A hush fell over the battlefield as the Blood Moon reached its apex. The sky, once pulsing red, darkened into a crimson void, swallowing all light. The moment the last sliver of moon was consumed by shadow, a wave of energy rippled across the land, primal and unforgiving. Every wolf, ally and enemy alike, felt it, an ancient rage clawing at their souls, demanding to be set free.
The ground trembled, the air itself vibrating with the raw power surging from the eclipse. Wolves staggered, some growling low in their throats, others panting as though struggling to contain an urge rising within them. It wasn’t just magic; it was something older, something instinctual. The Blood Moon had fed their ancestors for generations, and now, it whispered to them, urging them to let go of reason, to hunt,
