54 The Good Die Young, Part 2

Of the hundred or so elvish curses I could have chosen, I had to choose the one that dissed wolves. Because, as soon as these words escaped my lips, a wolf appeared. It stepped away from the shadows it had been hiding in, its form revealed by the light of the burning tent that lay between it and us—and this monster was unlike any wolf I'd ever seen before.

It was nearly the size of a horse with patchwork fur made of different shades of gray. It had a long snout with its lips pulled back in a snarl that reveal teeth as big and sharp as kitchen knives. It was the wolf's eyes that caught my attention though. Twin yellow orbs that seemed filled with awareness, the kind a human might have.

"Baldr's balls… that thing's bigger than a dire wolf," I guessed.

Liara didn't have time to refute my claim, however, as the great beast had just leaped over the burning tent to get to us.