Lone Gas Station and the White Wolves

A lone gas station stands on the outskirts of a desolate highway, its neon sign flickering under a dark, stormy sky. The red sedan car is parked by the pump, its engine still running. The young woman steps out cautiously, scanning the area. A distant howl echoes through the night, and soon, three white wolves emerge from the surrounding darkness, their breath visible in the cold air. They move silently, their fur glistening under the station’s dim light, their eyes filled with a knowing intelligence. A tense, unspoken moment passes between the woman and the wolves.