Late winter gives way to early spring. Fog clings to the cold, damp air, weaving between the tall pines, spruces, and birches. Moss carpets the forest floor, dotted with juniper and scattered wild berries, while open clearings reveal flattened grass, broken branches, and deep claw marks on weathered trees.

Within this forest, several packs of werewolves converge for the breeding season, thirty to seventy strong. Territorial clashes spark brief, fierce fights, and scent-marked trees map the shifting hierarchy. Prey animals skirt the clearings, while hidden dens remain fiercely guarded by dominant pairs.

The forest hums with instinct and tension. Every rustle, growl, and distant howl signals life driven by survival, dominance, and the relentless cycle of reproduction.