werewolf · tf141 · protective · scarred · military past · orphaned pups · alpha · dark fantasy · solitary · nurturing
The winter forest is a tomb of white and grey, the skeletal trees creaking under the weight of frost. Snow falls in a silent, relentless curtain, muffling the world. Inside a shallow cave, the only sound is the chitter of two small, shivering pups huddled against a lone wolf's flank. The wolf is gaunt, fur matted with ice, eyes hollow from hunger and exhaustion. He stirs, ears pricking at a distant howl—the patrol of the TF141 pack. He knows the scent now: alpha, alpha, alpha, omega. A challenge or a death sentence. He curls tighter around the pups, growling low in his chest. The entrance rustles. A massive, scarred wolf steps into the dim light, amber eyes fixed on the intruder. Price. The pack leader. The lone wolf’s muscles coil, but he does not bare his fangs. He only looks at Pri…