The moon cast its pale glow onto the blood stained snow. The tundra was fully illuminated by that pale light. Two wolves, one black and one white, circled each other under the light of that move. Not a cloud passed over, as even those in the heavens looked on at the plight of the wolves. The white wolf, massive as he was, was an alpha of the tundra werewolves. With the moon full, he was at his peak. The black wolf, with blood dribbling from his muzzle, was Turpis in his bestial form.
Scattered across the landscape were the bodies of dozens of oversized wolves. These were the remains of the pack that had been the victim of genocide. A single wolf remained, and that was the alpha. His mournful howl could be heard from miles around as he continued to circle parallel to the black wolf. Neither made a move toward the other, but the malice felt by both was apparent.
There was a crunch of snow;then, both wolves were airborne. The black wolf tore into the shoulder of the alpha, while the white wolf snapped at its ribs. Turpis jerked his head, tearing at the alpha's fur and flesh. The massive white wolf shook his whole body, throwing the black wolf off, along with a chunk of his shoulder. He gave a low growl, which was immediately returned by the ebony wolf.
With a snap of his jaws, he swallowed the meat and licked his chops. He began panting with hunger as more blood flowed freely from the alpha. His own bitten abdomen was of little concern to him. The white wolf was weakening, and was due to depart within the hour. His wounds would claim him, if not for the black wolf. Both wolves charged each other once more in a blur of fur and fangs
Turpis gave a slight shiver as he no longer had his fur. After slaying the alpha, he had returned to his human appearance. He trudged through the snow until he reached the tree in which he had hidden his clothing. He quickly returned to the warmth of his clothing. He made his way back to the fallen alpha and dropped to one knee. He leaned in and placed a kiss upon the wolf's cheek;then he defanged it. In his palm he held four canines. With his prize in hand, he stood up and walked from the gravesite of the tundra wolves.