Elara Thorne POV:
My meeting with Elder Bram was a quiet success. He took one taste of the moon-rabbit stew and his old, wise eyes widened. He spoke of pure life essence, of a blessing from the Goddess herself. He gave me a small, carved wooden token—an Elder's mark. With it, the pack's quartermaster would no longer dare to short our rations. As I left, he looked at me intently and said my bloodline might be more than it seemed.
I walked home, the Elder’s token warm in my pocket, my heart full of a budding hope.
Cole and Faye ran to me the moment I entered our hovel. Seeing the relief on Cole's face was a balm to my soul. He looked me over, his brow furrowed.
"Are you okay, Mom?" he asked, his voice hesitant. "You don't look... sick anymore."
He had seen through my performance. I knelt down and looked him in the eye, deciding in that moment that I would never lie to him.
"Sometimes, Cole, showing weakness is a weapon," I said softly, tapping my temple. "Our strength isn't just in our claws and teeth. It's in here. You must learn to use everything you have—especially your enemy's arrogance and other people's pity—until you are strong enough to need neither."
He nodded, a flicker of understanding in his young eyes. He knew, now, that everything I did was to protect them.
Later, I wove a crown for Faye from glowing flowers I’d gathered in the Sacred Hunting Ground, her delighted giggles echoing in our small home. For the first time, it felt like a home.
That night, after the children were asleep, I looked at their peaceful faces and a new resolve hardened within me. Rations were not enough. I needed money.
I needed it to buy Moira a proper salve for her aching joints, to buy Cole a real training dagger, not a sharpened piece of wood, and to buy Faye a warm cloak that would see her through the coming winter.
I closed my eyes and reached into my inner world. I selected carefully—not the potent moon-rabbits, but some high-quality, energy-rich herbs and a few cuts of normal venison. I packed them into a worn leather satchel.
Under the cover of darkness, I slipped out of the pack lands. My destination was Moonglow, a trading post in the neutral territories, a chaotic hub where all manner of creatures came to barter.
I pulled the hood of my cloak low, hiding my face as I entered the town. The air was thick with a thousand competing scents, a symphony of danger and opportunity. I found an herbalist whose stall seemed less shady than the others.
He initially dismissed my offerings, but the moment the pure, clean scent of the herbs hit him, his eyes went wide. I feigned ignorance, and after a bit of haggling that would have made my old self blush, I walked away with a heavy pouch of silver coins.
It was the first money I had ever earned on my own. The weight of it in my palm was the most reassuring feeling I had ever known.
I didn't leave. I walked directly to the town's apothecary. I held the pouch tight, the list of my family's needs clear in my mind. The medicine for Moira came first. Then, I saw a weapon smith's shop across the dusty street.
My eyes fell upon a small, perfectly balanced dagger with a silver gleam, fit for a young warrior in training. Next to it, in a tailor's window, was a small cloak of deep blue wool, lined with soft rabbit fur.
"The bottle of joint salve," I told the apothecary. Then, I walked out, crossing the street with a new purpose.
"That dagger," I said to the smith, "and that blue cloak in the window next door. I'll take them both."
