Angry Birds Red X Silver Novels & Stories

I would never accept that abomination as my mate! Silver’s wolf glares at me and growls, then looks beyond me as if something more interesting stands behind me. I have to duck so her wings don’t hit me in the head when she passes me and saunters over to Xillon. She whimpers, licks his cheeks and nuzzles his neck with her nose as she inhales deeply. Xillon’s stiff as a board with fear etching his features. He suddenly shifts into his massive grey wolf Xavier and they take off in a flash out of the dungeon’s exit.

The silver represents the rationality and control I have always prided myself on, while the red symbolizes the raw, untamed passion that threatens to consume me. As my emotions reach a boiling point, an untamed instinct begins to consume me, an ancient and raw desire that cannot be ignored. My mind becomes a blank canvas as I automatically lower myself, my muscles tense and prepared for action. The atmosphere becomes charged with anticipation, as a menacing hiss escapes my lips, echoing through the air, serving as a chilling reminder of the imminent threat that lies dormant within me.

that he has feelings for me all this time? I was about to answer when Silver groaned. "fuck, I thought that I would die earlier," Redx and I shout at him, "If you were normal you won't do that stunt yet your stupid so don't expect that you would be alive if you do the next time!" "hahaha, what are we now? joining together to defeat me? hahaha it's unfair"

Apparently, time to checkmate our enemies. Xx___xX

My throat hurts a lot, I feel weak all over…grieving over the loss of our own. Sitting here, with my back to everyone, hallowed and lost in my grief…the tears don’t desist their flow as I shut my eyes. I can feel the anger, the thirst for blood, the crave to rip off flesh…all diabolic levels of hostility, defusing from every single wolf back there. Bringing my shattered state to turn around, I’m stunned to see Silver…what are those sparks around him? They go off like the lightning and I’m further surprised to see the coat of frost creating a flooring beneath his paws.

Blood sprayed in dark arcs that caught the strange, too-bright moonlight and glittered like spilled ink. The Crimson Claw pack was smaller but fiercer, red-brown fur flashing like embers. They fought dirty: going for throats, hamstrings, eyes. One of them, a lean female with white streaks on her flanks, leapt onto the back of a Silverfang warrior and clamped her jaws around his neck. He thrashed, yelped once, went still.