Recognizing the time constraint, he rose to his feet and addressed her, "What say ye, Mary? Should I keep diggin', risking it all, or should we skedaddle back to the tree house?"
Mary extended her arms forward, showcasing her electric powers. Arcs of electricity danced from her left to right hand as she spoke confidently, "Captain, I say ye press on. If the wolves show their snouts, I'll guard ye. And if there be a real monster lurkin' among 'em, we can use yer vines to hoist ourselves up them platforms."
"Smart thinkin'," Jack replied, privately pondering, This might just be our lucky break, and resumed his excavation.
The howling ceased, enshrouding the entire forest in an eerie silence. Only faint gusts of wind disrupted the stillness. The wildlife, birds and crickets alike, fell silent, as if sensing the wolves' presence.
Mary remained vigilant, her crackling sparks not only faintly illuminating the darkness but also preparing her for any sneak attacks that might come their way.
Breathless from his exertion, Jack gasped, "These wolves've been quiet for a bit. Keep yer eyes peeled, Mary."
"Aye aye, Captain," Mary responded, intensifying her powers, casting a wider illumination.
Amidst the silence, a familiar voice pierced through, "What in blazes are ye doin' here? Get back, I say!"
Mary swiftly switched off her electric powers, turning to see Ort flanked by his men, except for Ert, the slender-looking youth with pale skin and long black hair, conspicuously absent.
Ort's expression held a mix of concern and anger as he ordered, "Jack, stop!"
Finally pausing in his digging, Jack stood to face Ort.
Art intervened, turning to Ort, "I'll guide 'em back to safety."
Ort nodded, then directed his frustration at Jack and Mary, "What were ye doin' here, goin' against me warnings 'bout the wolves? Did ye not hear 'em howlin' just a few minutes back?"
Jack, his hands coated in dirt, approached Ort, displaying them as evidence. "Truth be told, Ort, I'm here to claim a treasure left by me father afore he passed. He buried it here."
Ort, dubious, inquired, "Why? Why'd yer father bury treasure? Was he a pirate?"
Jack clarified, "Nay, an adventurer, much like us."
"Jest go back. Tomorrow, I'll bring ye here, with shovels," Ort instructed firmly. "Jest... go."
Both Jack and Mary nodded, expressing gratitude. "Thank ye for yer kindness. We're mighty sorry for causin' ye trouble," Jack apologized.
Led by Art, they followed, the group still stationed near the X.
"Did ye see anythin'?" Art inquired.
"What do ye mean?" Jack queried.
"Nothin', let's move," Art dismissed it.
Traversing the dimly lit path illuminated by an array of candles, a dozen glowing red eyes materialized one by one from the surrounding darkness.
Art, the first to spot them, cried out desperately, "ORT! HELP US!"
Jack and Mary prepared for the impending confrontation. He scanned, counting the eyes encircling them.
Only 12 wolves? Not worth fleein' with her at me side, Jack contemplated.
"Mary, ready yerself for a brawl," he instructed.
Her hands once more sparked with electricity, casting a faint glow, revealing one wolf nearer than the rest.
It differed from regular wolves, sporting a blend of white and gray fur, slightly larger in size, showcasing sharp teeth and four elongated fangs. Its red-dripping saliva hit the ground, resembling blood.
Yet, the most unsettling aspect was its eyes—a radiant red hue with veins snaking across the eyeballs.
Jack discerned immediately that this creature, along with its hidden kin, was no ordinary wolf.
Mary charged toward the wolf, her steps swift yet silent on the forest floor. But the cunning predator leaped higher than she anticipated, eluding her grasp with unnerving agility.
As the wolf landed gracefully, it darted toward Art with a sense of malevolence.
Mary swiftly changed course, sprinting toward the wolf with her hands primed for action.
In a heart-stopping moment, the wolf surged towards Art, jaws gaping wide.
Before its lethal strike, a network of robust green vines exploded from Jack's hand, seizing the creature with a swiftness that seemed almost unnatural.
Simultaneously Jack's other hand swiftly transformed, his nails elongating into lethal claws that he thrust into the wolf's neck with precision.
The sharp sound of claws tearing into flesh reverberated through the night, accompanied by a pained growl escaping the wolf's jaws.
Thrashing violently, the wolf struggled against the vines, attempting to regain its footing. As it rolled and attempted to rise, Mary released a surge of crackling electricity from her hands, enveloping the wolf in a bluish-white glow.
As the first wolf succumbed, the forest briefly glimmered in silence. But rather than fear, the remaining eleven wolves were incensed by their comrade's demise.
Glowing eyes radiated fury, and their collective howls pierced the night, signaling their anger and readiness to retaliate against Jack and Mary.
During the unfolding events, Art remained a passive spectator. The whirlwind of thoughts in his mind prevented him from grasping the adventurers' powers and the wolf's defeat.
Approaching the frozen Art cautiously, Jack and Mary formed a protective triangle, ready for any potential wolf attacks.
Considering the possibility of a group assault, Jack had devised a plan: using his vine artifact to secure a branch, safeguarding Mary while leaving Art exposed.
Surprisingly, despite their fallen comrade, the wolves refrained from advancing and observed the trio with glowing eyes.
Reflecting on the situation, Mary thought, These wolves be strong. If only two attacked now, we'd struggle to defend ourselves.
Art, finally speaking up, trembled as he said, "Wolfor," revealing two flowers retrieved from his pockets.
"This flower be toxic to them even if they breathe its scent. Ye two can use this," Art explained, handing the flowers to both of them.
Recognizing the significance of the flowers, Jack retrieved a handful of Wolfor's leaves from his leather pouch.
"Art, where be the nearest ladder entrance?" Jack inquired.
Art pointed to a nearby ladder, yet the challenge remained: breaking the circle of wolves to reach it.
Despite Jack's suggestion to head there, Art, trembling in fear, resisted, "Nay. Nay. I don't want to die. There's no way we can go there. Let's just wait for Ort," shouting again, "ORT! ORT! OR-."
In his line of sight, he saw Jack holding a handful of Wolfor leaves.
"Will this here be enough?" Jack queried.
Art responded, "Not quite. If they were fully grown, it'd do better, but... They be only halfway grown. They'll work, but at half the strength."
Jack replied, "I've got a good stock. Do I just be tossin' these as we walk along?"
Art, finally feeling hopeful, exclaimed, "Aye! That'll do the trick."
They cautiously began moving in that direction, Jack tossing a handful of leaves ahead.
With each toss, the wolves stationed in front slowly retreated, while those behind cautiously approached but backed away when they neared the thrown leaves of Wolfor.
Reaching the spot with a ladder on a tree, leading up to a wooden platform, Art selfishly nudged Jack aside and swiftly started ascending the ladder.
"Crafty one, that," Jack muttered.
The wolves lingered but were unable to draw closer due to the pile of scattered leaves.
Jack courteously gestured for Mary to climb up ahead of him, which she did, followed by Jack himself.