As the wolf lifted his head to the heavens, the moonlight bathed his features in a celestial aura, casting shadows that danced across his fur like whispers of the night.
With each breath, the wolf's cry resonated with the raw power of the wilderness, carrying with it a fierce determination and a primal instinct. It appeared as a call to surrender, a declaration of dominance that struck fear into the hearts of its enemies.
As the cry reverberated through the trees, he seemed to summon the very spirits of the forest, stirring the ancient echoes of a time when the wolf god ruled the land.
With the presence of the King of the Forest, the mutts that smelled like death, scattered away. Light dispels darkness after all. The mutts that came into being because of a shapeshifter running away from their creator was a weird thought to process. It made Jessamyn wonder if this wolf was their creator after all.
