Dominicus
The forest holds its breath, an eerie stillness settling over the ancient trees like a shroud. Even the birds have fallen silent, their usual cheerful chorus replaced by an oppressive quiet. The very air seems thick with tension, as if the woods themselves sense the approaching danger. Through this unnatural calm, three men saunter into my territory, their feigned confidence a thin veneer barely concealing the fear they can't quite suppress.
I watch them from the shadows, my massive form concealed by the dense undergrowth. My fur, midnight black, blends seamlessly with the dappled forest floor. Every muscle in my body is coiled tight, ready to spring at a moment's notice. Their scents assault my nostrils - the musky odor of werewolves mingled with sweat, leather, and the metallic tang of weapons. Intruders. Threats. My lips curl back in a silent snarl, exposing teeth as sharp as daggers, but I hold myself in check. The hunt has begun, and I will savor every exhilarating mom
