Werewolf Mask And Gloves Mga Nobela at Kwento

His name was Theo, he was a mated werewolf in his early forties and his mate was one of the nurses in the Pack's General Hospital. "We will be needing more armors and spears. Some of our sword could not be used again, so we would need more too. Then, try to see if you can make armors that are resistant to poisons and claw marks, make it hard enough to withstand a Bear's claw mark." I told him. With how sharp and tough the calws of those werewolves from the Redmoon pack are, we needed to make stronger armors and shield too, it woult at least decrease the impact and the damages those claw marks could cause.

“How did— I brought my elbow to check how far the damage had gone when my eyes caught movement behind me. One, two, three, and another man walked in. They each held a gun. There was no escaping this. “Who are you?”, I growled and shifted to my werewolf, “Tell me who sent you and I promise, I will spare your life”. They wore masks on their faces so it was hard to see. I could see no visible markings to differentiate them or tell me which pack they belonged to. I stood there, confident but clueless.

The presence of silver in a werewolf’s body will prevent their wolves from healing any cut, therefore forcing them to bleed out. The second masked man, however, is wielding a wooden bat. So, the real terror is with just one of them. My wolf and I inhale as we begin the count. One. Two. Three… The men circle my car from both sides as if they know exactly what they're looking for. Then the one with the wooden bat begins hitting it on the car windscreen, repeatedly. Next, there is a scream that I instantly know belongs to Ursula. I begin to move.

I blush so brightly I’m sure my cheeks can be seen from the heavens as I turn to look at the shed while he takes his pants off. “What are the gloves for?” “Armor, if I need it while in wolf form,” he says behind me. “Do you need it right now?” I’m met with silence, and when I glance over my shoulder, Evander is replaced by a huge golden wolf with piercing green eyes. He’s not wearing armor. I look down at his paws, which are as big as my face, for sure, and wonder where those gloves have gone. His pants and shirt are neatly folded beside him.

There was no way that these gauntlets would give us any advantage over a vamp with a rifle and good aim. I nearly despaired. “This won’t do at all. Werewolves are fast, but the gauntlets need to have enormous claws so that we don’t have to get too close to a vamp. They’re cowards, and they fight from a distance.” “It’s the only thing we have, unless you fancy waiting around and asking the Emperor if he’ll lend us some claws for our little trip.” Felix took the biggest gauntlet on display and handed it to me. “Ladies first.”

Their utility belts, laden with pouches and holsters, hold an array of weapons and tools that make me gulp. The Hunters' hands are encased in sleek, black gloves with reinforced knuckles, as if they're expecting a fistfight with a brick wall. Their faces are partially hidden by dark green domino masks that stretch horizontally across their eyes, leaving their chiseled jaws exposed. It's a look that screams, "I'm a professional badass, and I know it." "Young lady," One of them rumbles, "get away from him. He's a vampire, and a killer at that."

I commanded, standing on my feet. My she-wolves savants stepped outside, and immediately Mogan sprang into action. He rummaged through my wardrobe and retrieved my favorite long black robe with a large wolf head imprint on the right side. He also brought out a new, shiny gold mask and my animal skin-made shoes. Within minutes, I was dressed and looking incredibly handsome. The mask covered the left side of my face, which was burnt, while leaving my flawless right side exposed. The mask had been my confidence; without it, I was vulnerable.

Lycan had a keen sense of smell, and my men followed the scent until I heard the sound of hooves in front of me. The group was on horseback, cloaked in a black hood, their horses galloping, the leader carrying a sack on his back. "Stop!" I shouted, and their running became distinctly frantic. My whip kept making a loud noise. How are these werewolves gonna beat Lycan? My fighters were closing in on them, howling and howling. "You won't get away! Give it up, you trash!" My voice floated in the air, and the leader finally couldn't help but turn around, and I realized that they were wearing an entire white mask with their faces covered, leaving only three small holes in their eyes and nostrils.

She unwrapped it and held it up and the last light of the day caught on it and threw shadows across her face. A mask. Dark wood, carved smooth, with narrow eye slits and no mouth and a surface that had been rubbed with ash until it was the color of charcoal. It covered the face from the forehead to the jaw and left nothing showing except the eyes. "I made this while you were training," she said. "The wood is willow and the ash is mixed with a binding that will hide your scent from any wolf who comes close. They'll smell smoke and old wood and nothing else. No pack, no bloodline, no name."

The air tensed further, this was it. I adjusted my cap, tucking all loose wisps of my hair underneath and tying it securely in place, then I lifted my mask above my nose. The cold bit at my skin through my new pair of gloves as somehow I had lost one of the previous set. These were thinner than the weather demanded, but they would have to do. My quiver was securely in place, filled with more than a hundred arrows that had been soaked in wolfsbane the whole day. Arrows—check, Knives in boots—check, the fear of inadequacy as I stood beside wolves that were more suited to this than I was—just an itty bitty check. I was as ready as I could be.