ROWAN.
It is a m******e.
Limbs thrown all over the place ,blood soaking the ground, the trees.
There is no sound.
Not even the tweeting of the birds.
“What the hell happened here?” I ask in horror.
“It looks like some demon mauled all these wolves,” George, one of the permanent residents and fighters of our camp says.
“They are not rogues,” Lisa says as she walks through the corpses. “But they are not from the same pack either.”
“My question is how they managed to get this close to us without us knowing or hearing anything?” I growl.
There is no answer to that, and that in itself is worrying.
We know how shaky our peace is.
A bunch of rogues attacked a pack and won, taking over their territory .
We are not friends to anyone.
Still, it gave them pause and as long as we kept to
