"You're sure this is what you want to do?" Flare asks, frowning down at the village of Forest Spirit.

"Nope," I say, ears flicking. "I'm gonna do it anyway, though,"

Flare sighs. "You're an idiot,"

I grin. "So I've heard."

Down the hill, Sam emerges from the undergrowth, beckoning us forwards with a flick of his tail.

"Showtime," I quip before racing down the hill.

We charge onto the village entry road, the residents screaming and dogging out of our way.

I stand in front of the gates to the village, my pack behind me, and we wait.

Dean looks around, humming. "Nice place,"

"Isn't it?" I agree.

The guards begin to block the entrance, taking their spears out and shakily pointing them at us. My packmates snap and snarl at them, ears pinned back and tails stiff.

I growl lowly, stepping closer to the head guard. "We seek counsel with your leader," I say in the human tongue.

I smile as the guard shakes. "On what authority?" He asks weakly.

I bare my teeth. "Mine."

He nods, backing away and sprinting into the village.

I stand taller. "Keep your drool in your mouth, Sam, you look ridiculous," I say.

"Sorry," Sam says, licking his jowls.

After many long, tense minutes, a tall, imposing man strides out of the village gates, dressed in noble fabric, with his long, dark hair pinned back from his face.

Intellectually, I know that this is my father, yet any affection I had once held for him is mysteriously missing. I'll have to remember to speak to Flare about this...

Lord Baron of Forest Spirit glares at us, his hand gripped on the hilt of his sword. "Who are you?" He demands.

"I am Reaper," I reply. I wish, not for the first time, that my voice wasn't so rough and aggressive. Not the best for diplomatic interactions, I'd say.

Baron narrows his eyes. "Yes, I've heard of you," he snarls with almost as much ferocity as one of us wolves. "Why are you here?"

"You are the one who sends the hunters into our forest, are you not?" I drawl, getting straight to the point.

"I am."

"Stop."

Baron scoffs. "Or what?"

"We will use their bones to sharpen our teeth," I say calmly.

Baron's eyes spark in anger. "Is that a threat, mutt?"

"That's a promise, ape," I snap, lowering my head and bearing my teeth.

Baron's eyes darken. Oh no. I know that look. "We have entertained this man-eater long enough. Kill them."

I hum, eyes wide. "Well, we tried," I say nervously, as the guards charge us. We probably should have seen this coming. I turn to my packmates, barking, "Don't just stand there!"

Sam grins wickedly, sprinting head-first into a guard and clamping his jaws around their exposed neck.

"That's not what I meant!" I scream franticly.

Alarra howls gleefully. "Murder, yay!"

"Murder, nay!" I call after her as she tackles a guard.

Flare back-paws an approaching guard, sending them flying into the village wall.

Flare looks at the crumpled corpse, eyes wide. "Huh, didn't know I was that strong," he mumbles.

Dean locks his jaws around a guard's arm, shaking and twisting his head mercilessly, "This is fun!" He calls through a mouthful of blood and flesh.

I choke on my saliva, "Dea-" A sudden, stabbing pain bursts from my side. I yelp, whirling around to grab the spear in my mouth, snapping it in half with one bite.

"Fuck it. Murder, yay," I growl.

I snarl furiously, launching myself at the guard and tearing into them with the teeth and claws, their screams quickly being drowned out by the sound of rushing blood in my ears.

Another stab to my thigh does nothing but anger me more. "Son of a bitch!" I curse, flinging my body towards the aggressor. I slash at their chest with my claws, latch onto their jaw with my teeth and pull.

The bone comes lose with a few thrashes of my head, the skin tearing away as I toss it towards the tree line, my tongue coated in a thick layer of human blood.

I twist, eyes locking on Sam, who was cornered by two guards. I lunge at them, grabbing the closest one's leg in my jaws and running backwards.

I release his leg, pinning him down with a paw and latching my jaws around his neck and squeezing. I feel his flesh give out beneath my teeth, and I rip out his throat in one swift movement.

I twist, breaking out into a run and mowing down another spearman. I bite down on their arm, whipping my head around and shredding their flesh into threads.

Underneath all of the screaming and snarls, I hear Sam yelp, and then see him run into the forest, "I think they got the message, fellas!"

"Fall back!" I shout, chasing after Sam and leaving the spearman I had been about to finish off to bleed out.

Soon, I hear three other sets of paws keeping pace behind us. The others had made it out alright.

"Well lads, I think we've just worsened the problem!" I call over my shoulder.

"You think?!" Flare screams. Ohh, he sounds angry. I'm not looking forward to that lecture...

###

We sit at the riverbank, taking our time to wash the half-dry blood out of our fur, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the cool river water on our wounded pelts.

"So," Alarra begins awkwardly. It's the first word that's been said in an hour. We all look over to her, and she shifts uneasily on her paws "I kind of fucked this up, huh?"

I frown. "How so?"

"Well," she sighs in frustration. "I'm the one who suggested the stupid idea!"

I nod. "And I'm the one who agreed to it, despite the protests of my Beta, who is a very smart wolf, by the way." I shrug. "It's not your fault, Winter, dont worry about it,"

"It was a really dumb plan," Flare grumbles, eyes closed as he lounges on the rocky shore, where he has been relaxing for the past half an hour.

Sam hums from where he's snapping at the minnows in the calm shallows. I roll my eyes at him, smiling.

"Besides," I continue, "Threatening Lord Barron probably wasn't the best course of action,"

"Darra-" Flare starts.

I cut him off, "In other words, I'm an impulsive dumb ass who doesn't deserve Flare's love and patience,"

Flare grunts, rolling onto his back. "It was still a dumb plan," he growls, "I hope that's not the best you have to offer this pack, White,"

Dean splashes the red-furred wolf. "Don't give her such a hard time, Red. She's new. She'll learn." He says before returning to his fishing.

"She'll learn quicker if I give her a hard time," Flare counters, scowling at his newly-wet pelt. He's been a real grump ever since the botched plan, though I don't really blame him.

Alarra frowns at the water, lowering her head to rest on her forelegs morosely.

It was a stupid plan, but I honestly don't blame her. It is my responsibility as Alpha to be... well, responsible. I shouldn't have even taken her plan into consideration. Or, at least, I should have spent more time fleshing it out into an actual plan. What they did today wasn't a plan, it was an idea for a plan without any of the effort.

I bump Alarra's snout with mine, smiling at her. "Flare loves calling people idiots, it's how he shows affection," I stage-whisper, winking.

Alarra grins mischievously, swaying her tail joyously.

Flare rolls back onto his belly. "That's not true, why do you think that?" Flare demands, looking at me as though I were the biggest moron he'd ever met.

"Love you too, Dear,"

Alarra giggles, cooing at the grumpy wolf, "Such a sweetheart,"

Flare grumbles, letting his head fall back onto the cool gravel.

###

The next day

"Alright!" I declare as we stroll across the floor of my den "New plan!"

"Ah, yes, because those always go over so well," Flare drawls, brushing his shoulder against mine as we take a seat in front of my map. Oh yeah, he's definitely still bitter about yesterday.

My eyes flicker over the lines carved into the hard dirt, ignoring Flare's sarcasm.

"My dear Devil, how do you feel about caravans?"

Flare frowns. "About caravans in general or about doing something to a caravan?"

"Yes,"

Flare groans, throwing his head back. "Lord, give me the strength,"- he mumbles, scuffing his paws in the dirt.

"Dramatics," I chastise lightly.

Sobering, I hold a paw up over the map, indicating a dirt road that was roughly to the 'northeast' of our camp "I've seen a trading caravan run this road on the same day for the last three months,"

Flare hums, eyes thoughtfully scanning the map. "How accurate do you think this map is?" He asks.

I shrug. "That's pretty debatable. Obviously, I don't have a compass, so I've been basing the direction on the river," I say, indicating to the river to the 'south' of the map.

"So," Flare begins, turning to look me in the eye "You want to... what? Rob it? Hijack it?" He asks, only half-joking.

"Of course not, that would be ridiculous. It's a trading caravan, hardly of any use to us," I say, shaking my head. "No, I want to sabotage it,"

"Ah," Flare says, standing up so that he could pace. "Because that makes so much more sense!"

I sit calmly, watching him pace from wall to wall, his tail twitching irritably and his ears drawn back in frustration. Oh, boy...

Finally, he stops in the dead centre of the room, cocking his head. "Why exactly?" He asks.

"Well, I-"

"And, how?"

"We wait in-"

"No, hold on, when are we doing this?" Oh god, he's pacing again.

"Well, you see-"

"I just can't believe you want to sabotage a caravan! What's the point?"

"That's a goo-"

"The risk far outweighs the reward -whatever the hell that is- any logical person wouldn't even consider-!"

"Flare,"

"-The timing would have to be just right, and depending on the time of day our cover would be minimal at best-"

"Flare,"

"-you do know that trading caravans have security, right? I mean, I can't imagine that a gunshot would be easy to recover from, even for one of us, the repercussions of-"

"FLARE!"

Flare stills, his breathing uneven and his eyes wide. "Yes?"

"Breathe," I remind, nipping at his ear. "If you want me to explain my madness, you need to let me speak."

Flare ducks his head sheepishly. "Right, sorry,"

I clear my throat. "Firstly, the caravan is elven, and you know how Sam holds a grudge,"

Flare nods. "He really doesn't like elves,"

"No, he doesn't, but more specifically, he doesn't like the elves that caged him, and it just so happens that I recognize the carts those highlanders pull..."

Flare blinks, jaw going slack. "Sam was merchandise," he whispers, eyes wide.

I nod. "And if they found Sam, there's a good chance they've found others,"

"We never did ask Sam how he turned..."

"I figure there has to be someone else like me out there, someone who wasn't turned with a bite but can turn other people anyway. And, if it happened once, like with Sam, it could happen again,"

"A logical conclusion," Flare says, seemingly pleased with my theory.

"We're going to have to speak with Sam," I muse, eyes scanning the map. "Finally get his story. All we have to do to sabotage the caravan is take out the horses. A good hit to the legs should take them out of commission for the foreseeable future,"

Flare sighs. "First we'll talk to Sam, and then you're going to sell me on the caravan idea. If it does come through every month, we'll have plenty of time to actually plan instead of just running in blind,"

"Fair enough," I allow. "You know, we really should get a tactical planner,"

"Not Sam," Flare says immediately.

"Obviously."