Stolen by the Alpha
My wolf revels in the simple joy of the run, the temporary freedom from human worries.
The moon hangs high overhead, bathing the forest in light that filters through the canopy. My Beta, Alaric, a massive gray wolf with battle scars crisscrossing his muzzle, flanks me on the right. He's been by my side since I took the mantle of Alpha after Lyla's father died. On my left runs Aria, the pack's head warrior, her russet fur gleaming as she moves with lethal grace.
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