The wolf’s steely gaze locked onto Marianne, muscles coiled like drawn bowstrings. One wrong move could unleash its ferocity. Yet there was a glimmer in its eyes that spoke of desperation, not senseless rage. Marianne’s heart pounded. She swallowed hard, determined to discover the truth behind this bizarre encounter.
A low growl rumbled through the church, echoing off the high ceiling. Marianne paused, carefully watching the wolf’s mood. She sank slowly to her knees, trying to appear non-threatening. Despite her fear, her curiosity swelled. The wolf’s posture hinted at an uneasy alliance, as if pleading for help yet poised to defend.