Mouse Warriors Novels & Stories

A man's scream echoed roughly in a flash. Marcus witnessed two werewolves dragging a male soldier. He appears to be a member of the WW Force based on his clothing. The man struggled, even more, when he was forced to kneel in front of Althaia, who was now staring at him emotionlessly. Althaia grinned horrifyingly. "Any final words?" Marcus overheard Althaia ask the poor man. Instead of pleading for his life, the man insulted Althaia's ferocity. "All right, make the most of your petty lives now, because your race will be extinct in this world soon!"

Anaki said his hand covering his mouth, to avoid laughing at Kai. "Now, now, Kai. Is that any way to welcome Brothers who have come to ask for our assistance?" Moon walked across a dimly light room and over to the only window in the room, throwing back the curtains. “My apologies, this will only hurt for a few seconds, as your Wolf Sight adjusts from dark to light." "Shyfter, opposite me...Anaki, left flank...Kai right flank...Kugri at the Point." Moon ordered. In a blink, the wolves were in the positions Moon ordered them into.

There was a tale passed through generations, reaching the 21st Century, about a group of werewolves’ special mutation that brings out dormant abilities from a family’s genetic line. They were said to be marked and blessed by the moon goddess for they were the first of her followers. They were given the title of Legacy Wolves, keeping up their tradition and passing on their special traits through their children.

Each blade bears a sign of a roaring tiger. “Whoever you are, come out,” Rio said his voice was firm yet still. Even so, a drop of sweat seemed to be dripping down his forehead. The scrub rustled again. There was a sound of broken branches and a few seconds later the bushes opened, revealing a large man in a black robe and a blue mask. Other figures with almost the same appearance began to appear one by one from behind the bush or trees; some jumped down from the tree itself. There were about a dozen of them. Each carried a weapon similar to creese and small blade, kunjang. Rio knows what a weapon is.

She knew what all the man was saying is true, but she also knew it was all done by rogues who have no control over their instincts. They all should not be blamed for the doings of rogues that couldn't keep together their shit. Why the entire race is to suffer for doings of few wolves? "They....they are rogues....pack wolves never hurt -" Ray's grip tightens further on her jaw... making a scream to leave her lips.Drops of blood falling down from the corner of her lips. But he doesn't bother. His eyes burning in hatred. "Did I asked you to open your mouth bitc*? Did I asked for your explanation?"

His chips are super greasy but if you add enough salt and vinegar they're pretty good. Then I think that there's a lot of talking but maybe it's too many at once. So I suggest that everyone introduces themselves. That turns out to be another fantastic idea. It's my night. It's like I can't do anything wrong. There's Graydon Airwolf of course. He's the oldest. There are many others from the Wildlands and a few, like the Aurorawolves, Moonwolves and Starwolves from across the continent. They all seem to have one thing in common though and that's a run-in with the Firewolves. They say Wildlands wolves but when I ask more questions it always comes back to Alpha Ludo or his father.

As if they have a tacit understanding, they morph into their wolf forms and take off towards the east. Leaving us no time to recover, the other warriors follow suit. Amongst these are; Michael, Uncle Luke, Gunther, Alpha Lorenzo, Dr Boyce, Alpha Jackson Darius's mate and their pups, as well as Hermes or rather Teddy the white bear. Before we could react, all we can see is just the dust. "Retaliation huh? It does work at times. At least this time, they will be unexpected guests." "What are you talking about grandpa?"

The warriors followed suit, their teeth bared and their claws unsheathed as they charged towards moonshine pack. The pack was caught off guard, their guards and warriors unprepared for the sudden night attack. They snarled and snapped as they fought against my warriors who I had instructed not to kill unless it was unavoidable. The two sides clashed in a frenzy of fur and teeth, battle cries piercing through the night. The fight become more serious when more moonshine pack’s warriors joined in led by alpha Aragon. He was a massive wolf with pitch black fur. He growled and snarled when he faced me, his teeth bared. I growled as well, and my claws dug into the ground as I prepared for the atta

He was a warrior wolf, and as he strode around the fighting ring, he looked every part his title. He was impressively built, both broad and tall; his arms, chest, and legs were thick with muscle, so much so that it even appeared to stretch up his neck, making it appear weighty and bulky as he swung his arms around. His hair was short, which was unusual in the Lapis Moon pack, and his eyes were deep-set and pale. The Mountain Lion tribe were known for being cunning, feisty, determined, bold, and daring. They were passionate and stubborn, and as I watched Ryker batter the punching bag before him, I steeled my resolve.

“Today, we defend our future! Stand firm, every wolf—our unity is our strength. Remember: we fight not only for our pack, but for every life that calls Blue Moon home!” With a mighty roar, the pack surged into action. Warriors donned their armor and took up their weapons, their movements a blend of practiced precision and raw, unyielding resolve. Donavon led his contingent down from the rampart, his figure a beacon of strength as he charged toward the ridge where enemy forces now loomed like a dark tide.