This is the world of Lasia. A world ruled and governed by wolves. Wolves who know the meaning of war, and civilisation.
Long ago, Lasia was seperated into Guilds. Leigons of wolves who had their own slice of unique. They were elementals, who when one was weaker, the whole land seemed to crumble.
Today, all that is lost. There are are a weak remainder of what was. Solarine. The new 'Clan'. They've forged weapons and armour, and sickly ways of training to be gladiators. They are led by the crue
"Keep walking! Get in line, march!"
Lunar flinched as the whip crackled and nipped at her paws. The shackles chafed at her ankles, rubbing her fur and skin raw.
Each pound of the line moving sent an echo down the damp, black tunnels. The only light emmitted from the guttering oil lamp hanging from the lead guard's jaws. The chains clincked between each wolf recruit, rolling like waves into the rear and lashing back into the front.
Somewhere from behind Lunar the links tugged on the yoke around her neck. One of the young she-wolve's had tumbled to her knees.
"Did I say stop?" The guard roared, the black whip slashing at the cowering shape.
Lunar tried to turn, salty tears burning at her eyes. "Leave her alone!"
The leather vexed at her back, flicking like a tail to snip her shoulder. "Keep moving!"
Lunar hissed in pain as hot blood stained her fur. She limped forward and the she-wolf nuzzled her from behind.
"Thank you for sticking up for me..." The wolf said with a roop in her voice.
She smiled weakly. "It's fine."
"My name's Haku."
Lunar hushed her voice as one of the guards gazes cat darkly over her. "I'm Lunar."
They walked on in silence. Lunar thought coldly whether she'd ever rid her mind of marching paw steps. The last of the hope that she had mustered died out, and as they came to a slow halt, so did the light of the lamp.