Gasping for breath, the grey lobo raced through the trees.
His mate ran alongside him with a tiny pup dangling from her jaws and her yearling son on her heels.
Their pursuiters crashed through the underbrush behind them, gaining ground with each step.
“Keep going!” he barked to his small pack.
Without warning, two lobos stood before them, teeth bared.
As they came to a sudden stop, half a dozen lobos emerged from the forest.
They were quickly surrounded on all sides.
“What do tu want from us?” the grey lobo growled, pelaje, piel rising along his back.
Beside him, his mate laid her ears back in fear.
One wolf, slightly larger then the others, stepped forward.
“I am Armstrong, beta of the Everen Pack.” he snarled.
“Now, come with us,”
As he lowered his head, the other lobos drew closer.
“Or die.”
Not far away, hidden in the shadows of the forest, a black wolf, with blue eyes that resembled chips of ice, silently watched the scene unfold.