Rhydor's POV
A white wolf stood in the middle of the smoking field. Or was it a fox?
I genuinely could not tell as I lay propped on my elbows in the bloody dirt. The creature's ears were high, sharp, and pointed, looking exactly like the ears of a mountain fox.
Yet the broad, powerful jawline and the regal structure of its face belonged entirely to an ancient wolf. It was as if two completely different mythical beasts had been fused together by some forgotten, divine magic.
The body was utterly magnificent, covered in long, snow-white fur with bold black stripes running down its sides like a massive winter tiger.
And then there were the tails. Nine massive, thick white tails flared out behind its body, swaying through the air in perfect, hypnotic harmony.
A nine-tailed hybrid of wolf and fox was something beyond rare. It was a legend from ancient folklore, a creature that shouldn't even exist in our world.
