizon, where daylight tried to stretch beyond the trees. She wanted to believe that this world, beyond the forest, held answers. But which ones? And above all, at what cost?
A discreet movement caught her attention.
Her father.
Ramba stood a few meters away, straight and motionless, watching her without a word. His expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed in silent gravity. He knew how she felt. He knew that this mission was not simply a test, but a condemnation in disguise.
For a moment, Alma wanted to believe he would say something.
That he would reassure her. That he would finally tell her what she wanted to know.
But he did nothing.
He stood there, looking at her, without trying to console her or warn her.
And Alma understood that from now on, everything rested on her.
She was alone facing her destiny.