"Who's this?" Snarled a black female with white streaks.
"It's okay, Rockquel. She's a..... friend, should I say." Eli replied.
Rockquel sneered and turned away. Meg could hardly believe how big the tunnels were in the middle. She didn't look
at anyone. Meg stayed silent and held her breath. It smelled musky and rotted. Like a bunch of dead, decaying, wolves.
The smell burned her nostrils. Who died and what did they do with the body? Meg wondered. The smell of rotting flesh
drowned out the smell of the hundred-year-old tunnels. They were filled with many battle-scarred wolves. All the wolves
scurried in and out of several tunnels that separated them. Meg was exhausted. All the walking. Her tail was still
bleeding.
Calm down. She told herself. You'll bleed out at this rate. She heard
sniffing at her bleeding tail and whipped around to see a small dark brown wolf. "I'm Hayden. Sorry to be so nosy."
He said and Meg shrugged. "With a wound like that, I'm surprised you're not already dead." He glanced at Eli as if he
knew Eli did that.
Hayden was right. Meg was starting to feel too weak to stand. She collapsed to
her knees. "Meg!" Eli gasped, rushing toward her.
Hayden stepped in front of him. "You've done enough, Eli." He snarled, glancing at Meg, who was on her side trying
to stay alive with the little air she could breathe in with the heat.
Hayden walked over to her and tapped her muzzle with his. Meg's last thoughts were Hayden.
