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"Oi, Erika! What's with the long face? Did you want to do the whole mission with your friend? You know your father wouldn't allow it, right? We all have to work for our own clans."
Erika was quickly reprimanded by a tall werewolf lady in her human form. She looked beautiful, with clear brown skin, long blonde hair, and sharp emerald eyes. Tall and strong-looking, she wore a golden dress and had long, painted nails.
She was Erika's aunt, Beowulf's youngest sister, Thyra. Erika lowered her gaze, lips tightening in defiance, but before she could respond, the sound of heavy boots echoed against the forest floor.
Ulric, the eldest of Beowulf's brothers emerged from the shadows, though still younger than him. His human form was weathered and scarred from countless battles, his hair silver as moonlight, his eyes a piercing dark gray. He wore a mantle of black fur clasped with iron, and his presence carried the weight of centuries.
