She didn't need a weapon; nature had provided her with her own defences, and with a snap of her powerful jaws, the man's neck was broken. It was mercifully quick, probably more than he deserved and the noise that came from his death was no more than that of a snapped twig. He was gone forever, and no more wolves would be draped, like old curtains from his macabre walls. Innocent souls turned into sick trophies to feed a sad and angry man's ego. She had given her fallen pack the justice they deserved. Job completed.