In the morning, as per usual, the Pack gathered in front of the arena. Since it was harder for Laurel to stay calm, he was given the wolf mask to hide his red eyes that triggered nearly each time his fighting spirit took over his focus.
Now that the full moon's effect were easy to bear, the two monsters resumed their training.
Facing each other, their stance had changed to fit a low fight.
"No biting." Said Oswald while Laurel nodded in reply.
There was no one to start the fight, only their heated nerves that reacted to each other's rush. For a full minute, the intensity of the fight was at its peak. Their bare-handed blows were so fast the air whistled around them. The power behind each missing hit impacted their balance and the demon's dance, once more, mesmerized every witnesses.
Because of the shape of Laurel's mask and his friendship with the leader of the Pack, the group nicknamed its members Wolves. A perfectly fitting name for the boys.
