The Yukon Wolf shuddered the moment its paws hit the ground. Before it could react, an arrow pierced its neck. It stumbled back three or four steps, swayed, and drops of crimson blood trickled from between its sharp canine teeth.
It struggled for a moment before collapsing weakly to the ground, its legs still pawing at the dirt in a final, desperate struggle.
The sudden collapse of their packmate startled the other four Yukon Wolves. They stared instinctively at the struggling form, clearly not understanding when the attack had happened.
"SWOOSH—"
A second piercing whistle sounded.
Another wolf immediately collapsed.
The hunting bow's projectile speed was at least fifty meters per second. With only five or six meters between them and his Bow Mastery, he barely had to worry about accuracy. The moment he released the string, the feathered arrow found its mark, leaving the wolves no time to react.
