[color=silver]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/RUeksDd.jpeg[/img][/center]
[center][h2][color=goldenrod]Dominic Blackmoor[/color][/h2][/center]
[center][color=black][sup][/sup][/color][/center]
[center][color=goldenrod][b]Location:[/b][/color] • Church [color=goldenrod][b]Time:[/b][/color] • Night[/center]
[center][color=goldenrod][b]Interactions:[/b][/color] • His Pack[/center]
[center][color=black][sup][/sup][/color][/center]

Dom stayed standing at the head of the table, his hand resting flat on the scarred wood, blistered palm still faintly smoking where the silver had bit him deep. He watched every last pair of eyes.. youngblood and old guard alike…and when he spoke, it cut through the leftover hush like a leader should.

[color=goldenrod]“You heard me tonight. You know what’s gotta be done.”[/color] He turned his head, slow, deliberate, making damn sure every last one of them felt the weight behind his stare. [color=goldenrod]“We do this together, bleed together. We don’t run our mouths on the street, we don’t take bait like rabid dogs. We hunt smart. We’re gonna hunt loud when it’s time, quiet until then. If you got a doubt, you bring it home... you bring it here. You don’t ever bring it to an outsider.”[/color]

He let that hang, then he gave them the smallest nod. Something about it felt fatherly. 

[color=goldenrod]“Go on, then. Get to work. Watch each other’s backs. Don’t make me bury another one of you. This packs needs all of us, and I need all of you in it.”[/color]

The scrape of chairs followed, boots scuffing concrete, murmured farewells and quiet nods between brothers and sisters who knew they were stepping out into a different kind of night than they arrived in.

He waited…didn’t flinch when the last door clanked shut and the echoes faded down the hall.

He glanced at the empty chair that used to be Logan’s, then back to Kessler’s battered face, then Lucian’s steady eyes. He didn’t bother sitting. He stood, braced on the table with both palms, burned hand raw against the wood.

[color=goldenrod]“Alright. Just us now.”[/color] His voice was lower than it’d been all night... rough, but honest, stripped to the bone. [color=goldenrod]“You both know what needs sayin’. This pack can’t drift. Can’t be without a second…Not now.”[/color]

He rapped Logan’s ring against the table. [color=goldenrod]“One of you is gonna wear this. One of you is gonna step up. There ain’t another soul I trust for it.”[/color]

He pushed off the table and turned them dead-on.

[color=goldenrod]“I’m not asking you to decide tonight, and it doesn’t matter how. I don’t care if you flip a coin for it or tear each other’s arms off. I care that whoever takes that seat carries Logan’s weight... keeps these kids in line, keeps my blind spots covered. I need someone mean enough to scare ‘em straight, smart enough to keep ‘em alive, and loyal enough to keep me from losin’ my damn head when this gets worse. And it will get worse.”[/color]

He tapped his chest once, right over his heart.

[color=goldenrod]“So say what you need to say. Sort it between you. If you can’t pick then I fuckin’ will, but when Church calls again, that chair don’t stay empty. You understand me?”[/color]

He didn’t wait for a nod. He just met their eyes, one after the other... a quiet command that didn’t need repeating.

Outside, the wind rattled iron. Inside, it was just three old dogs and the ghost of one more.

[color=goldenrod]“If you got anything else for me…please, lay it all on the table. No more time for secrets.”[/color]
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