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<p>Everything was peaceful again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Logan stood at the border that separated his pack from bare land. He slowly looked around, taking in the scene of the battle that had happened so many months ago now. The sight was still as vivid as though it had happened just yesterday. He could still see the Rogue King and all his numbers standing mere meters from where he stood, the sounds of clashing metal and yelling men, so familiar and never forgotten, the scent too, of blood and fear and adrenaline. Everything still looked and smelled and sounded the same, yet so much had changed since then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sighed and looked up into the sky, raking his hand through his ponytail. It was almost springtime already; the whole forest reminded him of the change in season. The tree trunks dappled in the morning light and the shadow of the leaves on his face. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Some of the trees were already bringing out leaves and flowers. The air smelled of over-ripe berries, fading blossoms, and a thousand or more flowers dazing his senses. The attacks and the battle that had taken almost a year in total had weakened him emotionally, he realized. He had spent months after months worrying about his pack members getting killed, in those same months the Goddess had tortured him into finally accepting his mate. But now he was young again, just a little wolf among the trees, not much older than the flowers growing among their roots, nor much taller than the thistles and mushrooms. He smiled, one of the few genuine smiles he had shown since the whole battle started.</p>
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