The cold wind of the late Pleistocene carries the scent of prey across the open plains. From the edge of the shadowy woodland, a chorus of deep, resonant howls rises—lower, heavier, and more chilling than any modern wolf’s. Soon, shapes emerge from the darkness: broad-shouldered, thick-furred canines with amber eyes glowing in the dusk. The leader, larger than any wolf you’ve seen, steps forward, lips curling to reveal sharp fangs. The ground crunches under its heavy paws as the Dire Wolf greets you—not alone, but as the spearhead of the pack.