Novel & Cerita Paw Patrol Scout

Liam pov I was patrolling the outer boundaries of Fireside and Paw pack territories when I caught the scent - vanilla and wildflowers, mixed with the metallic tang of blood. My wolf surged forward instantly, recognizing something vital even before his human mind understood. I found my mate and she was hurt.

Their paw created thudding sounds as they hit the ground hard. Jake, Eric, and Chad were running right behind the scouts. Melanie as one of the lead warriors, Samuel the one who was left to guard Sandra when she was taken, and Tyson were flagging their sides making sure no harm came to the leaders of the pack. The rest of the warriors were running behind them. They ran quietly that only their paws and feet hitting the ground could be heard. “Up ahead alpha, we are close.” One scout sent a mind link to Jake, they were a few miles out of the pack territory and close to Sky Moon’s border, London’s pack.

"He's the head of the Scouts. He's been helping for several years and none of his predictions have ever failed," Sighing, Leon thought for a while before he nodded. "Alright, then. I understand. Give them a go ahead," Nodding, the scout turned on his feet and ran down the hill with great speed, morphing into a wolf as he went. "You trust him, don't you?" Lucian nodded. He had been in this Pack before Leon's arrival so he did. "He's a good one, trust me." As Leon watched the battle down below, he couldn't ignore the howls and growls that broke through the air. The smell of blood, battle and humus as the battle continued.

Cries of pain and the tangy scent of fresh blood drift to my position, and a sinking feeling enters my gut. [Lease, how many enemies are there?] I link the she-wolf. Lease is the best when it comes to scouting, being able to quickly sum up any number of enemies when it comes to a battle. I listen as she ticks off the numbers in her head, her link open to the pack as I continue to kill Soulless, then help an injured Forest Paw wolf inside to be treated.

Her nose wrinkled at the scent, but it was more of a forest scent than anything else. "A patrol is coming," Wildheart murmured. "Be on your guard." Sprucepaw watched carefully as three cats stepped forward. Sure enough Wildheart was right about the patrol. A ginger-brown tom with tabby markings was the first to glare at Wildheart. Beside him was an older looking apprentice-aged cat. Her tortoiseshell fur was bristling with annoyance when she spotted Sprucepaw. Third to come forward was a dark gray, almost black tom with pale yellow eyes.

The scout who know from Aurelia that the thing in the police hand is a weapon called a gun thought that it was a challenge so he beat up the polices too. The police who got beaten up to a pulp push an emergency signal button and call for reinforcement, then the special police force comes and starts to surround the scout. The fight broke out, the police special force got beaten up and the hunt began as the scout started to feel annoyed and flew up to the sky.

She peeked her head up to look at them through the door window, confirming they were the two from earlier. One was a Scout breed, bred by the Aliane to track anything no mater how old the sent was. Once they picked up on the trail the only ways to get them off it was either to start a fire around the area or to shoot them. The other was a Hunter breed. Hunter breeds are stronger than the Scout breed, so they were often paired up. The Scout would track the target while the Hunter would chase it down. The third breed type is Soldier; a K9 bred to be large and strong, used almost exclusivly during raids and battles.

his tone quivering. “And where do you think you are going to?” I asked, tightening my grip on his arm. “You will be in front till we get there.” When we got to the spot, the scout pointed to the ground. “Here.” I bent down, taking a closer look at the tracks. They were big, almost as thrice as a normal wolf or rogue, with deep, sharp claws that marked raw power. The distance between each step was unusual which made their precision deliberate and primal.

The scout yelped, bones crunching under Thorne's jaws. Jax whirled, claws extended. 'Thorne! You bastard, she's ours!' But Thorne was a storm, tearing through them with savage precision. He grabbed the second scout by the throat, hurling him into a trunk with a sickening crack. The air reeked of blood and fury, the forest alive with snarls and thuds. I pressed myself smaller, heart hammering, torn between fleeing and staring at this scarred giant who moved like vengeance itself.