𝑾𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒓 𝑫𝒊𝒆 #1

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 2

Sarah stood at the entrance of the old, rusted machinery, her eyes scanning the area. The sound of leaves crunching underfoot echoed in the silence of the woods. She could make out figures in the distance, each one representing a rival pack.

The time for observation had begun.

Loosening her posture, she shifted her gaze from one werewolf to another, sizing up the competition.

To her left, she saw the seventeen-year-old participant from the Cragfang pack. He was probably the youngest one among all the participants. The Cragfang pack was well known for their endurance and stealth. Maybe he was young, but he had a lot of confidence that made him look stronger than some of the older werewolves standing nearby.

As if he felt her lingering eyes, his dark piercing gaze bore into her, silently challenging her to underestimate him. That was something she wasn't planning to do.

On her right stood the Goldclaw pack contestant, her yellowed-white fur glistening in the sunlight. She didn't know her, but she remembered that this pack had territories to the south, near her family's borders. They were known for their agility and speed, qualities that most of the others couldn't keep up within a fair race.

In the span of a single heartbeat, Sarah's attention swiftly diverted to the pack member she abhorred with every fiber of her being. Casting aside her initial analysis, she fixated her gaze upon the quest for Jason, delving deeper into her purpose. His very essence simmered within her, a blazing inferno of determination engulfing her every thought.

Their encounters had been far from pleasant, a string of horrific memories etched into her mind. The most recent clash transpired when his pack encroached upon her family sacred territory. He arrived with his allies, seeking to salvage the remnants of those who had fallen victim to their harrowing "uninvited guest fun tea party."

And yet, they too were soon left with a bitter taste of defeat, as their own subordinate returned in an eerily similar condition. It seemed the game of superiority had no end in sight. But that would soon change...

As her keen eyes surveyed the bustling crowd, they swiftly locked onto a pair of piercing emerald orbs, peering directly into her soul.

There he stood, Jason, the epitome of conceit, towering above with resolute pride. His lustrous shoulder-length hair, reminiscent of fiery ginger and rich chestnut, billowed gallantly in the whimsical breeze. Sarah's disdain for him intensified with every defined contour of his chiseled jawline and every ripple of his robust physique. Alas, his regal lineage was boastfully displayed, much to her chagrin.

Never one to shy away from a formidable challenge, Sarah embarked on a deliberate path towards Jason, the palpable tension weaving a taut web between them. The very air crackled with animosity as they stood eye to eye, their mutual contempt radiating like an ethereal aura.

"Jason," Sarah said arrogantly, intentionally using his name to taunt him, nothing was more disrespectful than speaking to him as if he were her colleague. Her voice dripped with sweetly covered venom. "How could I resist the opportunity to witness firsthand your remarkable display of self-importance?"

Jason's eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared, a sign that her words had struck a nerve. He clenched his fists at his sides, his jaw tightening.

"Ah, Sarah," he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Ever the harbinger of wit and charm. I must say, your presence is like a breath of stale air in a room full of fragrant roses."

Sarah raised an eyebrow, her gaze fixed on him like a predator assessing its prey. "How poetic, Jason. I never knew you had such a way with words. It almost matches your prowess in battle, almost."