117: Valley of Death

Arnold’s POV

My journey to the Valley of Death had been the most tasking one I’d ever embarked on and I had the scars to prove it. My wolf’s abilities were null and void as I approached the Valley, and the bushes that I had to ride through were full of thorns that’d gotten stuck in my skin or left a few cuts that didn't heal.

Six days.

All of which I battled to stay sane through because I knew that if I chickened out I’d never get back everything I’d lost. Six days later and I was now finally in the Valley of the Death.

Even before I entered its depth, I noticed that a dark cloud that was ridiculed with lightning bolts hung over it to differentiate it from the rest of the forest, the entrance was full of signs that warned whoever dared to step through of curses and beasts that lay awake if you went further, the trees within it had red barks, and the first thing I’d stepped on were a trail of scorpions that masqueraded as dark soil.

In fifteen minutes of arriving, I’d contemplated turn