In my old scars

The morning had arrived, marking the D-Day for my departure from Xander's pack. As I stood at the center of the pack's gathering area, emotions swirled within me like a tempest. The pack members, lined up in a respectful manner, bid me farewell. Their eyes were filled with a mixture of sadness, pride, and genuine affection.

Xander, with his towering presence and piercing blue eyes, stood at the forefront of the line. His expression was a blend of melancholy and pride as he held my gaze. We had grown close during my time with the pack, forming a bond that went beyond friendship. Now, as I prepared to embark on my journey, his support meant the world to me.

One by one, the pack members stepped forward, offering words of encouragement, blessings, and heartfelt farewells. The air was thick with their whispered voices, their words mingling with the soft rustling of leaves and the gentle breeze that caressed my tear-stained cheeks.

Xander was the last in line, his presence looming over me.