RYDEN

　　　 

　　　

　　　 

　　　

　　　 “Ryden!” Amelia called my name.

　　　

　　　 I was screaming in pain in my head in my own blood with the blackness almost taking over me while I was buried under dead werewolves, wounded and bleeding. 

　　　

　　　Her voice was shaking as she kept calling my name, trying to pull away charred animals on top of me.

　　　

　　　 I already shifted back and begun to succumb to the wounds I obtained, and I was losing a lot of blood. Though I got used to smelling blood, the smell of burning flesh was repugnant and horrible.

　　　

　　　 “I’m fine, Amelia.” I wasn’t. I knew the cuts were bad. I was more worried about her. We...