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The Festival

The moon hung low and full in the sky as we approached the pack. The air was thick with the scent of pine needles, and the ground was soft and spongy underfoot. As I pushed my way through the undergrowth, I could hear the distant sounds of laughter and music, and I was curious as to why loud noises were oozing from the direction of the pack. The sound of distant howls also filled the air, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

We were flanked by the Phoenix pack warriors, who almost came to blows with Malik.

Thankfully that warrior saved the day in the nick of time and averted any form of bloodshed. He was also by our side, leading us to his Alpha. The sight of spilled blood, decapitated warriors, and dead bodies always makes me sick in my stomach, and thankfully I didn't have to go through all that again.

As we emerged from the trees, into the pack, my eyes widened in amazement. I saw what could only be described as a werewolf party. Dozens of them were gathered around
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