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Zen, Furo, and Gasher were forced to kneel next to a blazing bonfire, the flames licking the air and the heat causing sweat to bead on their foreheads. Black sacks had been thrown over their heads, muffling their senses and making it difficult to breathe. They had been captured by a pack, and the sense of danger was palpable in the air.

Gasher strained to hear any movements nearby, but the only sound was the crackle of the bonfire. He could feel the heat on his face, the smoke stinging his nostrils. His heart was pounding in his chest as he wondered what was to become of them.

Zen's mind was racing, trying to formulate a plan. He tried to focus on his surroundings, feeling the heat of the fire on his skin and the coarse texture of the ground beneath him. He could hear the muffled sounds of the pack members talking nearby, their voices harsh and guttural.

Furo took deep breaths, trying to remain calm and centered. His senses were heightened, and he could feel the tension in the air. Th