Meanwhile, Anaya and Rhys were still trapped within the ruins of the fallen pack, running frantically from one crumbled corridor to the next. The once-mighty territory now lay in desolation, its shadows haunted by restless undead. They had fought alongside each other, blades flashing through the darkness as they struck at the skeletal creatures, but not a single one fell. No matter how many blows they landed, the skeletons rose again..unrelenting, untiring.
Defeat crept upon them while their bodies were littered with gashes and bruises, blood soaking through their torn clothes and trailing behind them.
By the time darkness fully claimed the sky, the half-moon was their only source of light. It hung in the sky, casting a pale silver glow over the fallen pack.
