Blight Wolves
Blight Wolves
Overview
Blight Wolves are wolves consumed entirely by the malevolent corruption infecting the Gloomwood. Born initially as normal wolf pups, these creatures shun their natural brethren, drawn inexplicably toward the corruption. They grow swiftly in its influence, becoming twisted and cruel predators who hunt not out of hunger or necessity, but purely for sport, pleasure, and the thrill of inflicting suffering.
Physical Description
Blight Wolves are large, powerful wolves whose bodies have warped grotesquely under the corruption. Their fur is patchy, coarse, and blackened, clinging unevenly to gaunt, muscular frames marked by twisted bone and unnatural growths. Their limbs are elongated, allowing swift and unsettling movement, and their claws and fangs drip with an oily venom that brings agony to any unfortunate prey. Eyes glow with malevolent, sickly yellow light, sharp and cunning, always seeking the next cruel amusement.
Behavior & Ecology
Unlike natural wolves, Blight Wolves disdain the structure of healthy packs, forming unstable groups bound only by a shared joy in cruelty. They taunt and toy with their prey, prolonging the hunt for the twisted pleasure it brings them. Normal wolves instinctively avoid these corrupted predators, sensing the unnatural wrongness about them.
Their very presence poisons the earth, corrupting plants and soil, turning their hunting grounds into blighted, lifeless patches within the forest.
Dark laughter echoed softly through the twisted trees, and a feral elf spun, his eyes wide with fury and mounting dread. Behind him, his wolf companion snarled defensively, hackles raised, senses straining desperately against the shifting shadows.
Around them, the corrupted forest whispered. Shapes slid between trees, impossible to track clearly—elongated shadows, eyes glowing hungrily in the gloom. A mocking bark sounded nearby, then another, further away, as if the hunters were everywhere at once.
One of the elf riders lunged forward, spear ready. He stabbed into shadows, but struck nothing. A sickening laughter rippled through the pack, almost human in its cruel amusement.
"Show yourselves, cowards!" the rider growled defiantly, gripping his wolf companion tighter. Yet the shadows only deepened, and mocking yellow eyes gleamed brighter.
Suddenly, a monstrous form stepped slowly forward into a shaft of pale moonlight—larger than any wolf should be, its distorted form ragged and uneven. Yellow eyes watched the elf calmly, a predator's cruel grin showing venomous fangs.
"Found you," its eyes seemed to whisper, sinister and amused.
The elf moved swiftly, raising his spear again, but froze as more wolves melted silently from the darkness, surrounding him and his wolf in a tightening circle. They shifted closer, then further away, clearly enjoying his fear and uncertainty. Every time he tried to turn and face one, another nipped lightly from behind, leaving shallow, painful wounds. The wolves' jaws dripped venom, promising agony rather than swift mercy.
The elf's wolf companion growled and lunged forward bravely, only to be struck aside effortlessly, injured but deliberately not killed. The Blight Wolves chuckled softly, clearly amused at this defiant show of bravery.
They didn't rush, didn't hurry their cruelty. This wasn't hunting for food or survival—this was play, twisted entertainment as they methodically broke the riders' courage, piece by piece.
One by one, the Blight Wolves faded into the shadows again, eyes glittering with cruel anticipation, allowing the elves a fragile hope of escape before they began the twisted game once more.
Hide and seek—the pack’s favorite game. And they intended to play all night.
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