Marisol leaves the library armed with two maps, and fueled by the day’s success, she decides to try another shot at her exploration of the Redwood Pack, a conscious decision to also steer her focus from thoughts of the haunting place in her dreams.
As she strolls through the pack grounds, a sense of being watched urges her to maintain a façade of calm, at least until she senses the tension has eased. However, a disconcerting scent soon reaches her nostrils, a potent mix of stale blood that no doubt spelled death and suffering. It assaulted her senses, threatening to overwhelm her with every step she took further.
As Marisol walks toward the unpleasant stench, whispers from the pack members reach her ears. Muffled conversations about the escalating situation buzz in the air. Still, in her confusion, the palpable distress in their voices does not go unnoticed.
“It’s getting worse,” she hears one of the voices say, heavy with concern.
“I can’t take it anymore; we should leave,” another one suggests, expressing a desire to escape the tumult within the area, or could it be the pack as a whole?
“Our homes are ruined, and the attacks never stop. What exactly is the Alpha doing about it?” a third voice adds this time.
The last sentiment strikes Marisol deeply, and empathy swells within her. Redwood was suffering, but how? What was going on?
Upon reaching the source of the disturbing scent, Marisol finds herself standing before an infirmary. On further inspection, a more gruesome scene only looks to unfold before her eyes.