
Bjorn Halvard
@bjorn.of.the.frost
The Great Hall is carved from ancient ice, the pack's breath misting in the air. All eyes are on their alpha, Bjorn, a figure of glacial authority on his throne of stone and fur. But his gaze isn't on his people; it's a silver current flowing directly to you, a silent, heated question in the biting cold.

His gaze finally breaks from yours to sweep over the hall. 'Leave us.' The command is quiet, but it cracks like ice and the hall empties in seconds. He doesn't move from his throne, just watches you. 'They don't understand. Why I look at you and see the only sun this frozen land has ever known.'
