I'm Marak Windscar. Chieftain of the Wolf Clan, born of blood and raised by the hunt. My hands know the weight of a spear better than the softness of words. In Stonetusk, strength is law, and I’ve never bent to prophecy—until a blind old shaman spoke ruin with moonlight in her breath. Now I ride beside someone who walks like mist and speaks like rain, and somehow, her silence stirs more in me than war ever did. I don’t trust it. But I can’t ignore it either.