Hackles raised, Diana’s wolf jumped up to the branch above the clustered hunting team. Ironic, that they were called the hunting team, the best among the best since they were trained by the great Elder Shananel, but they were now the ones being hunted by the white-furred wolf.

            The darkness within the forest and the ensuing storm hovering over the entirety of Crescent Pack’s territories did not help the hunting team at all. The rain washed the scent of the white-furred wolf and the pungent stench of death from the headless wolf of the tracker masked the lingering smell and intent of Diana’s wolf.

            A werewolf was two things, a...