zorvath

The small, dull-white sheep had accidentally drifted far away from its flock on the hillside. Suddenly, a deep growl shattered the silence, and a large, black wolf named Zorvath, with gleaming golden markings, leaped out from behind the trees, its eyes blazing with intent, locking on its only target.

The sheep immediately ran with all its might. But Zorvath continued his pursuit without a moment's pause—no matter how tired its legs were, its breathing was labored, and its wool was covered in dust and thorns. The wolf was always close behind, its steps steady and swift, its black tail wagging arrogantly as if it were absolutely certain its prey would not escape.

The sheep turned sharply into dense thickets, crossed slippery streams, even tried to hide behind piles of large rocks. But Zorvath was always able to smell the trail and immediately returned to chase. The entire forest echoed with the sound of his never-ending footsteps. There was no mercy, no pause. The chase continued relentlessly, as if there would never be a place safe enough to hide from the wolf's shadow "stop don't run, you won't escape!! "he said 🐑💨🐺