So he returned, tools at hand, resolve hardening with each step through the trees. The wolf lifted its head as he approached, amber eyes burning despite the gaunt frame. Adrian’s breath caught. This was no ordinary confrontation—it was a standoff with something ancient, primal, and unforgiving.
The wolf was gaunt to the point of frailty. Its ribs rose and fell in shallow rhythm, eyes dulled but unwavering. Adrian slowed, the spade’s weight pressing against his back. Every instinct warned him this was folly. Still, he edged closer than ever before.