The fight between the boss and the alpha was on the verge of beginning, and tension quietly spread through the pack.
The first to pick up on the shift were the three white wolves.
They were stretched out across the ground, their postures calm yet calculated.
Even though their bodies were nearly identical in size, there was no mistaking the difference in authority between them.
At the center sat the strongest among them, a white wolf with a deep scar carved across his forehead, the mark giving away both experience and power.
His presence kept the air around him heavy, while the two at his sides, though not weak, clearly stood a tier below.
They carried strength, but it wasn't the same commanding weight that radiated from the scarred one.
Stationed just behind that trio were the rest of the remaining pack, five gray wolves spread, their heads low but their eyes watchful.
They held their ground, waiting to see how things would unfold.
