Fenra

A cold wind swept through the snowy forest, carrying with it an eerie, mournful howl that echoed like the spirit of a restless wolf. Moments ago, the forest had been alive with the noise of Fenrir’s Fangs hunters setting up camp—boisterous laughter, the clang of weapons, and orders barked through the frosty air. Now, silence reigned, save for the occasional crack of branches under the weight of snow. The hunters lay lifeless, their blood staining the white ground. Their corpses had been left behind, an offering to the beasts of the forest and a grim warning to any others who dared tread the same path.

Fenra Wolfhunt, the huntress who effortlessly slaughtered the hunters, strode away from the ruined camp. Her dark grey wolf ears twitched at the faint crunch of snow beneath her boots, and her crimson eyes gleamed with calculated determination. She knew the reason behind the hunters’ presence—there was a major base ahead. The thought fueled her resolve. Though the base lay far beyond the forest, the distance did not deter her. For now, her only concern was pressing forward.

“Fenra, perhaps you should rest,” Fenrir said with a soothing, motherly voice from within Fenra's mind. “You just finished dealing with those hunters. You’ve earned a moment’s respite.” Fenrir knew that Fenra didn't break a sweat slaughtering the hunters, but that wouldn't stop her from worrying.

A small chuckle escaped Fenra’s lips, a rare display of warmth reserved solely for the ancient wolf spirit that resided within her. “I’ll stop and set up camp soon, but don’t worry about me, Fenrir. I’m fine,” she replied mentally, her inner voice carrying a gentleness that starkly contrasted with the cold edge she showed the rest of the world.

As Fenra continued through the snow-laden forest, her sharp instincts caught a shift in the air. A presence. Someone—or something—was approaching. Her steps remained steady, her demeanor calm, but her senses honed in on the figure stalking her. Fenrir fell silent, giving Fenra the space to focus, her concern evident in the quiet.

Emerging into a wide clearing, Fenra came to a halt. The space was vast, ringed by snow-draped trees, offering no shadows for a pursuer to hide in. The perfect place for a confrontation. Slowly, she turned toward the direction of the unseen presence, her eyes narrowing as her body shifted into a battle-ready stance.

“Show yourself,” Fenra demanded, her voice sharp and devoid of the warmth she reserved for Fenrir. It was cold steel, a voice that cut through the winter air like a blade. Her piercing gaze bore into the trees, daring the intruder to step forward. “If you run, I’ll take it as a sign to rip your throat out.”

Fenra’s Thoughts: If it is a hunter or a Fenrir's Fangs, is gonna pay for entering in my area!