The carriages tumbled forward slowly until finally as a group they got back to the werewolf's main city.
The sky had already brightened up even though the sun was yet to rise. Pale streaks of silver and violet cut through the night, brushing over rooftops and trees alike.
The clouds moved lazily, whispering promises of a new day, yet the air was still cold and heavy with expectation, carrying a tension that even the faint chirping of early birds couldn't soften.
The werewolves had also settled back into their respective houses and it was clear that everything was mostly back to normal.
Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, and faint glimmers of firelight danced across windows.
But underneath the apparent calm, the subtle rustle of movement behind curtains and the alert posture of sentries indicated a nervous readiness, as if everyone could feel the storm that might come again.
