The few runaways from the Spanish army had already spread the tale like fire attacks hay. A demonic wolf crushed their army, made one of their camp vanish under a night. Even parents used the monsters as a pretext to quiet their children's tantrums.
The howl that echoed in the valley first gave them doubts, and the terrific tone it had, the little bit that made it sound less like a simple wolf added to its loudness, send the nearby villages in a state of palpable stress.
"Go!" Laurel ordered with a wisp of the reins.
The horses were paralysed at first but were forced to run toward the threat. A few minutes later, the Pack exited the forest and started to pretend.
In front of them, a three-meters tall creature, hidden under a blood-stained cloth, ran on all fours.
It was fast, extremely fast. But it never looked back at them.
"Is it really him?" Asked Rowan as a shiver ran down his spine.
