The moon was high in the ink-black sky, sending a ghostly light glowing over the forest. The shadows danced across the dense canopy as the wind howled across the branches, seemingly whispering warnings to the lone figure racing between the towering trees. Rosaline's breath came in ragged gasps, her heart pounding out a frantic rhythm which matched the racing of her footsteps. In her arms, the small bundle stirred, and a tiny whimper slipped from baby Rosetta's lips.
"Shh, my love," Rosaline whispered, pressing a kiss to the infant's soft, gold hair. "Mama's here."
Behind her, the growls of the pack grew loud-a chilling chorus of death. The werewolves, powerful and relentless, closed in. They had caught her scent long before she reached the heart of the woods, and now they hunted with the ferocity of a storm. There was no going back. Rosaline knew what she had to do.
And then, beneath the leaves, she saw it-the base of an ancient oak, its trunk gnarled and hollowed by time, a silent witness to battles and births. She knelt, her hands shaking, and laid Rosetta deep within the dark cavity, wrapping the baby tightly in the shawl embroidered with silver-threaded runes. For another moment, Rosaline's fingers lingered upon the child's face, committing to memory that curve of cheek, the small, perfect lashes fanning over closed eyes.
A rumbling growl tore through the night, closer now, just beyond the clearing. Rosaline inhaled sharply, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear before standing to draw their attention away from the tree. She sprinted forward, clutching the baby's shawl tightly to her chest as she faced the inevitable.
The first wolf materialized, his eyes aglow with feral intent, his midnight fur standing on end in the moonlight. Three others crept out behind him, muscles taut, ready to spring. Rosaline returned their stare with unblinking resolve.
"This ends with me," she whispered, adjusting the shawl so that it would draw their interest.
A howl filled with anger and victory echoed through the woods. The lead wolf sprang forward, a blur of teeth and claws. Rosaline's scream shattered the silence, and in that instant, blood and moonlight mixed as the forest floor ran crimson.
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