@Kaleb Woodburn In the elder days, when the forests still kept their secrets and the roads were little more than worn paths through the wilderness, there were tales of a wolf who wandered beyond the warmth of the village fires. He carried no banner, sought no throne, and pledged himself to no king. His coat bore the marks of seasons weathered, and his wisdom was earned not from the counsel of noblemen, but from long roads, bitter winters, and the company of those who stood beside him when the night grew darkest. Some mistook his silence for solitude. Others mistook his independence for defiance. But the old tales spoke of something else. For the wolf understood that no pack endured by strength alone. Loyalty without trust was merely obedience. Courage without judgment was recklessness. And a leader who demanded a standard he would not himself uphold was no leader at all. As for me, they call me Lobo. I've traveled a few roads, stood beside good people in difficult circumstances, and learned that the weight of leadership is seldom found in the authority one carries, but in the responsibility one accepts. There remains an old question I've never found a simple answer to: How does one hold the standard without breaking the spirit of those expected to carry it? So I come to this hall not seeking a place of honor, nor claiming wisdom greater than another's. Merely a traveler drawn to good company, difficult questions, and the understanding that even the oldest wolf has something left to learn. For even the lone wolf knows the worth of a good pack.