First Wolf demise
In the morning, Wallace stood on the edge of his camp, his eyes scanning the horizon where the ominous red forest loomed. The memory of the previous night still haunted him, the loss of his corrupted Shadow Wolf gnawing at his mind. He had known the red trees were dangerous, but he hadn't anticipated just how insidious their influence could be. Now, he had to make sure that no more of his loyal companions fell to the forest's dark magic.
He took a deep breath, the cool morning air filling his lungs, and focused his thoughts. The remaining three Shadow Wolves stood by his side, their dark fur glistening in the early light. They were ready to follow his command, but he hesitated. The red forest had taken one of them, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing another.
But he needed them. The Shadow Wolves were his best chance at understanding what was happening within the forest, at finding a way to stop the horned tribe's dark magic before it consumed everything.