Greykin Valley

| 77 | Antlers

⥐ ⋞ ☽ ⋟ ⥐

| Jackson |

They just kept coming, almost as if they were spectres clawing their way out of long-forgotten graves. The eerie symphony of snarls and screeches echoed through the desolation, leaving a sinister undertone that mingled with the stench of decaying blood.

As the cadejo horde advanced, it seemed as though the very earth had birthed them, an army of the damned racing towards Jackson and his packmates. Their grotesque forms, animated by a malevolent force, cast elongated shadows on the frozen landscape.

"On your right!" Wesley's voice shattered the frigid air, a desperate warning slicing through the night.

Julian, with a mixture of fear and instinct, swung around, colliding with a cadejo that materialized from the shadows. The creature's visage peeled away, its skin sticking to Julian's paw like a grotesque souvenir.

With a furious snarl, the wounded cadejo lunged at Julian, but Jackson intervened, crashing his body into the beast before it could bite his friend. The creature tumbled across the frozen ground, leaving behind a trail of rotten ooze.

Panting, Julian managed a strained, "Thanks," his eyes reflecting the horror of the unfolding nightmare.

The relentless onslaught continued, a ceaseless tide of undead monstrosities overwhelming them. Cyrus' Beta, Clint, dispatched the fallen cadejo, and Jackson, torn between the urge to unleash the formidable power of the inimă and the fear of losing control, chose to use the brute strength at his disposal. Each blow echoed through the night, a futile attempt to push back the inexorable wave of death.

But he could only do so much, and the cadejo were still coming.

"Where the hell are they coming from?!" Wesley's desperate inquiry lingered in the air, unanswered and unsettling.

More and more cadejo emerged from the forest's dark depths; this part of the woods seemed to harbour an otherworldly secret, releasing its macabre inhabitants with every passing moment. It made Jackson wonder whether Kane had unleashed the horde trapped in the canyon; it was the only explanation that made sense.

And if Kane had freed the pit of rotting creatures, then rotting wolves were the least of their problems. Sirens, brutes, prowlers—and God only knew what else—would be among the swarm, and the very thought of facing variants sent a paralyzing shiver down Jackson's spine.

But he couldn't become distracted. He stuck close to Julian, helping them take down any cadejo that came their way. Wesley and his Epsilons were handling their line well, but panicked cries and pained yelps echoed through the forest, drowning out the savage tournament between Kane and Cyrus. The others were in trouble—Jackson didn't know who, but every wolf was his ally, and if he could help, he would.

A flurry of blue and white light suddenly lit up the dark, and distorted wails and roars cut through the sound of the horde. Jackson watched as Sebastien swooped down and took out an entire group of cadejo with several balls of sizzling blue flames, and on the other side of the forest, Maleki's white fire obliterated the cadejo like water flooding an ant nest.

A sudden spectral burst of blue and white erupted, violently piercing the suffocating darkness. The twisted cries and distorted roars of cadejo echoed loudly, intertwining with the malevolent noise of the undead horde.

Jackson's eyes widened as Sebastien descended from the shadowy heights. The winged hound conjured balls of sizzling blue flames from his jaws, each flicker a macabre dance of incandescent death. The azure inferno consumed an entire group of cadejo, casting grotesque shadows that writhed and contorted in the unholy radiance.