82. Dry Bones

Athena's POV

The pack's healers fed the witch with herbs she'd requested herself, pointing at trees around, including wolfsbane.

I squatted beside the old witch, watching how she rolled the herbs into several balls, applying the juice into every opening on her face, including her nostrils.

She kept a few of the balls in her clothing,

"We may need some of these. Just in case," she said.

Behind me was a troop. The entire pack, arranged according to their war experiences and agility. The feeble ones amongst us were made to converge at the middle. An order we've maintained since our conception as a pack, forming a defense against the weak.

Everyone prepared their weapons.

Animal horns, drenched with liquid silver and wolf bane, arrows, daggers, and spears.

The only weapon I had with me was the witch who seemed to know alot about our enemy.

"We don't have much time," the witch said in a crooked tone groaning in pain as she got back on her feet.

She held a walking, but what she did with