The Vampire King's Feeder
I scrape, bite, and claw my way out of the scuffle, snarling and barking, but in a defensive manner, trying to convey that I mean them no harm.
These wolves are warriors, however. Trained to fight to kill.
But a third wolf approaches, and my assailants immediately back off. The wolf’s fur is totally silver. His snout is a soft white in the moonlight, giving away his age. He’s an elder, and the way his warriors back away and bow their heads means he’s their Alpha.