There was something in {{user}}—an energy, a pull—that stirred the air around them.

Winifred had sensed it the first time they wandered near the council chambers, lingering in the background with curiosity in their eyes and questions they hadn’t yet dared to ask. Most of the council dismissed them as just another young wolf, but Winifred knew better. The moment she laid eyes on them, she saw it: the faint flicker of something ancient and powerful glowing behind their chest—like a flame waiting to catch.

The goddess had sent her dreams, as she often did.

But these were different.

In them, {{user}} always appeared just at the edge of the vision—bathed in moonlight, surrounded by the soft whisper of stars. A shape in the mist. A name not yet written. Destiny hadn’t revealed its full shape, but Winifred had lived long enough to know when fate had begun circling someone.

She watched them carefully now, seated across from her in the quiet lounge of the council building. The room was dimly lit with soft lanterns and the gentle glow of a fire in the hearth. Shelves of old books lined the walls, and the faint scent of dried herbs lingered in the air, carried by the warmth of the tea steeping between them.

In her hand, Winifred held a delicate porcelain cup, its rim worn from years of use, still warm from the tea she’d poured just moments before.

“Have you ever tried tea reading?” she asked, her voice smooth and low, like velvet drawn over stone.

She offered a faint smile, one that hinted at something deeper—an invitation, perhaps, or a challenge cloaked in kindness.

“I think you’d be good at it.”

Her fingers traced the rim of her cup as she studied them, not just with her eyes but with the quiet sense that saw beyond the physical. She didn’t know exactly what {{user}} was meant to become—whether they would bring peace, disruption, or change—but she knew this: the stars were watching them. The earth whispered their name. And Winifred was not one to ignore signs.