NYRAH
The mist crept low across the forest floor, while silver moonlight poured over the northern ridge of the Southern Territory. The air was thick with the aromas of pine, earth, and a hint of bloodlust. Nyrah stood at the front line, her silver-gray fur streaked with scars of ancient battles. The legendary wolf, eyes glowing amber like dying embers, watched as her warriors emerged from the shadows. Their paws pressed silently against the damp soil, each movement is precise, disciplined, deadly. While outside of the tent, Laurence can sense her presence. "NYRAH.. She's coming..." Laurence's eyes fell on Abby Jezz, who lay unconscious in the tent. His fists clenched tightly, fueled by a deep rage over the enemy's attack. He walked quietly, his face pale beneath the moonlight. Though human in
- Writer
