Chapter 49: Endgame

Tristan

As both of our packs waged battle on ancient and sacred ground, a storm had approached, and the Goddess moon was shrouded in dark clouds. Snow gradually fell but then quickly picked up speed. I heard and felt the din of battle around me; the snarling, biting, gnashing, clawing, and howling. Several wolves already lay upon the ground, their fur bloody. I couldn’t tell from whose pack they were; I had my own battle to fight.

Baltazar was a strong wolf, I had to give him that. But it didn’t stop me or slow me down. I had my wits where he had his rage and at times, he had the upper hand, but my resilience kept me in the fight. Two more wolves went down, and I noticed that one was a younger wolf from my pack, Laine. One of Baltazar’s more seasoned and older wolves stood over the young one with a bloody maw before another of the young wolves attacked. It was Westley; he blindsided the older wolf and laid into the b*stard, fangs gnashing and claws striking.