I can’t help but keep my eyes on Nick as he enters the fray. I try to force myself to watch the entire battle, to adopt a general’s gaze, to remember that every member of my pack matters, but I can’t keep my eyes off him.
He runs into the mass of snarling, fighting wolves. He charges one. They see him coming, and brace to meet him. When they meet, they each rear up to knock the other over. Their fight looks almost exactly like our play in the woods.
Of course, that’s why our instincts tell us to play that way. It’s to practice for times like this. Times when we play the same game, only now it’s not a game, because after Nick knocks his opponent onto his back, he slashes open his stomach.
The blood on the ground is so thick you would think it was this area’s natural flooring. The green of grass and the gray of cement have given way to bright, thick red.
CRASH!
Something explodes to my right. I look. From behind one of the nearby buildings, a tank emerges.