LANDON
The room fractures.
Not into violence.
Into noise.
Accusations overlap, chairs scrape, someone swears loudly near the back, and for half a second the elders look almost grateful for the chaos because chaos is easier to redirect than clarity.
That half second is all I give them.
I step forward.
I do not raise my voice.
I do not slam my hand against the table.
I let the noise continue for three breaths, then I straighten fully and let silence become the command.
It moves outward like pressure.
Wolves feel it before they consciously register it.
One by one, voices taper off.
Forks lower.
Breathing steadies.
I do not shout.
“Patrol leaders remain,” I say evenly. “All nonessential wolves dismissed.”
No elaboration.
No explanation.
The authority sits in posture, not vol
