In the forest of Arcanum two packs waged war. Both packs had been massive in numbers, destroying each other in the process. Two years later new life has begun to enter the forest. Lone wolves have moved in, lonely, hungry, and itching for a fight.
Rafe limped after the two. He felt silly for not thinking about other preditors attracted to the scent of his blood. I've never been the one to sit around on a hunt. If anything I should hunt for them. But here I am getting upstaged by a sickly male, and a small female. Rafe silently whimpered to himself as he imagined himself laying helpless on the side line. Rafe quickly smiled to himself in reasurance, Well, I suppose it'll be like old times when everyone hunted for me. He followed with lifted spirits as he would observe these two wolves skills.
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