The aftermath of the battle left the forest eerily quiet, save for the faint rustling of leaves as the breeze stirred the canopy. The scattered remains of the dire wolves painted a bloody tableau on the forest floor, a grim testament to the ferocity of the fight. I crouched beside the Alpha's massive corpse, the weight of its death still hanging in the air.
My gaze fell on the Alpha's neck, where faintly glowing runes were etched into its fur and skin. The markings pulsed faintly, their intricate designs exuding an unsettling aura. The patterns weren't natural; they were deliberate, crafted with purpose.
"Lunara," I called softly, motioning her closer.
She approached silently, her sapphire eyes narrowing as she examined the markings. Her calm demeanor betrayed a flicker of unease.
"These aren't ordinary wolves," she said, her voice low.
"These runes… they're magic. Controlled."
I nodded, running a hand along the coarse fur.
