"They are losing control, My King."
A deep voice echoed through the grand, dimly lit chamber. The walls of the ancient throne room were lined with towering pillars, each carved with the history of their kind. A fire burned low in the great hearth, casting flickering shadows across the high ceilings.
At the center of it all sat the Wolf King.
His presence was suffocating.
A towering figure draped in furs and dark armor, his golden eyes gleaming beneath the heavy crown that rested upon his head. He was power itself….the force that ruled above all wolves. His aura was suffused with something ancient, something far beyond mortal understanding.
Before him, kneeling with his head bowed, was his second-in-command.
One of the few wolves who could stand in his presence without being crushed beneath his dominance.
"The council has descended into chaos," the warrior continued, his tone sharp. "They quarrel over what must be done about the girl."
