Two days later, at nightfall.
By the time the sun dipped below the trees, the howls had begun.
"Awooooo!"
The chilling cry echoed from all directions, rising into a chorus. Hundreds of wolves were closing in.
"It's begun," Skitz muttered, his ears twitching as the vibrations rippled through the trees. He stepped up to the left side of the wooden wall, one claw resting lightly on the hilt of his blade.
Behind him stood Krivex, already notching an arrow, eyes cold and focused. Takkar cracked his knuckles, twin axes glinting under torchlight. Skarn and Vakk stood shoulder to shoulder, flanking Aren, whose spear was angled forward, grounded like a battle flag in stone. All of them stood silent—but the air around them trembled with anticipation.
