“Made it with time to spare,” Marc said as he walked through the trenches headed  towards his dugout.

All around him the soldiers were reacting, especially those from behind that saw the blood stained claw marks and smooth flesh of his back. While that was what their eyes were initially focused on, the bloody head of what looked to be from a massive wolf was sure to keep their tongues wagging for the rest of the war.

“Wolves can’t be that big,” someone said.

That line or something similar was a recurring theme. Even if they thought they were being discrete, his vampiric senses heard every word.