The forest surrounding Asgard was alive that morning. Sunlight streamed through the tall treetops in irregular beams, illuminating patches of moss, thick roots, and the thin mist that hadn't yet completely dissipated from the damp ground. The air carried the scent of earth, crushed leaves, and fresh blood.
Shura moved among the trees with the silent grace of an absolute predator.
The enormous body of the white tigress glided through the vegetation almost silently. Her muscles rippled beneath her white fur, marked by black stripes that seemed like living shadows following her every movement.
Her golden eyes were alert.
She had already hunted quite a bit that morning.
A few meters behind her, three smaller tigers—members of her small pack—carried recent prey in their jaws. A large deer, two boars, and the body of a young elk were being slowly dragged across the forest floor.
It would be taken to Asgard.
The city needed meat.
Shura liked to make sure the supplies never ran low.
