The final Howlback — the one that had remained motionless until now — stepped forward.
It didn't howl like the others.
No, this one simply exhaled, its nostrils flaring with thick steam as it tapped its massive, rune-carved knuckles together — and suddenly, the remaining five Howlbacks responded.
They straightened and moved in sync.
Their footfalls, once chaotic, now had rhythm. Purpose.
"...A choreographed pack?" I muttered, my breath heavy from the last round. "They never moved like this before."
The leader raised its hand — a single, thick-fingered gesture — and the others fanned out, three forming a pincer and two taking the flanks. I was being herded.
And fast.
'They've adapted beyond basic aggression. This isn't random. This is military behavior. Coordinated strikes. Pack sequencing. Real-time response.'
The lead Howlback opened its jaw and let out a short, guttural bellow — a low-frequency sound that rattled my ribs. Not an attack.
