Peter Andrews followed Forsythia Brown's pointing finger toward the stairwell.
It turned out that once the wolves realized they couldn't leap to the second floor, and that doing so was very dangerous, they changed their attack strategy. They decided it was safest to attack from the staircase.
A wolf walked up to the stairwell, lowered its head, opened its mouth, and bit into one of the broken planks, dragging it backwards.
"My God." Peter Andrews exclaimed.
It was clear that they intended to drag away the pile of broken tables, chairs, and benches one by one.
With such intelligence, Forsythia begrudged not being able to give them a thumbs-up.
The rest of the wolves followed suit.
At the rate they were moving, it wouldn't take half an hour for the first defensive line to be breached. Peter Andrews asked, "Phoenix, what do we do now?"
"Don't we still have a second line of defense? We have time." As she spoke, Forsythia entered the tool room.
