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This is my first, and I do need to revise the Prologue, but here it is.

Prologue
“That’s the last of them.” A lithe patchy brown wolf growled to a silver gray alpha male.

He nodded, and flicked his tail, “prepare to leave. This’ll be the last we see of this country.”

The patchy wolf nodded, and trotted into a overly large pack of different colored wolves. The silvery alpha watched him go, his ears pricked. A twig snapped, and he whipped his head around, and stood, flashing his pearly white fangs in that direction. The foul scent of man wafted into the small clearing, surrounded by a towering cliff, with the only escape being a thickly growing forest.

The men surrounded the wolves, cornering them against the rocky cliff. The guards and warriors placed themselves in front of the mothering wolves, pups, and the elder wolves. The leaders of the packs took their respected positions in from of the entire packs, ready for revenge for the dead wolves, killed by the humans.

“Why must you fight us, humans?” Demanded the handsome silver gray alpha male, his snarl in pure human. “Let us leave in peace, we don’t want to fight.” He was desperate to leave with as many of his pack as he could, unharmed.

“Quite, Silvermoon, they are monsters, all humans are monsters. They will never let us leave alive.” Growled a black, burly, battle scarred male wolf.

“Tee He he, you think we will leave you! Not even harm you?” Laughed one of the humans. This human wore a golden circlet on his chubby blonde head. He was the proud king of the human race. “You shall die under my sweet blade, demon.”

An enthusiastic cheer of agreement ripped the stressed silence, coming from the humans. On the other hand, or paw, the wolves snarled in heated protest, an angry tidal wave of emotions cascading from their ranks.
“Demons? DEMONS!” Snarled the big wolf, “How dare you! You are the only demons I can see!”

The king scoffed, “Well than your blind, fool.” The man laughed crazily, “Demons are all around you! You and your other wolves are demons. All beasts are demons from the hells.”

Once the crazed king said his piece, he pointed his gleaming blade of murderous death, leveling it to he wolves’ heads, then bellowed one word his followers were waiting for, “Charge!”

At this, Waves of men charged on horses or ran on foot towards the pack of glowing eyes and flashing fangs. Above the beasts, large, whistling clouds descended from the heavens above.

“Protect the mothers, pups, elders, and healers!” Howled Silvermoon. “Watch out for the arrows from above, protect them!”
He dashed forward; ready to meet the men head long. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the large battle scarred wolf head straight for the king. Both knew that if the king were to be killed, the flock of men would scatter like a headless chicken. Their king was their brain, and their source of courage.

“Death to you, humans,” snarled the scarred wolf, “you shall die by my fangs tonight!”

Suddenly, Silvermoon saw a man in a robe wave his hands in the large wolf’s direction. Desperately, he yowled, “No! Blacknight, watch out!”

Blacknight’s ears twitched in recognition, and began to zigzag back and forth, dodging the rainbow colored balls of magical fire, skipping around the flying dirt as nimbly as a rabbit. The magical attacks stopped as another wolf leapt upon the mage, killing him quickly.

The ebony black wolf lunged, his jaws opened, his white fangs glittering dangerously, descending upon the king. “Die, human!”

Luckily for the human king, his blade was in hand, and he raised it in the last moment, piercing the attacking wolf through his thick chest.

“Blacknight! No!” Came the shocked, and pained, howl of Silvermoon.

Blacknight stared painfully into the crazy blue eyes of the king. Gasping for breath with his tortured lungs. He knew that this was going to be his finale battle, but he refused to die in vain.

“Die already, demon!” Shouted the king.

“Oh, I’ll die… And you are coming with me!” The black wolf made a finale lung, his fangs ripping into the man’s throat, crushing his windpipe.

One of the king’s soldiers saw the wolf rip into his throat, and yelled out “Get that beast of f of the King!”

In his finale moments in the realm of the living, Blacknight felt the freezing death creep over the king, and than he too submitted to Wolfstar’s calming call. Silvermoon watched helplessly as his fellow leader—and brother—died.

“King Luke has fallen!” Screamed a man, “hide him from the others, we must kill these wolves before they wreck havoc upon us!”

Suddenly, Silvermoon received a spurt of energy, he knew now that he must get the packs out of here, as safe as possible. He began to chant, his chant was more of a prayer to the wolven goddess, Wolfstar. “Please, Wolfstar, Goddess of the Heaven, help me protect the packs. Goddess Bless!”

In front of hundreds of men, he changed, become closer to their demons. Since he was a loyal wolven leader, loyal to his pack and to the divine wolves, he was granted glorious powers. Now, he was calling forth one of them. A gust of wind wrapped around his silver body, carrying; feathers, leaves, and dust around him. Slowly the blinding twister died down, all the humans present gasped. The silvery alpha wolf spread out his large, powerful, white-feathered wings.

He flapped his enormous wings and took off into the star lit sky. Everyone, man and beast, watched in silent awe as the moonlight glittered on his pelt.

“Humans! This is your last warning, leave us in peace, or suffer the consequences!” The mighty alpha howled into the wind, his voice weaving through the wind.

All wolves stared at the humans expectantly, some lowering threateningly into hunting stances. The men looked once at the winged wolf, and than once at the snarling fangs of wolves on the hunt. Fear griped them, and they turned and run, some dragging the fallen fighters, and others bearing their king, disappearing into the forest, and to their beautiful castle beyond.

Silvermoon landed onto the bloodstained ground gently, folding his wings gently onto his sides. He padded over to his fallen kin, burring his muzzle into the cooling pelt of Blacknight.

Silence stretched on until a young, creamy brown she-wolf growled, “Silvermoon., we need to leave. Now.”

“What about the injured?” Yelped a young warrior.

“And the dead!” Snarled an aged, red wolf.

“We shall pay our respect to the dead, and then help the wounded move.” Declared Silvermoon, his head raised dominantly.

“We must leave soon, or the humans might come back and attack us.” The creamy she-wolf called, standing beside the silver alpha, declaring her rank with her tail and head, raised as high as the alpha beside her.


“They can try,” the red wolf snarled, “but they won’t win.”

Howls of agreement rippled through the crowd of wolves.

“If you want to stay, than stay!” Snarled the Silvermoon along with his creamy brown mate. “But we are taking Nightpack away from here.”

A group of distinctively darker colored wolves padded forward to their leaders, and stood gallantly behind them. Silvermoon’s lighter pelt stood out in his pack. It was odd to have a silver white wolf in such a dark pelted pack.

Then, a smaller white male wolf padded forward, and raised his handsome head, announcing, “Snowpack will join you.” Behind the new alpha, came other wolves of lighter color.

Silvermoon nodded towards him, “Any others?”

A burly rusty colored wolf shook his head, “We shall go our own way.”

“Fine. Nightpack, We leave now.” Silvermoon announced to his pack. He noticed that his once large pack had shrunk from a week ago, making his heart fall slightly.

“Snowpack.” The white wolf called, gently, flagging his white tail, signaling his pack to follow him.

Together, Nightpack and Snowpack turned their backs on the other packs and left the clearing of their last fight against the humans.

Um, return the critique?