Night Wolf Descriptive Writing

The Night Wolf

The blazing hot fire crackles against the cold, whipping winds, which echo throughout the soundless night. Stone-grey owls hoot in the distance, their striking yellow eyes piercing the darkness like a silver sewing needle. I tuck my forest-green hood over my strawberry-red hair, shivering against the freezing breeze. My brother, John, tosses more chopped-up wood into the fire, which shoots up and becomes brighter and warmer. I start to relax as the heat seeps into my chilled bones, loosening all my tense muscles.
But it only lasts for a second before I hear a thundering crack in the forest behind me. I whip my head around and see a pair of bright yellow eyes staring at me with hunger. I shriek and whisper sharply, “John! I saw

I wrap it tightly around the huge gashes on John’s calf, thigh, and arm to stop any more blood from leaking. I also pick up a sharp stick for protection and I suddenly feel brave. That wolf is not going to take my brother or me.
After a lot of grunting and groaning I manage to haul John up. He mainly uses me for support as I guide him up the hole. It’s not very steep, but when you are carrying someone heavier than you it feels impossible.
As we reach the top I hear a low growl behind us. I carefully turn around and see a massive grey wolf with bared fangs dripping white foam. Its claws are out and could cut me into multiple pieces easily. I gently set John down to lean against a sturdy tree stump and then I tighten my grip on my stick. The wolf suddenly pounces and I scurry away, almost cowering away in fear.
It swipes for me. I whack its paw with the stick, but that only makes it mad. I back up, but hit a tree. It has cornered me. My hands are slimy with sweat, but I keep a good grip on my weapon. The wolf comes in for the final attack and I brace myself for pain, a lot of dreadful pain, but then I think about what would happen to