The howl reverberated through the Orc camp like a thunderclap from the underworld. Even Ethan felt chills racing down his spine despite the poison sapping his strength. There was something familiar about the howl.
Garkash's axe missed Ethan's neck because of the disturbance, instead getting lodged in the conjugal mast. The Orc leader's grin faltered as the howl echoed again, closer this time, accompanied by blood-curdling screams from the southern gate.
[HP: 28/100]
Ethan's vision swam as the world tilted in a haze of green-skinned faces and flickering torchlight. What the hell was that? His mind, foggy from blood loss, latched onto the sound like a lifeline. Wolves? Here?
Orcs weren't exactly pet owners and ate anything that moved. Normal wolves would be scared to come near them.
Garkash abandoned his ax, and his beady eyes narrowed toward the chaos erupting at the camp's edge. "What the fuck is that racket?" he bellowed. "Wolves?"
