Catherine's POV
Optics mattered.
She remembered the first time she had watched a system fracture from indecision.
Not here. Not Deephowl. Years ago, in the coven territory where she had first learned magic that wasn't just instinct. The elder who led them had been kind. Thoughtful. Committed to consensus above all else.
When the blight came creeping rot that consumed protective wards faster than they could be repaired the elder had called meeting after meeting. Listened to every voice. Weighed every concern. Sought agreement from all parties before acting.
It had taken three weeks.
By then, two families had lost their homes. A child had died from exposure when the wards failed during a storm.
The elder had wept. Had apologized. Had blamed herself for not moving faster.
But she blamed the wrong thing.
The failure wasn't because of her compassion. It was her belief that justice required universal consent before addressing the crisis.
