Prince Elvis tore through the wilderness atop the white wolf king, which moved with effortless grace while the rest of the pack strained at their limits.
"Alderic, what's our strategy upon arrival? Surely we can't charge directly into their forces?" Josh shouted, his voice tight with anticipation.
"Are you mad? They number two hundred thousand—we've but eight hundred wolves. What hope would we have against such numbers?" Elvis countered, his grip tightening on the massive bundle.
"Then what shall we do?"
"Slayde! Did you prepare the fire oil as instructed?" Elvis demanded.
"At your command, Your Highness," Thomas replied, slapping the dozen clay pots secured at his waist. The containers swayed with each stride.
"Excellent. Now, Josh—catch!" Elvis hurled the hefty sack toward him.
"B
