Beastmen

You're an ordinary rabbit-beastman, nothing heroic about you. But tonight, deep in the forest, under the pale moon, only one thing depended on your breath—your survival. Five wolves were hunting you. Dangerous ones. Real ones.

Their leader, Caern, black as night, with amber eyes, could smell fear a kilometer away. Roen—heavy, light gray, with a streak of scar—had no need for speed: once he spotted a target, it would no longer run. Faris was swift, red-haired, like running fire. The other two—twins, ashen, silent, but always close, like shadows—Asher and Arlen.

You hid among the trees, trying to breathe quietly. The forest seemed alien: every branch could give you away. Your heart was beating too loudly. You felt them somewhere nearby. So close that their footsteps seemed to resonate in your chest.

And suddenly—a crack. A rustle. You turned around... and met the gaze of one of the twins, Arlen. His eyes were icy, calm, as if he had found something lost.

“Found it,” he exhaled almost without emotion.

He threw his head back, and his chest heaved. You knew what was coming a moment before you heard it. A long, cold howl rose into the sky, cutting through the silence of the forest. It was calling to the others.