Loud yelps and howls echo in the deadly forest. As bloodhounds were falling down on their feet. Holding their heads in their hands.
Their bodies enter into terror , only to fall limp. As he ends their existence to go to the next.
He.
The one at the centre of the mayhem. Was standing with head held high and arms extended.
Clenching his fist more, making more screams to echo.
His dark eyes burning red like flames, those dark clouds enveloping him.
While the hunters and werewolves. Just stared at their new saviour.
The man who stood in front of them. Not letting a single bloodhound touch any one of them.
Silas endeavored to get up, finally getting time to recover. To only look back at Thaneos just like others.
Why? Why was he doing this?
The bloodhounds would have won the war by now
