The men snap into formation, shoulders touching, lanterns trembling.
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Then — in front of Paul — dozens of yellow eyes ignite in the dark. Reflecting off the fires embers.
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Laughing.
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Howling.
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Crying.
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Paul doesn’t draw a weapon. He stands tall, squared, reading the pack.
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Metro unsheathes one single dagger, hands shaking from the cold. His lantern hovers over Paul’s shoulder.
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Gregory draws his bow. Sam is pressed to his shoulder. He lights two torches, shoving one into Paul’s hand.
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The howls surge forward.
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A blur of white slams into Paul — a massive wolf — swiping his forearm. His torch drops and dies in the snow.
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Paul is ripped from the circle, dragged into the darkness by the alpha.
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Three smaller wolves crash into Gregory and Sam. Gregory blocks snapping jaws with his bow. Sam kicks wildly, screaming, waving fire, the wolves yelping and scattering from the flames.
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Metro lunges after Paul — but a wolf clamps onto his boot, dragging him back toward Gregory and Sam. Metro twists, slashing his blade, the wolf recoils missing a small piece of it's ear. It flees whimpering.
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Metro pushes forward again — but another wolf tackles him, slamming him into the snow.
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METRO:(echoes)
HAAA!!
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A burst of electricity surges from Metro’s pushed palms, blasting the wolf several feet away from him.
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Greg fumbles his lantern. Arrows whistle — he fires his bow blindly into the dark. Wolves circle the perimeter, unseen but everywhere. Sam roars into the night.
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SAM:
“Fight me to the death then!!”
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Sams torch almost sputters out from wild swings. He throws his bat around wildly, shadow boxing in the dark.
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Metro grabs his fallen lantern, breath ragged.
He hears Paul’s scream cutting through the storm.
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Metro runs toward him, lantern raised, dagger ready.
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He pushes deeper into the dark — and then he sees it.
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Paul.
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Shirt ripped to bits.
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Blood flying, streaking from his ripped skin.
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A dozen wolves latched onto him — shoulders, arms, legs, back — a writhing mass of white fur and teeth.
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PAUL:(screaming, violently, primally)
“AAAAAARRRGGGGHHHHHH!!”
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Paul hurls wolves off him with raw strength, slamming them into the snow. Cracks and thuds echo. The pack shrieks as Paul’s haymakers send them flying.
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Metro freezes — horrified.
Paul looks like a man fighting an avalanche of living shadows.
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Before Metro can reach him, Paul tears the last wolf away. The pack scatters, laughing and barking as they vanish into the storm.
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Sam collapses, injured. Gregory sees him and limps foward, clutching his wrist, picking him up by his arm.
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Metro reaches Paul last, breath shaking, and drapes his coat over Paul's shredded cloak.
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He’s bleeding badly.
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But he’s alive.
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A voice cracks through the storm.
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Kyle: (distant)
“Guys! Is that you?!
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Come get me — quick!”
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His shout echoes off a nearby cliff, bouncing between jagged walls of ice.
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Metro’s breath leaves him in a shaky exhale.
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METRO:
“thank you…”
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Sam whistles sharply for the horses, the sound slicing through the wind.
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Gregory is already moving — he slings his lantern around his neck like a glowing necklace, tightens the straps on his spiked climbing gloves, and begins scaling the cliff face. His boots dig into the ice with purpose, fingers gripping stone.
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Below, Metro, Sam, and Paul watch him ascend. Even Paul — bleeding, cloak shredded, wrapped in Metro’s coat — manages a faint smile.
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METRO:
“Let’s hurry back…”
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Paul nods, head low but steady. He grunts dramatically trying to get up on his own.
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The wind roars again, colder than before, as if its angry they survived.
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Metro and Sam hook their arms under Paul’s shoulders, lifting him carefully. Paul winces but doesn’t complain. His weight is heavy — not just from injuries, but more so from the fight he just survived.
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The lantern light dashes wildly, barely cutting through the dark. Snow swirls around them like ghosts.
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Sally and Stone trot toward them, guided by Sam’s whistle. Their breaths puff out in thick clouds, hooves crunching through the frozen crust.
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Metro and Sam struggle through the drifts, half‑carrying, half‑dragging Paul toward Stone.
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Paul tries to stand again on his own for a moment — stubborn as ever — but his legs buckle. Metro tightens his grip.
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METRO:
“Easy man…”
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They lift Paul onto Stone’s saddle. The big stallion shifts but holds steady, sensing the urgency.
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Metro adjusts Paul’s posture, tying the cloak tighter around him to keep the heat in. He checks the lantern, shielding it from the wind with his hand.
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Above them, Gregory reaches Kyle — a small figure curled against the cliff wall, shivering violently.
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Gregory’s lantern glows around them like a tiny sun.
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Kyle’s voice cracks with relief.
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KYLE:(shivering)
“I thought… I thought I was done for…’
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He pats Kyle's shoulder, breath fogging.
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GREGORY:
“Not tonight, friend. Let’s get you home.”
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Gregory begins guiding him down the cliff, slow and steady.
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Below, Metro looks up at them, then back at Paul, then at Sam — all battered, all breathing hard, all still alive.
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The storm howls, but the men ride together, mounted on their mystic beast.
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A broken, bruised, half‑frozen line of brothers.
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And for the first time all night…
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The mountain feels survivable.
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and then Add to home screen.