*Year: 18900, Month: 25 February, Day: Sunday Morning*
Raising my sword, I observe the wolves emerging stealthily from the shadows, their eyes gleaming with a predatory glint. "You're smaller than I anticipated," I remark coolly as I size up the lupine pack before me. The lead wolf responds with a low growl, triggering a ripple effect as its companions echo its aggression.
As the tension mounts, the wolves behind the alpha begin to surge forward, their sleek forms moving gracefully but with lethal intent. With a calculated step back, I prepare for the impending clash, noting how their fur ripples in the sunlight and their breath mists the air in front of them. The forest around us seems to hold its breath, anticipating the imminent confrontation.
