The sun was high in the sky, warming the forest as Cinder and her group pressed forward. Their journey to rebuild the fractured werewolf world had been full of surprises, but nothing could have prepared them for what lay ahead.
It started with faint whispers on the wind, like voices calling from a distance. Zara, always attuned to the natural magic of the forest, stopped suddenly and held up her hand.
"Do you hear that?" she asked, her voice low.
Everyone froze, their ears straining. At first, Cinder only heard the rustling of leaves, but then it became clear—a melody of voices, soft and haunting, weaving through the trees.
"What is that?" Jason asked, stepping closer to Cinder.
"I don't know," she replied, her brow furrowed. "But it feels... old."
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