Mass release 2/4
It took what felt like an eternity before Aelorin and Arianna broke their emotional embrace. The others cautiously approached, their faces pale and eyes hollow from the chaos of the battle. Aelorin could feel their concern, but he wasn't ready to linger. His sister's safety was secured for now, but his wounds were a constant reminder of how fragile this victory was.
Silently, he pulled away and turned towards the mutilated remains of the hybrid werewolf. Its massive frame lay in pieces, chunks of flesh and pools of dark blood staining the earth around it. The air reeked of iron and death, a suffocating stench that clung to everything it touched.
Aelorin's footsteps were slow, his boots sinking into the mud softened by the creature's blood. His gaze was sharp, unflinching, as he surveyed the corpse. Though the sight was grisly, it didn't deter him. The hunger for survival—and power—pushed him forward.