With an ear-splitting howl, the White Dire Wolf lunged forward, its fangs elongated and its claws razor-sharp. Its movements were swift and precise, evading the bullets, tearing through the air, and aiming for Isolde.
Isolde met the wolf head-on. The barrels of her gun spun with an ominous whir. The air crackled with tension as the wolf closed in. Isolde aimed her weapon with unwavering focus, her finger tightening around the trigger. In a swift motion, she unleashed a storm of bullets, each shot finding its mark with deadly precision.
The rattling gun erupted in a symphony of thunderous blasts, its rapid-fire nature sending a hailstorm of lead toward the charging wolf. The air was filled with the deafening roar of gunfire as Isolde's bullets tore through the air.
With astonishing agility, Isolde swiftly sidestepped the wolf's lunging attack, narrowly evading its snapping jaws. Her movements were graceful yet calculated, as if she and her gun were extensions of each other.