His silver eyes seemed exceptionally bright in the silent night.
More bizarrely, strange green flames danced within them,
like two inextinguishable spectral fires, flickering with the light of wisdom and savagery.
These green flames, leaping within his silver pupils, added an air of majesty and terror to his presence.
When this largest, most formidable Werewolf finally spoke,
his voice was deep and magnetic, like an ancient call that crossed the barriers of time and space,
striking deep into the heart of every Werewolf.
All the Werewolves, regardless of their size or ferocity, lowered their heads.
In an almost pious posture, they listened intently to their Clan Leader's every word.
Their eyes were filled with awe and obedience.
At this moment, all their wildness and untamed spirit were subdued by this power that came from deep within their bloodline.
This Clan Leader's name was Florian.
Florian glanced up at the cold moonlight that was gradually appearing in the sky.
