Three wolves made their way through the frozen forest of Yoitz.
Well, if you could call them wolves.
The backs of these "wolves" reached to about the height of a human male, giants compared to their smaller K9 cousins. The humans resorted to calling them Direwolves, which was far from what they really were.
Werewolves described them better.
This hunting trip had proved to be a bust, with little to no prey to be found, bad news for a pack of hungry Dires. With the better part of their day wasted, home seemed like their best option. But, before the Hunt Leader could call a end to their trip, his Second spoke up.
"Heads up, boys, we got something."
Half buried in the snow, a girl of what could be no older than fifteen lay. After a glance between the third member of the hunting party and his Second, the Hunt Leader made his way to the body, the rest of the party in tow.
The girl wore nothing but cloak of brown buttoned at the neck, her body laid bare.
Her skin dangerously pale.
She had a gruesome cut about midway down her left leg, the blood near frozen.
Claw marks.
"Well... what should we do with her?"
The hunt leader glanced to his Second.
"We'll, the poor scrap's half dead... maybe it's best if we gave her a quick death-"
And that's when he noticed red ears flapping in the icy wind, a red tail half hidden in the snow.
This girl was not only Dire... she was a Direfox.
One of the last of her kind.
The soft voice of his Second, his Beta, spoke aloud.
"What should we do with her, Ren?"
The Silvermoon Alpha shook his mighty head.
"Maybe it's time us wolves got along with our red sisters."
YOU ARE READING
Lamb
FantasyLike a lamb among wolves, Holly is the only Werefox among... more wolves? Okay forget it. The year is 476 AD, and Holly is among the newly discovered (or, at least, newly discovered by humans) species of "mythical creatures" to be found. What this s...
