- The Story of Alderidge . - Chapter 7 - “The Return of the Pale one”

The air smelled of smoke and ash.

The forest no longer whispered with calm; it roared with tension.

Rogues swarmed at the edges of their territory, claws sharp, eyes hungry for blood and revenge. The Clan was ready - or as ready as they could be.

Alderidge stood at the front of the line, muscles coiled like a storm about to break. Her eyes never left the figure emerging from the thicket.

The rogue leader.

Pale as fog.

Empty as stone.

The same eyes that once stared into hers, unblinking, before everything shattered.

A sound echoed inside her mind - sharp, and sudden, like the snap of a brittle branch.

A cry - a thud in the mud.

A breaking.

Bones.

“No - no, no!” the scream that tore the silence.

She didn’t need to see again what had been lost.

Her heart roared in defiance, not in grief.

This time, she would stand.

This time, she would not freeze.

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The war had begun.

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