Runaway Unatha

Four of them stood before me.

Four werewolves with charcoal fur, their teeth gnashed as they forced me back against the splintered cracks of a tree. These creatures were much larger than any I had encountered in my pack, sending shivers down my spine.

My breaths were ragged and uneven, my nails brittle, and my body teetering on the brink of collapse from unquenched thirst and hunger.

I had been dozing off in an abandoned cave south of my pack when distant howls shattered the silence. Even without a wolf's senses, I knew those were not my pack members' howls; they carried an ominous tone.

I dashed out of the cave, the dry leaves crackling beneath my hurried footsteps. Panic surged through me as I glimpsed two shadows trailing me, their forms distorted by the dense trees.

As fate would have it, I stumbled over a broken branch and crashed onto the cold ground. My heart raced, and I struggled to rise, my ankles making a crack.

Before I could regain my footing, a massive werewolf burst into view, baring its formidable teeth at me. This one was colossal, with thicker fur and larger teeth than the rest.

Tears streamed down my face as three more joined the scene, closing in on me with a silent death sentence. My forehead broke into cold sweat, and the overwhelming stench of terror threatened to suffocate me.

This was the end. I was going to die.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the agonizing bite that never came. Instead, the crackling of underbrush indicated another presence approaching, and darkness began to claim my senses.

Who were they? How had they infiltrated our territory without notice? What were their intentions? These questions clawed at my mind, demanding answers I desperately needed.

As consciousness wavered, a husky voice cut through the growls.

"She is the one."