Wolf Realm:
The witches' sanctuary had never felt this heavy. They were all one step away from being hanged and there would be no possibility to use their magic against the wolves.
The silence carried expectation.
Every pair of eyes rested upon the great crystal basin standing at the center of the chamber.
Its waters remained perfectly still.
Around it, thirteen witches stood shoulder to shoulder, with their hands joined together, and silver symbols glowing faintly beneath their feet.
Incense drifted lazily through the circular room.
The scent of crushed sage mixed with moonflowers until even breathing felt sacred.
No one dared interrupt the ritual.
The youngest witches watched nervously from the edge of the sanctuary. This might be their doom.
The High Witch inhaled deeply.
"Again." She commanded. The command barely rose above a whisper, due to uncertainty.
Immediately, the witches began chanting again.
