Saved by the Sun

After some time of wandering around the forest, Amukelo's exhaustion caught up to him. He found a small niche in a cliff and decided that it was the best place he could find to get some rest. He sat next to the edge of the cliff, and tried to cover himself, as he sat there, he exhaled heavily, and said to himself, "I can't sleep, but if I can at least let my body still for some time, maybe I can get some of my strength back." 

However, his injuries didn't allow him to relax. Whenever he would lean on the cliff's wall, his shoulder would remind him about his vulnerability. As he tried to assess his situation, the rustling sounds came again, breaking the eerie silence of the night. Amukelo forced himself to focus, scanning his surroundings with wide eyes. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to move, to flee, but his exhaustion and the pulsing pain in his limbs rooted him to the spot. Then came another rustle, louder this time, closer. Amukelo's heart lurched in his chest. He froze the pounding of his heartbeat like thunder in his ears. 

"Move!" he whispered harshly to himself, but his legs refused to obey. Fear clung to him like a shroud, suffocating and paralyzing. 

The sound grew louder, and his breath caught in his throat. He stepped forward cautiously, his sword trembling in his grip. The night stretched on endlessly, and every shadow seemed to warp and shift. Just as he convinced himself it might have been a stray animal, the underbrush exploded with movement.

A black, hulking figure surged forward. Amukelo barely had time to react, instinct yanking him into a desperate leap to the side. He hit the ground hard, rolling to his feet as the werewolf landed in the place where he was just a moment ago. 

The creature turned toward him with unnatural speed. Amukelo's heart pounded like a war drum. His sword trembled in his grip, slick with sweat and fear.

But it wasn't over. A second growl sounded from behind him, and his stomach dropped. He turned his head sharply, spotting another werewolf emerging from the dark forest. The second beast joined the first, flanking him, and then—another snarl. A third werewolf.

Amukelo's breath caught in his throat. His eyes darted between the three monsters encircling him. He wanted to flee, but he knew he wouldn't make it far. His legs shook beneath him as the circle tightened.

The first werewolf lunged. Amukelo swung his sword with all his strength, the steel connecting with the beast's shoulder. Sparks flew as the blade sliced fur, but it didn't bite deep. The werewolf howled and swiped back, its claws catching the edge of Amukelo's tunic as he twisted away. 

He staggered backward, just as the second werewolf pounced. Amukelo parried with a desperate swing, the impact jarring his arm to the point of pain. The strength of the beast's attack forced him to his knees, his sword angled awkwardly above him as he fought to keep the weight off.

Before he could recover, the third werewolf closed in. Amukelo barely rolled away in time, the creature's claws raking the ground where his head had been. The movement sent him sprawling. He tried to stand, but his foot slipped on the damp earth, and he fell onto his back. He watched in horror as the third beast loomed over him, saliva dripping from its gaping maw.

"No!" Amukelo gasped, throwing his hands up in a vain attempt to shield himself. But the werewolf hesitated. The other two beasts snarled and advanced. The three of them moved as one, their glowing eyes filled with murderous intent.

"I can't win this," he whispered hoarsely to himself, his voice trembling. 

Amukelo barely had time to react as the first werewolf lunged again. Rolling to the side, he narrowly avoided the swipe, the claws missed him by mere inches. Springing to his feet, he swung his sword in a desperate counterattack. The blade grazed the beast's leg, eliciting a pained roar, but the creature barely flinched.

Before he could capitalize on the small opening, the second werewolf darted in. Amukelo raised his blade to parry. He managed to deflect the attack, but not entirely. The werewolf's claws raked across his left side. A searing pain erupted as blood began to soak his tunic, spreading warm and fast.

Staggering back, Amukelo clenched his teeth and pressed his free hand to the wound. His vision blurred for a moment, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The third beast leaped at him, its jaws snapping inches from his face. Amukelo fell backward. He kicked upward with all his strength, driving his boot into the creature's stomach and sending it sprawling back.

Scrambling to his feet, he adjusted his grip on his sword and turned just as the first werewolf charged again. Amukelo swung his blade wildly, the tip cutting a shallow gash across the creature's muzzle. It roared in fury but didn't falter. Before Amukelo could reposition, it lunged, its claws arcing in a brutal downward slash. 

This time, he wasn't fast enough. The claws tore across his back, ripping through his flesh. He screamed from pain as he stumbled forward, dropping to his knees. 

The second werewolf moved in for the kill, sensing his weakness. It leaped toward him, but Amukelo twisted at the last second, his sword catching its side. The blade sank deep, cutting through fur and flesh. The beast yelped and staggered, but its momentum carried it forward, slamming into Amukelo and knocking him to the ground.

His sword fell from his grasp, and the impact sent another wave of pain through his body. Amukelo rolled to the side, reaching for his sword. He grabbed it just as the third werewolf loomed over him. With a desperate cry, Amukelo thrust the sword upward. The blade sank into the werewolf's chest, puncturing deep. The creature howled, its claws slicing into his shoulder as it collapsed on top of him.

Amukelo shoved the heavy body off. Blood poured from his wounds, and his vision swam. The remaining two werewolves circled him now. Amukelo's legs trembled as he forced himself to his feet.

The first werewolf lunged again, its claws aimed at his throat. Amukelo dodged to the side. He stumbled, barely managing to keep his balance. The second werewolf saw its chance and charged, its jaws snapping at his arm. Amukelo swung the sword wildly, slashing its snout and driving it back. 

But his movements were slowing from the fatigue. The blood loss and pain were taking their toll. His breathing grew labored, and his vision narrowed. He knew he couldn't keep this up much longer.

Then, the first rays of sunlight broke through the forest. The golden light bathed the clearing, and the werewolves froze mid-step. Their snarls turned to whimpers as dark smoke began to rise from their bodies. Amukelo watched in stunned disbelief as the monstrous forms began to shrink, their fur receding and their claws dulling.

The transformation was grotesque and mesmerizing. In moments, the towering beasts were gone, replaced by ordinary wolves. The animals collapsed to the ground, their bodies heaving as if they had just run for miles.

Amukelo stood there, his sword still raised, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The adrenaline began to fade, replaced by the full weight of his injuries. He dropped the sword and fell to his knees, his hand instinctively pressing against his back. The gashes burned fiercely, each movement sending fresh waves of agony through his body.

Amukelo's vision blurred as exhaustion overwhelmed him. He collapsed onto his side, the dirt cool against his cheek.