Third Person's POV
On the sidelines, Alrin's sultry female companion and the brutish man who followed him watched with naked admiration due to the fact that these two had finally shown that boy the phrase of not knowing what was good for himself.
Their faces softened with reverence as though already bowing to the inevitable victors.
It was clear in their eyes that they had already convinced themselves the fruits were as good as harvested.
Yet two figures did not move, did not smile, and did not share in the arrogance of the moment.
The petite werewolf girl stood utterly still, with her small frame rooted like iron to the earth, and her gray tail swishing faintly in the air behind her.
Her expression remained unchanged like a calm, porcelain doll in an unreadable manner, but her sharp eyes reflected the storm above with a clarity that none of the others possessed.
And beside her, Alrin lingered with his skeletal figure and long arms hanging loosely at his sides.
