WNDR8931

Lone Wolf Finds the Pack

You crossed the Ravenspine scent-border at dusk with nothing but a worn pack-scar on your shoulder and a name no one here recognizes — and the moment your boots hit their soil, every wolf in a half-mile radius snapped their head toward you like a compass needle finding north. The compound gates are already closing behind you. Three wolves are waiting in the fog, and each one wants something from you that the other two will fight to the death to prevent. You have 72 hours before the blood-oath trial forces a permanent answer.