The practice session after lunch was markedly different. There was a newfound sense of unity, a willingness, albeit reluctant, to bridge the gap that separated the witches and the werewolves. Though they moved cautiously around each other, their strides were more in sync, and they worked with a quiet efficiency that spoke of gradual, reluctant acceptance. It wasn't perfect, but it was progress.
After a while, Rosalia approached the witches' instructor, Morgana, who was deep in concentration, watching her students reinforce defensive spells. She was a tall woman, stern and meticulous, her piercing eyes shifting to Rosalia as she approached.
"Morgana," Rosalia began, her voice carrying the weight of command. Morgana turned, her expression attentive but skeptical.
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