The current scene was almost a mirror of a distant memory, the first time Noah drank Fenrir's blood. Back then, the shock had been overwhelming, but now, the act felt oddly familiar. Fenrir, with his simple yet loyal mindset, didn't overthink Arachne's actions or the ritual significance of blood-drinking. To him, it was all about pack dynamics. By sharing his blood, Fenrir believed he was reinforcing Noah's place as the head alpha, marking him with the same scent that bound the pack together.
With his powerful arms now reinforced by the dense exoskeleton covering his claws and forearms, Fenrir bit into the back of his bicep. Blood, dark and thick, began to flow more freely than necessary. Though the giant wolf's instinctive action no longer surprised Noah, it still elicited a sigh of resignation. Shaking his head slightly, Noah stepped closer, positioning himself nearly under Fenrir's massive frame.
