The ground began to tremble slightly, sending ripples slowly across the surface of the huge quenching barrels.
Countless wolf cavalry swept in like the wind, resembling slanted waves as they surged into the valley from the volcano's mouth, their unsheathed blades reflecting the red glow of the subterranean mini-sun, casting a synchronized reflection on the faces of each envoy.
The Dubin delegation looked at each other in confusion, not knowing what to do.
The Medusa emissaries reflexively formed a back-to-back circular formation, their muscles taut as they gripped their weapons.
The riding wolves, with their thick pads, were usually silent when running, but these wolf cavalry rode on uniformly fierce and grotesque beasts, covered in thick salt frost from head to toe, including their hooves, solid and heavy upon landing.
