The halo of the horizon appears with golden grace as the moon left. The early orange sunrise breathed with the golden morning lights even with the little raindrops it was still as clear as the battle to come. And birds flew away as if fearing for the invasion to arrive. Knowing what lies ahead they all flew, fearing for their lives.
On the crest of the small hill were several silhouettes, Woodland wolves stood ready for the war and bloodbath. The first raw stance almost statue-like while the others behind tumble about, pulling one another over. Some with their human form and the rest on half mid-shift. When Alpha Walter howls they all stop, drawn to join in like they have been invited to a feast. Together they fill the still air with their howling. Their hymns, one howl, no words, just pu
