North, Green Forest Pack
Emily stood silently at the entrance to the pack, the breeze ruffling her hair, her eyes following the lorries laden with arms and supplies as they slowly rolled into the pack territory. Wheels rolled, crushing deep marks in the dirt road, and the dull sound, as if it were the prelude to war, beat upon her heart again and again.
Arms gleamed grimly in the sunlight, and boxes of supplies were being carried down. The members of the pack were busily weaving through it, the strong arms of the men bearing heavy weapons, their faces tense, the sweat trickling down their foreheads and dripping on the ground, but no one stopped. The women carried the medical supplies carefully, their eyes both worried and determined. Every man was giving his all to the coming war.
An indescribable melancholy came over Emily. She watched all this with a bitter heart. She does not like war, never has.
