Out from the mighty pine trees came the roaring figure, leaping through the air with its arm extended and teeth baring. The werewolf was going in for the kill, but the Silver Hand stood their ground as Odin yelled out, "Shields rise! Swords thrust!" A loud, crying yelp was heard and the sound of struggling shortly died down. The werewolf was dead, impaled by Odin Fenrir's very own silver sword. A blade that entered the beast's heart and took its life swiftly. With the blood of the beast forming a pool beneath the men, they all raised their swords and gave out a victory cry, but not Odin. He stayed silent, going down on one knee and looked at his trophy as a hunter would do with a deer.