Arriving at the pack house, the commotion outside is immediate_ raised voices, quick steps, a wave of impatience and discontent simmering in the air.
Tanner doesn't need to hear the exact words to know frustration has taken root. Their faces say enough. Tension coils in the expressions, in the narrowed eyes, in the sharp hand gestures exchanged between wolves standing in clusters.
But not all.
But the moment Tanner steps out of the car, with Kyle following behind him, the noise dies instantly.
Not a single voice rises. Not a foot shuffles.
Tanner doesn't pause. His face is carved from stone, more serious than ever. He walks past the crowd, past the small groups still holding half-spoken arguments in their mouths.
He doesn't speak, doesn't nod, doesn't even acknowledge them. Kyle walks beside him, quiet, steady, unreadable.
The council chamber is almost empty. Almost.
