Sanctuary: Safe Haven

Canna nodded at Roderic, his expression calm but resolute. "We'll take it from here," he said, signaling the man to stay back. As the heavy gate creaked open, Canna stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto the creature before him.

The first thing he noticed was the wolf's eyes—brilliant, piercing blue, glowing with a cold light that contrasted starkly against its ragged, dirt-covered fur. But before Canna could fully take in the sight, Grimruk swiftly moved in front of him, his massive battle axe ready, while Flora positioned herself behind Canna, her glowing vines poised to strike.

"Master," Grimruk's voice was low, tense. "This is a disaster rank wolf." His weapon remained trained on the wolf, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Canna understood their caution. The last disaster rank creature they had faced had nearly cost him his life. He had barely survived that encounter, walking away with only his life and a missing arm. The memory was fresh, the scars still visible. But this wolf… there was something different about it.

Canna's gaze traveled over the wolf's massive form. It was enormous, at least 60 feet tall, with fur that might have once been a pristine silver but was now matted and dirty, evidence of its harsh treatment. Chains bound its powerful paws and snout, and its body was marked with multiple wounds—fresh scars that spoke of recent battles or perhaps torture.

It was a beaten, yet still proud creature, its posture defiant despite its restraints.

As Canna continued to study the wolf, an odd memory flickered through his mind—his final moments back on Earth, in a wolf enclosure. The memory was strangely vivid, the sound of howling wolves in the distance, the scent of earth and fur… He couldn't explain why it surfaced now, but it felt oddly fitting. Maybe it was fate, or perhaps just a strange twist of destiny, that had led him to this moment.

Grimruk, sensing the danger, tightened his grip on his axe. His eyes darted between the wolf and Canna, prepared to intervene at a moment's notice. But before he could act, Canna gently placed a hand on the weapon and pushed it down. "Trust me on this one," he said softly, his eyes never leaving the wolf.

The tension in the air was palpable as Canna began to approach the chained beast. The wolf's eyes followed him, sharp and cautious, its chains clinking with every small movement. Flora and Grimruk remained tense, ready to spring into action, but they held their positions, trusting Canna's judgment.

Canna stopped at a respectful distance, close enough to show his intent but far enough to avoid immediate danger. He looked into the wolf's eyes, searching for something deeper—pain, defiance, a spark of the soul that still fought against its circumstances. He felt a connection, a strange pull between him and this creature. Perhaps it was the memory of Earth, or perhaps something more instinctual.

Whatever it was, it urged him to reach out.

"What's your na—" he began, but before he could finish, the wolf's jaws snapped open, its massive teeth clamping down with a resounding crack just inches in front of Canna's face.

The air seemed to freeze in that moment. Grimruk and Flora were shocked, their instincts screaming at them to attack, but what shocked them even more was Canna's reaction. He didn't flinch, didn't back away. Instead, he raised his hand in a calming gesture, signaling them to hold their ground.

The wolf, too, seemed surprised by Canna's unflinching bravery. It retracted slightly, its eyes narrowing as it reassessed the man standing before it. There was no fear in Canna's gaze, only a deep, unyielding resolve. For a moment, the wolf remembered the countless humans it had faced before—their fear, their cruelty, their relentless desire to dominate. But this one was different.

There was no malice in his eyes, no greed, just… understanding.

"I don't know what thoughts you have in mind right now," Canna said, his voice steady, filled with a quiet empathy. "I don't know what you've been through, and I especially don't know why you had to be injured like this. But what I do know is that you need help." He paused, locking eyes with the wolf. "Do you want my help, or do you want to rot in here?"

The wolf's eyes widened slightly, as if in shock. There was no malice in Canna's words, no hidden agenda. Instead, the wolf felt something it hadn't in a long time—warmth, sincerity. It had been so long since anyone had offered it anything other than pain or fear.

The sincerity in Canna's voice was undeniable, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the wolf felt a flicker of something… hope.

The wolf eyed Canna warily, its gaze searching for any sign of deceit. But there was none. After a tense moment, the wolf gave a small, hesitant nod.

Canna smiled slightly, understanding the gesture. He summoned a sword from his storage ring, a simple but sturdy blade. As he walked closer to the wolf, Grimruk and Flora's hearts raced, their bodies tense with anticipation. Even Noctis, perched on Canna's shoulder, felt a wave of fear, but he trusted his master implicitly.

"I'll take away the chains on your mouth first," Canna said, his voice calm. "Then we can talk."

He moved slowly, deliberately, every step calculated. The wolf's eyes never left him, watching his every movement with an intensity that could have pierced stone. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut as Canna reached the wolf, raising his sword over the chains binding its snout.

Grimruk and Flora stood ready, their bodies taut with tension, muscles coiled like springs ready to snap. Grimruk's hands gripped his battle axe so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his every instinct screaming at him to protect his master at all costs. His sharp eyes never left the wolf, tracking its every movement, prepared to strike the moment it showed any sign of aggression.

Beside him, Flora's vines glowed faintly, the tips of each tendril pulsing with a soft, green light. The energy within her was palpable, a living force waiting to be unleashed, and her connection to the earth beneath them made her even more attuned to the shifting energies in the room.

She could feel the wolf's every breath, its heartbeat, and even the subtle tremors in its muscles as it contemplated its next move.

Noctis, perched on Canna's shoulder, was still as a statue, his tiny talons digging slightly into Canna's robes for stability. The small owl's wide, luminous eyes reflected the flickering torchlight, capturing every detail with an eerie precision. His feathers, normally so soft and fluid, seemed to bristle with anticipation.

Noctis had never been this close to a creature of such power before, and though his small form remained outwardly calm, a shiver of fear raced down his spine. His mind raced, calculating the potential outcomes of this encounter, his telepathic bond with Canna thrumming with heightened awareness.

Every instinct told him that this situation could turn deadly in an instant, but he trusted Canna's judgment completely, even as his heart hammered in his tiny chest.

The three of them—Grimruk, Flora, and Noctis—were united in their vigilance, each prepared to act at a moment's notice. The air between them was charged with the unspoken understanding that, if necessary, they would lay down their lives to protect Canna. Yet, despite the tension that thrummed through their bodies, they held back, their faith in Canna overriding their fear.

They had seen him face impossible odds before, and somehow, deep down, they knew he could reach this creature, this disaster rank wolf, in a way that no one else could.

Canna could feel the weight of the moment, the potential for disaster if this went wrong. But he had to trust his instincts. He had to believe that this creature, despite everything it had been through, could still be reached.

With a steady hand, Canna swung the sword down.

Clang!

The sound of metal striking metal echoed through the chamber as the blade sliced through the chains. For a heartbeat, everything was still.

The chains fell away from the wolf's snout, clattering to the ground. The wolf remained motionless, its eyes locked onto Canna's. There was a moment of raw tension, a silent exchange between man and beast. The wolf's breath came out in slow, heavy huffs, as if it were testing the air for something.

The wolf's eyes, still bright and piercing, softened just slightly.