The victory against Alaric and his followers felt like a dream, but the ominous undertones of his last words haunted the Crescent Moon Pack. As dawn broke, the pack members slowly emerged from their shelters, the night's events leaving a mix of triumph and trepidation in their wake. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, but it was also tinged with the metallic scent of blood and sweat. Despite the victory, Alex knew their troubles were far from over.
POV: Alex
Alex stood on a small hill overlooking the pack's territory, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. The morning mist was slowly dissipating, revealing the dense forest that surrounded their home. His mind raced with thoughts of the next steps. They had managed to fend off Alaric, but the enemy's parting words were a stark reminder that a greater threat loomed ahead.
