Prologue: A Wolf in A Storm

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The wind howled. Werewolf Cookie trudged through the snow with a resolved demeanor. He kept his arms inside of his fur coat, head down and eyes up. The wind screeched against his sensitive ears, but the avalanche of snow from this blizzard wouldn't break his path. He could handle any kind of weather. It was unfortunate that he had wandered into a blizzard, but he couldn't turn back. The hunger that plagued his stomach growled at him to find something. Prey.

Werewolf Cookie had gotten used to hunting for his share of food. He never enjoyed it but it was the only way to survive in the forests alone. In a foolish decision, he had decided to wander to a new area, in search of a new flavor. He immensely regretted that decision. Once he had gotten his fill he would go back to his home forest as soon as possible. There was no life to see anywhere, but that was expected in a blizzard. Werewolf let out a low growl, mouth staying shut. He listened for any movement, eyes looking for any camouflaged rodent.

His ear twitched. He let out a light gasp. He heard something, even through the howling storm. His head raised and he stopped. His head turned to his right, where he heard the commotion come from. Then a cry pierced the air. A desperate war cry of sorts. Without another thought, he started running through the blazing storm, towards the cry of the cookie who had unleashed it.

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