The White Lion griffon pens bustled with activity as handlers prepared the beasts for the long journey north. Massive wings stretched and powerful talons scraped against stone floors as thirty-five elite fighters from Teams 55 and 27 gathered their mounts and supplies.
Klaus stood beside his assigned griffon—a battle-hardened male with iron-gray feathers and keen golden eyes. He methodically checked his equipment one final time: cold-weather gear, emergency rations, basic medical supplies, and his standard-issue sword strapped securely to his hip.
Alexandra approached, leading her own griffon—a sleeker female with russet plumage. Her eyes fell to the sword at his side, then narrowed slightly.
"That's not your ceremonial sword," she observed. "I thought everyone who participated in the sword selection ceremony brought their chosen blade on real missions."
