(Author’s POV)
In the thick woods of Xevia, the sound of growling and howling of the Werewolves were heard as they were sending signals of attack to commence a war between Wolf packs.
It was a scene of red coming from the blood spurted from wailing men and women. The once lush green grass was covered in molten red blood mixed with thick snow of winter. The cold weather did not bother them at all.
Under the darkness of the early morning, they could not see but could hear threats coming from all angles as they fought for survival. It was a war that took years of failed negotiations and despair. A war that could be avoided but greed and arrogance had clouded their mind.
A war that they all knew was coming.. for one would sit on the throne as King of all Werewolves.
“Attack!” the leader o
