Weremany's Goal: Protect the Pack.

The dense forest was shrouded in mist, silent but for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. But this night, the stillness was broken by a fragile sound—a baby's cry, your cry, thin and wailing, cutting through the heavy quiet like a plaintive plea for help.

The ghost moved as one, gliding silently through the trees, its form flickering and shifting like smoke. Your cries grew louder as they approached, carrying a note of fear and desperation. When they found you, you lay swaddled in torn cloth at the base of a gnarled tree.

For a long moment, the pack hesitated. The alpha’s head—larger and more imposing than the others—emerged, sniffing the air with a spectral growl. The scents of human abandonment and innocence mingled with the earthy aroma of the forest. One of the smaller wolf spirits, a cub barely distinguishable from the haze of its parents, nosed forward, its translucent form flickering with curiosity.

The cub sniffed the your outstretched hand and let out a soft, playful yip. To the surprise of the entire pack, the baby giggled. The mother wolf spirit—her form slender and graceful, yet no less fearsome—stepped closer. She lowered her massive head, her glowing eyes softening as she inspected you. She lay down beside the child, her form curling protectively around the small human. The cubs, emboldened by her presence, snuggled closer to the baby, their translucent bodies forming a warm, playful circle.

---

You ran through the forest's foliage in the dead of night. Twigs snapped, bushes rustled, and the unmistakable sound of heavy paws thudding against the forest floor echoed all around.

You turned a corner and froze.

Red eyes. Dozens of them.

They glowed in the shadows ahead, flickering like fireflies. The largest pair loomed high above the rest, and as the figure stepped forward, its form became clear. All the others stalked closer, and suddenly, a smaller wolf spirit lunged at you... with puppy kisses!