And even if there had been moon-coins left, it wouldn't have mattered. Edric had already decreed: one copper coin per wolf, per moon cycle.
Enough to kill any illusion that work here would ever pay.
The territory guards didn't truly try to stop the crowd.
After all, with no wages of their own, they could barely feed themselves.
Edric's voice cracked with fury:
"Is money all you people care about?!"
Someone pointed at the moonstone pendant hanging from his belt:
"That gold-inlaid moonstone alone could cover every last one of our back wages! What right do you have to lecture us?!"
"Pay us! Yeah! Pay us what we're owed!"
The crowd surged forward. Edric's face went white.
"These ungrateful wretches! That bastard Ashton must have spoiled them rotten!"
"Rush him! Strip the clothes off his back and sell them for what we're owed!"
"Go!"
"You wouldn't dare!"
Edric staggered as hands grabbed at him from every direction, barely keeping his footing. The cloying sweetness of his scent soured with panic, jasmine oil turning acrid.
"Decree from the Supreme Alpha!"
A column of pack soldiers marched through the gates, hauling chest after chest of royal tribute into the territory grounds.