The battle was over, but the aftermath was just beginning. George stood amidst the carnage, his breath fogging in the frigid air. His eyes scanned the battlefield, the once-pristine snow now a twisted landscape of blood, bodies, and debris. The bodies of the mutated wolf beasts lay scattered, grotesque in death, their fur matted with blood, their eyes glazed over in a final expression of rage. Chunks of flesh, both human and monster, lay splattered across the ground, some half-buried in the blood-streaked snow. The charred remains of the giant still smoldered, its massive body emitting an acrid, burnt odor that made George's stomach churn.
