Christopher does not rush me, and he does not break the calm he has held through every move so far, and he stands there with that same controlled stillness like the field around us is something he already understands and owns.
The wolves behind him move in clean lines and sharp responses, and the structure he built still holds under the pressure we forced into it, and for a second it looks like nothing has changed and nothing we did mattered.
That is the last moment it feels that way.
I do not step toward him and I do not meet him head on, and I turn slightly instead and look past him through the field, and I raise my voice just enough to carry.
“Pull back on the left and push center early.” I call.
The order contradicts the structure and the timing and everything he expects. The wolv
