In the hollow silence following their brother's death, the wolves were suddenly galvanized by an eldritch sound echoing from outside the den. It was unlike anything they had ever heard—an eerie, grating noise that grew steadily closer, petrifying them to the bone. Their very ancestry howled within their minds as their blood boiled with pure fear, warning them that this approaching creature was their absolute predator. It was a being that made the white tiger and the green mountain lion seem like benign pups by comparison. They wanted to flee from this place as fast as their legs could carry them, yet there was nowhere to go. They were all still deeply shaken by the devastating events that had just played out. They were mentally exhausted, and in their despair, some of them even harboured fleeting thoughts of welcoming death. Even as Fearless demonic beasts, the pack was consumed by a terror so profound it froze them completely in place.
The white wolf, though the physically weakest of the pack, was the first to break free from the paralyzing fear. He let out a sharp, commanding howl, successfully snapping his mother and sister out of their stupor. They had only one choice left: to run.
They burst from the mouth of the den at top speed, but the moment they crossed the threshold, a massive brown net fell from the sky, trapping all three of them beneath its weight. The white wolf thrashed violently against the strange material, entirely unwilling to let his pack's story end here, so soon after making his solemn vow. They bit and clawed with all their might, throwing the full force of their wind abilities against the mesh, but the net held fast without a single strand fraying.
After a few minutes of completely pointless struggle, they finally saw their captors approaching through the rain. The creatures were like nothing the wolves had ever seen in their lives. Bipedal monstrosities, they stood completely naked of fur, claws, wings, or horns. Instead, they were draped in the cured, dead skin of various mighty beasts. To the pack's utter stupefaction, these fragile-looking creatures, who appeared to be evolution's ultimate rejects, had brought them to heel with indifferent ease.
Overcome with terror, the wolves watched helplessly as one of the bipedal creatures threw a small, round ball directly into the center of the net. The sphere burst instantly upon impact, releasing a thick cloud of pungent fumes that the wolves instinctively inhaled. Within minutes, the world began to spin, and all three fell completely unconscious. The bipedal creatures then hoisted the heavy, limp wolves onto their shoulders and walked away from the abandoned den.
Out on a muddy forest trail, they eventually met up with more of their own kind. These beings had brought a large wooden wagon fitted with heavy iron cages of various sizes, which were already filled with a miserable menagerie of captured demonic beasts: white tigers, mountain lions, white-backed gorillas, and more. The wolves were roughly thrown into three separate, adjacent cages. The iron doors were slammed shut and locked securely, and the heavy wagons, pulled by two straining horses, began the long, agonizing journey out of the Endless Forest.