Eyes closed. Head hung low. The clocked ticked on by. Athena inhaled the air and could smell the faint scent of her rivals a few metres away; hands in her pockets, she gripped the hilt of her blades – fingers itchy to use them. She tried to discern their locations from their scent and felt a surge of electricity course through her veins.
Invisible to the naked eye, there was a war brewing above them; Gerald has made preparations after the truce had been confirmed. But it was hardly a truce. Their rival pack convened at Esterdell and scattered themselves in town – almost surrounding Gerald alone. But they have yet to make their move.
Athena sat patiently as she listened to the clock tick; her patience slowly evaporated with each tick she heard. It echoed against her ears as she negated al
