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Thirst For Vengeance

As Raziel kneeled motionless on the forest floor, disoriented and struggling to piece together what had just happened, time lost all meaning. 

Minutes or hours passed - it was impossible for him to tell.

All he knew was that when he finally started to regain consciousness, the world around him sounded and felt different. 

The chirping of insects and rustling leaves filled his ears once again, replacing the deafening howl and jeering of the werewolves.

Raziel slowly pushed himself up. His head throbbed, his limbs trembled, and his throat felt raw and parched.

The werewolves' laughter had faded, leaving behind a desolate echo of destruction.

He approached the pool of blood where Matron Selene had met her gruesome end. 

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