The Young Lycan
Fur the color of moonlight rippled over a form that stood upright, taller, broader, and marked with luminous patterns that seemed to drink the forest shadows.
Her Lycan form settled with a low, resonant growl that vibrated through the ground.
The force of her presence hit the six wolves like a physical weight. Their charge collapsed. Claws dug into soil as they fought to stay upright, then failed.
One by one they dropped to their bellies, forced into submission by pure hierarchical pressure they could not resist.
“L-Lycan…?” one of them stammered, voice breaking mid-word. “A real Lycan?”
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