The dark clouds hung over the war-torn field of Parnu. Mangled corpses of human and wolf were scattered all over in muddy puddles. A division of human soldiers stood in position in the trenches as they awaited orders from their commanding officers. General Molan stood at the top of the trench, scanning the distant forest through his binoculars. Thunder rumbled gently as the first drops of rain began to fall. Faint pinging sounds emitted from the soldiers helmets echoed faintly into a chorus as rain poured. 

Just then, Molan spotted movement in the trees; silhouettes with familiar snouts and ears. Lowering his binoculars, he grimaced. He grabbed his whistle and blew. Soldiers climbed up to the top of the trench as they fixed bayonets before aiming their rifles at the forest. Molan rose his binoculars to his eyes and stared at the forest once more. A lone werewolf walked out, wearing torn pants and clutching a sword, and snarled. It pointed its sword to the trench and howled. Within seconds of its howling, an army of werewolves shot forth from the forest and charged furiously across the field, barking and howling. 

Molan stood watch as the commanding officers gave orders to the men. As the lycans drew closer, shouts of "FIRE!" yelled and shots rang out. Bullets flew across the field, some zipping past the charging wolves, others hitting their marks. Several lycans fell as others pushed forward. Suddenly, a gush of wind blew from behind Molan as artillery fired into the battlefield. Wolves flew into the air as the ground beneath them erupted in fiery explosions as others pressed forward still. Molan dropped his binoculars and unsheathed his sword. He raised his arm into the air then lowered it towards the approaching lycans. 

A chorus of yells and shouts rang out as the soldiers climbed out of the trench and charged down the hill towards the lycans. Scattered shots rang out as the two armies drew closer and closer. Upon collision, screams and yelps rang out as bayonets plunged, claws scratched, jaws snapping onto necks of soldiers, and close range shots rang out. Amidst the chaotic battle, several soldiers threw down their rifles and drew out their sharp claws and canine fangs before diving onto lycans. 

One of the hybrids, Eris Laborn, bit and slashed her way through several of the lycans as human soldiers around her fell. She was tackled to the ground by one lycan and in a brief struggle, she grabbed a nearby shovel and struck the lycan by the head, knocking it off of her briefly. In fury, she rose to her knees and struck the wolf several times before it clamped its jaws onto the shovel and jerked it out of her hands. She bared her canine fangs as she growled and leapt onto the wolf. She bit onto the neck of the wolf, wounding it. When she let go, the lycan whimpered as it fell. 

Eris went for the final kill but she stopped as she looked into the lycan's eyes. There was no fear in the beast's eyes, but instead there was nothing but sadness. She began to feel pity for the lycan. She looked about her, watching as opposing sides clashed, killing one another. Too much blood was being shed. A gunshot rang out and she looked down to see that the lycan she wounded close its eyes permanently for it was fatally shot. She looked to see Molan stand nearby with a gun in one hand, his bloodied sword in the other. "Focus on the battle, young pup!" he snapped.  She hated being referred to as a "young pup". There were humans who despised lycan hybrids such as herself, humans like Molan. She shook her head, getting back to the fighting, and she charged at another lycan, roaring furiously.


That night, campfires lit the darkness as soldiers gathered about. The sky was clear, with no moon to be shown. One of the human soldiers, Alan Bret, walked over to Eris, who was staring into the fire, with a metal bowl with half cooked meat and soup in hand and he offered it to her. She took the bowl graciously and Alan sat next to her. Eris couldn't help but think about that one lycan, the sadness within its eyes. She then spoke. "I think this war has gone on far enough, Alan." 

Alan set his spoon down as he finished his meal. "I know. I'm sick of being here too. I'd rather be home to my wife and daughter and working in the factory with my dad." Eris gave a small smile, for she too longed to be home. She had no husband nor child, but she missed the simple life she wished she had. "What about you, Eris?" Alan spoke, "Have you got anyone at home." 

She shook her head. "I've never had the time. I just came out of the university when I was drafted." Alan scoffed. "That's right. They put out that ridiculous policy set strictly for the hybrids. What were you majoring?" "Medicinal." Alan's jaw dropped. "Then why are you out here as a soldier? You should be at the hospitals, treating the wounded and such." Eris gave a small shrug. "Who even knows? I guess they don't trust me." Alan closed his bowl before grabbing his rifle. "Well, if you ask me, they're fools not to. You'd make a great doctor." Eris smiled. "Thanks, Alan." she said. She began to eat as Alan walked away to begin his watch.


At headquarters, Molan stood at the map table with several other officers, going over the layouts of the land. "What's the status on the silver ammunition run?" he asked Lieutenant Sky. "The depot was hit last night and the ammunition was all destroyed. We only have about a week's worth of ammunition left. Maybe less." Upon hearing this, Molan slammed his fist on the table in frustration. "We're not going to be able to hold the line for much longer. They have been attacking us full on repeatedly for the last four days and not once have they given us much rest." He lowered his head. "Damn that Talborth and his kind." 

Silence fell in the room for a few moments before Captain Jeryl spoke up. "So what do we do now?" Molan raised his head slightly and looked upon the map, studying it for a few moments. "This stand-off has gone on long enough. Those wolves must have a hideout in the forest. We need to dispatch a scouting party to find where they're staying before we can push forward."

"But sir," Sky protested, "We've assembled and dispatched every scouting party we could into the forest but none came back. We've already lost about 65% of our men as is and reinforcements won't be here for another month. Sending another scouting party will--" "Enough!" Molan interrupted, "You don't think I'm aware of this? We barely got past this last wave and I doubt we'll be able to survive the next one. If we can send in another scouting party, locate the Lycan hideout, we can push forth and clear them out."

"With all due respect, general," Jeryl spoke, "if we were to advance into the forest after discovering their hideout, we will be walking into our death." "Then let it be sooner than later." Molan turned away. "Pick a set of six troops and send them into the forest. Dismissed."