The spark that lit the fire.

It began, as all great things do, with a spark.

Not a grand plan or a polished story, but a single, shining ember of imagination from Nic, a dreamer whose mind often wandered to worlds unseen. Behind his gaze, he envisioned wolves as warriors, spirits who guarded ancient lands, and courage that burned brighter than fear.

In the quiet of his days, Nic let these new friends spin ideas, which ignited flickers of wonder. And the whispers from the wolves grew into something he wanted to share. Although the pieces were scattered, the story was kindled.

And every spark needs a hearth.

That’s where Nic’s mom, Toni, came in with her willing heart, nurturing spirit, and steadfast patience. She didn’t just tend the ember; she gave it space to breathe.

And by divine providence, I was invited to weave the tapestry of Nic’s fictional universe.

As a trio, we built The Pack Warriors as a sentient world alive with adventure. Over time, others joined the circle: Rick, whose voice gave the stories strength; Jimmy, whose music wrapped the tales in soul; Alex, whose wisdom steadied the rhythm of it all.

Each of us brought something different to the fire, and in its glow, we found not just a project but an unexpected purpose.

The Pack Warriors was never meant to be anything more than a story. Yet it has become a reminder… a reminder that courage still matters, that belonging can heal, and that even in a world shadowed by noise, people are still willing to listen for whispers of hope.

As I look back, it’s humbling to realize how big the spark has grown. What began as Nic’s private world has become a place where readers, listeners, and dreamers alike can gather around the same fire.

And the best part?

It is only the beginning.

So, to those who’ve already joined us, thank you for heeding the call. And to those just finding your way here, welcome to the campfire. There’s a place here for you, too.

The Pack Warriors isn’t just a story we’re telling. It’s a tale of small victories ignited flame by flame, and passed hand to hand and heart to heart.

Michele, The Dreamcarver