Andrev bared his fangs, snarled, his heat-seeking senses drawn to the most important part, the pulse, fluttering beneath the tender flesh of a throat, of a wolf.
A massive, black, dire wolf.
Dalinor.
He was still alive.
And speaking in Andrev’s mind.
Step down, little one, lest you lose your life.
Andrev shook his head, confused. Why do you fight me? Fight the humans. The ones who mock us and hunt us, call us demons and wish us dead.
You are a demon, Dalinor said. No natural creature should be that strong.
Andrev threw his head back and roared.
No comments:
Post a Comment