Deep in the forest, in the realm of Tin Wood.
Richard stepped out of the cave and walked towards Tin Wood, catching a strong scent of blood from dozens of meters away, which made him frown involuntarily.
Quickening his pace, he approached Tin Wood and spotted a wolf with silver-white fur lying at its feet. The white wolf bore tens of piercing wounds all over its body, as if it had been attacked by a volley of arrows, yet there were no arrowheads or shafts. Moreover, the edges of the wounds were serrated, which was very peculiar.
A few meters away, the tall gray wolf he had seen before was now looking at the white wolf with worry, occasionally glancing at Tin Wood.
Tin Wood remained silent, lowering branches from its canopy to form arms, which it placed on the white wolf's wounds.
