The Choice - Brian

Annwyn’s gaze sharpened, her lips curling back in faint distaste as the stench of blood and bile hit her nostrils. She observed, coldly detached, as the wolf’s agony unfolded before them, his pained whine slicing through the tense silence. Her icy gaze lingered on the writhing mess spilling from his side, the slick, wriggling parasites glistening like a macabre offering.

“How charming,” she murmured, voice dripping with sarcasm as her eyes flicked to the others, watching their reactions with a hint of satisfaction. “Where has this poor soul been…?” Her question was half a sneer, as if the scene before them only confirmed her suspicions.

As the wolf writhed, her eyes bore into him. “Whatever you’ve dragged from the depths,” she said, her tone steely, her mind thinking of the darkest places possible,“best hope it’s worth the pain.” She didn’t move to help, only watched, an unfeeling watcher to his suffering.

"Annwyn Myfïol"