"This is why I hate smart enemies." One Warg was nothing to an undead.
Even a whole tribe was just an annoyance. A Firstborn like Ilthin could take care of a monster horde of Warg by herself without breaking a sweat.
The Black Tide, however, was comprised of millions of them and the Warg in front of her carried their collective power, mass, and magical power. Despite its size was nothing much, the creature was a force to reckon with.
There was a limit to the power a regular Warg could amass, but those that had attacked Ilthin all had fur the color of charcoal and eyes red like embers, the sign of a mutated species of Wargs that had overcome such limits.
That along with the hive mind allowed them to pass their power to the closest Warg to the prey and use their shared senses to follow Ilthin's high-speed movements. Yet it wasn't enough.
