Covered in mud, Frost Wolf was as filthy as the stray dogs around it. Like them, it darted through the surrounding streets and alleys, searching for scarce food.
Yet those stray dogs would eventually return to this area.
And each would guard its own territory.
Several days without enough food had left them listless, but that did not stop them from carrying out their innate duty: guarding the home and yard.
Even though there was no one left at home.
The out-of-the-blue war had sent Lerdri's residents fleeing in panic.
Terrified, they had taken most of their valuables and food for the journey, but some "family members" who should have been taken with them had been instinctively overlooked.
The only thing worth being thankful for was that this was only a small minority.
Having returned to the area once again, Frost Wolf lay curled up at the corner of a wall as if exhausted, panting with its tongue hanging out while its mismatched eyes warily watched its surroundings.
Whenever other stray dogs approached—dogs that had always wandered and had never truly drawn close to humans, carrying a vicious air—Frost Wolf would whimper softly. Then, when those strays came any closer, Frost Wolf would immediately flee.
Though it could easily tear those "intruders" apart, Frost Wolf knew what it needed to do and would not reveal anything unusual.
The identity of a stray dog, especially a puppy, was simply too useful.
So useful that Frost Wolf had swiftly inherited all of its mother's Talents and bloodline.
Simply put, Frost Wolf currently looked like an abandoned, lost puppy.
Would anyone care about such a puppy?
Aside from a few kindhearted people, no one would care at all.
And in the currently empty Lerdri, where could any kindhearted people be found?
There were