Irene had faced many dire wolves on her own in the past, though none quite as menacing as the one willing to face a campfire to hunt prey.
With a constant fire blazing, most dire wolves knew to stay away, but the one in front of them was large and alarmingly skinny. It was either starving or sick - both reasons it could be willing to risk its life for a meal.
Though her ankle was unsteady and painful, Irene still stood slowly and pulled out her sword, being sure not to alarm the beast as it slowly stepped forward.
Her green eyes were full of intensity as she focused on the movements of the dire wolf. She noticed it pause and start to lower itself on its hind legs, a sure sign that it was ready to pounce.
