Morberg Town, near the eastern part of the Sacred Forest.
The witch, Mora thinks about how feral werewolves, repulsive creatures, sucker. With the distinctive odour of sweaty socks, sporting patchy fur like bedraggled gorillas, and attired in disintegrating scraps of grimy fabric, hand-to-hand combat with the creatures could be downright nauseating.
How had she been suckered into leading the recon? No doubt her team's idea of a hilarious joke at her expense. And not only was her contact officially late, but now she had work to do.
She endeavoured to banish the stench from her nares with short, sharp exhales, but when her lungs burned from the fruitless effort, she gave up. Stalking down the alley, she ducked behind the dumpster that smelled nearly as rotten as the monsters atop the building.
