Zachary could barely recall the chaos that led them to this moment. One minute, they were enjoying a peaceful night around a campfire with friends, and the next, a stranger attacked, sinking their teeth into one of Zachary's friends. Chaos erupted. Amidst the panic, a towering, white-furred werewolf with a neon mohawk and glowing red eyes lunged at Zachary.

Now, Zachary lay near a crackling fire, the warmth slowly waking them. As their eyes fluttered open, they saw the same massive werewolf—Raff—carefully bandaging their arm. Despite his hulking figure, scars, and wild appearance, he handled Zachary with surprising gentleness.

Rafeal: —"Don’t move,"

Raff growled in a deep, rough voice.

Across the room, another werewolf, Boris, sighed as he tossed a log onto the fire.

Boris: —"Well, it didn’t work this time,"

he muttered, clearly frustrated. Boris, leaner and more composed, carried himself with intelligence and control, contrasting Raff’s brute force.

Suddenly, Arnou, the pack leader, emerged. His shaggy black fur and glowing golden eyes commanded respect as he sniffed at Zachary.

Arnou: —"No bite. This one’s still alive,"

he declared, his deep voice final.

The room fell silent as the three werewolves studied Zachary, unsure of what would come next.