Finality Teeth dripped with drool, the heavy metallic scent of blood intertwined with the foul substance. Ragged fur ran down the muscular body, ending with a thick slashing tail, as the beast trooped through the already deceased on the battlefield. The familiar smell of death filled its huge nostrils, pushing it past the dead to whatever #life was still fighting. Keeping its large snout to the ground, it scouted forward. Its prowl lead it over heaping bodies, cladded in torn armor recently decorated in blood and waste. The beast made its way over to the cliff that overlooked the battlefield. Determining the nonexistence of the enemy relevant, the werewolf mounted the cliff. Rocks crumpled with final farewell under the wolf's enormous weight, already shattered loose from the previous battle. Standing upon the cliff, the beast looked out with sharp, old trained eyes. The sunset casted down, but the earth now uprooted with dirt thrown in the sky, blocked most of the light. The few rays that did show, filtered through the foul air and shown a bright ominous red, darkening to the the familiar color of blood that ran thick below. With the final sharp winds of a day trying to penetrate the werewolf's thick coat, the said beast bowed its head. Letting the last breath of hope be replaced with despair upon the breeze, the wolf raised its head, and let its the deathly howl shake the last faith from the Earth. The deep howl seemed to be the essence of death, slowly demising into the quiet cold as soon as the sun disappeared. It sat upon its haunches, watching the abnormal freeze of the night set in. Bodies became glazed with frost and blood froze its owners and foes alike to the torn ground. All the while, the veteran sat, watching the finality of a war. Not once did the cold bother the beast, it was like a familiar friend. It followed every final war, as the dirt and dust blocked the#moonand stars. The monster closed its eyes, they had won, and he had secured their defeat.