Ariel Mountain Range (2)
The two amateurs were panting. Ruford heaved out the sword and slumped to the ground. Sweat drenched his entire body. On the other hand, his comrade took a step back and steadied himself. He nocked another another arrow to his bow and aimed at a wolf trapped by wrinkling roots.
But before he could release, a swift bolt drilled into the poor wolf's skull, rendering it dead. The last of the wolves were killed.
The bearded leader hauled the spear out of the dead alpha's body and whipped it hard, clearing the weapon of any blood. He maximised his senses. Every single one of the wolves were lifeless and there were no more underlying dangers around. He fixed his eyes on the two amateurs who were sitting tired, beside the wolf corpses on the ground before turning to the newest members.
The duo were standing on the same spot, unfazed by the bloodshed or the cold. These two- they were not normal.