That Night

"Why are yeh askin' me this jus' now?"

I tsk, cocking my head. "Good question. I guess it just didn't seem to matter that much, at first,"

Sam nods, slowly. "Okay, then..."

"Well...?" Flare prompts, leaning forwards slightly in interest.

Sam shifts, his eyes locking on the ground, his brow furrowed in thought. "Hmm, I suppose it was about a year ago, up in Fernhold, my 'ome province. I was walkin' through the woods one nigh', not sure why, I think we had run out of tinder. Nevermind, doesn' matter. One minute, I was tryin' not to trip on the roots, and the next I was on the floor wit' my leg looking like It'd been thrown through a lumber mill,"

There was a lot to unpack there, but what I found most interesting was the province he'd lived in. Fernhold was miles away from this province. Hell, it was three whole other provinces away. A long way for a lone wolf to travel, even more so given that wolves are actively hunted in Fernhold.

Flare hums. "How did you get home?"

Sam shrugs. "I didn', I blacked ou' from the pain or blood loss or wha' have yeh. Whatever way you shape it, I wasn' in the bes' state for walkin'."

"And you didn't see what attacked you?" I ask.

"Nope. Can hazard a guess, though,"

"Shit," Flare mumbles.

No shit, shit. The prospect of a turned wolf who was separate from our pack was both worrying and intriguing. What made them turn? I was never bitten, but here I am, so.

"Sorry, Reaper,"

"No problem, Sam," I reassure, "It's not a huge deal. Fernhold is miles away, anyhow."

Sam looks between the two of us, cocking a brow "Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Darra," he drawls, "Now, what was tha' you were sayin' abou' the elves?"

"Hold your horses there, Buckaroo," Flare says, mostly just to watch me die a bit on the inside, I'm sure. "We still need to know about how you actually turned, and how you were captured,"

"Fuck that, spit out your entire backstory," I say, settling in for the tale and ignoring the daggers Flare glares at me.

Sam grumbles a bit but begins his story nonetheless.

He says that he had been bed-ridden up until then he had turned because his family were concerned his wound would get infected. His younger sisters (of which he had five) took over most of his chores while his wound healed up. At midnight of the seventh day after he'd been bitten, he turned. He didn't remember the actual transformation very well, but he did remember leaping through an open window and sprinting into the woods.

He never returned to his family's farm, and instead began wandering through the woods. He journeyed further and further away from his home, so far he didn't even know if he was still in the same province. He's not sure how long he'd been wandering around exactly, but after at least a couple of months, he got caught up in a net trap. He'd dangled in the net for hours before the elves came to collect him. They'd put him in a cage and thrown him in a cart and they were off. He was with them for about two months before I released him.

Flare hummed once Sam had wrapped up his story. The red-furred wolf looked over to me, tail flicking in irritation. "I don't think I like these people very much,"

"No," I agree. "That'll certainly make heavily inconveniencing them a lot more fun,"

Sam's tail swished, left to right. His grin was bright enough to light up the whole forest. "Tha's wha' I like to hear!"

###

The Next Morning

"Darra!"

"Yes, dear?"

Dean scrunches up his muzzle at the endearment, looking torn between laughing or gagging.

Amused by this, I allow him a moment to make the decision. He ends up combing the two in a sound that was both disturbing and mildly impressive.

"Are you done?" I ask.

Dean cocks his head in mock consideration. "Hmm, perhaps..."

I give him a flat look. "What did you need?"

Dean sobers, straightening his stance and padding closer to where I sat at the edge of the cliff. He bows his head respectfully, something I'm still not quite used to. Flare has told me these behaviours are instinct, but also that they can be ignored.

"There has been a sighting, Alpha,"

"Of?"

"I was getting to that," Dean says. "It was hunters, as usual. However, these ones seem to have an advantage over the others,"

I cock a brow. Why Dean insists on building tension is beyond me. He's an odd duck.

"Hunting dogs, Alpha,"

I curse, leaping to my feet and striding towards the tree line. Dean hurried to keep up.

"Hunting dogs complicate things. How in the world no one else has thought of them before now is beyond me. Are all hunters that stupid?"

"Most of them are missing a few screws, yes," Dean says, no doubt speaking from experience.

I growl, irritated. Humans can never leave well enough alone. "These hunters have become a burr in my side that I cannot ignore,"

"My thoughts exactly," says Dean. "What are you going to do about it?"

"What do you usually do to burrs, Dean?" I ask, stoping abruptly and turning to face the grey-furred wolf.

Dean shrugs.

I grin. "You rip them out of your fur,"

###

"You're acting without thinking again, Darra," Flare says in his 'You're being an Idiot' tone. He uses it with me often enough for me to recognize it.

"Am I?" I ask, stoping my pacing and turning to face the red-furred wolf.

"Yes," Flare says emphatically.

I nod and sit down. "Okay, so think it through with me,"

The look on Flare's face is priceless, a mix between shock and unbridled joy. "You're actually taking my advice?"

"It has occurred to me that if I had listened to you before, I could have saved myself a lot of headaches," I swish my tail around to cover my injured flank, where I carry a slight limp. "You're my Beta, aren't you? There must be more to that position then a title, don't you think? So, think it through with me,"

Flare nods slowly. He clears his throat. "Killing a ton of humans won't solve anything. It will only make them angrier,"

"I agree," I say with a slight nod. "What do you propose we do instead? We can't just let them walk all over us, to chase us off or kill us,"

"I know," Flare says, holding up a placating paw. "I say we chase them off. We wait until they camp out of the night, and when they're asleep we kill their huntings dogs and horses, steal their supplies, and their weapons. We'll scratch up some trees to let them know they aren't hunting average wolves,"

It's not a bad plan, considering all of the plans we've ever concocted.

"Alright. We'll go over the details with the rest of the pack at dusk, spread the word to meet beneath the boulder,"

"Yes, Alpha," Flare says with a respectful nod. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course,"

Flare nods thankfully. "Why are you so against being chased off? I mean, you put it on par with being killed, so I figure you rank them about the same on the terribleness scale,"

I hum, thinking for a moment about my answer. "I'm not against leaving the aria, per se. But I have something I need to do here, first,"

"Oh? And what's that?"

"Turn my brothers, of course,"

Flare takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment, lets it out. He shakes his head and slips out of my den without comment.

###

"So you finally listened to Flare?" Alarra asks wryly.

"I was surprised too," Flare says.

"Tha's strange, I haven' seen any swine up in the sky recently," Sam says contemplatively.

"Must've been a cold snap in hell, then," Dean adds.

"Ahh, tha'd be it," Sam agrees.

"Are you quite done?" I ask drily.

The group look to one another, no doubt searching for another smart remark or six. I growl warningly and they straighten, looking up at me with four identical innocent expressions.

"Good," I say shortly. It's not that I think that I hadn't earned their teasing, it's just that now was not the time for it. I stand up straighter on the boulder, trying out the 'leader' stance I had been practicing.

The four wolves stood below me perk up slightly, listening patiently.

"Now, let's discuss," I begin. "I figure that since Dean has quite a bit of practice in stealing from hunters, that would be your part. You don't need to take much, just a few weapons and some of their rations. Flare will help you. Sam, Alarra, you're going to be killing the animals. I only ask that you do it quietly. As for me, I'll be marking the trees around the camp. If all goes to plan, we should be in and out in half an hour or less. Any questions?"

Sam raised a paw. I roll my eyes but nod to him, giving my permission for him to speak.

"Who's goin' to be scoutin' 'em?"

"Dean and I," Seeing doubt on the scruffy wolf's face, I explain my reasoning. "We blend in a lot better than anyone else, and we can both shut up and sit still for hours at a time."

Alarra looks like she wants to be offended, but also like she knows herself well enough to know that I'm right. Sam nods, conceding.

"How about our back-up plan if the hunters wake up?" Asks Dean.

"Run like hell," I say, like it's obvious. Because, well, it is.

"That sounds awfully familiar," Flare drawls. Sam woofs in agreement.

"If any of you have a better idea, I'm all ears," I say, moving my ears into a more alert position.

Dean snorts but apart from that, no one says anything.

"That's what I thought,"

Alarra sighs and raises her paw, copying Sam. I've noticed that she copies us other wolves quite a bit, perhaps as a way to fit in more. I can't imagine it's easy for her to be the only female in the pack. I should probably amend that soon...

"Yes, Winter?"

"Do you want us to kill all of the animals or only a few?"

I think about that for a moment. The dogs were what I was most concerned about, they were actually a threat to us. If the hunters ever found out where our camp was, we'd either have to move or kill them all, so that they couldn't spread the word. The horses, on the other hand, were to make a point. They would say: 'look at this big dumb animal we killed for no other reason than to scare you, do you feel threatened?'.

Having my answer, I reply: "Kill all of the dogs, kill one or two horses,"

Alarra nods determinedly. She always brought home bigger game than her fellow mid-rankers, always followed my orders without question. She was determined to prove herself useful to the pack. She, in my humble opinion, worried too much. But she was new, she'd settle, as the others had settled. As I had.

When no one else speaks or raises their paw, I cock a brow. "Are we done here?"

Flare looks at the other three before nodding. "I think so,"

"Fantastic. You're all dismissed. Dean, with me." I leap down from the boulder as the rest of the pack return to their previous tasks.

"Yes, Alpha," Dean says, following into step behind me.

I lead us between the trees, letting my nose lead us in the direction of the hunting party.

###

The Next Night

When I had presented my plan to Darra, I honestly hadn't expected him to go through with it. I certainly hadn't expected him to go through with it so quickly.

I was surprised, pleasantly so, when he requested a pack meeting to discuss the plan. I was even more pleased when he actually followed through with it, walking the other three though the plan and then elaborating when one of us asked him a question. I don't think I've ever been so proud of someone in my life.

Now, waiting in the trees for Darra's signal, I was beginning to feel the nerves.

"Deep breaths, Red," Dean says, although he sounds more amused than concerned. "You're not even doing the exciting half. You're just stealing rations,"

I shoot the grey-furred wolf an irritated look, knowing full well my nerves were a bit irrational. Even if the hunters did wake up and we somehow couldn't just run away, we were still a pack of massive wolves going up against a few squishy humans in their undergarments. They weren't exactly insurmountable odds.

Still, the nerves thrummed under my skin like an electric current, the fur on my haunches standing up. I snarled at my own body, annoyed. It was to make me appear bigger, I knew, but whenever It happened I couldn't shake the feeling that I looked more like a scruffy puppy than a big, bad wolf.

"Seriously, Devil," Dean says, exasperated. How he reads my restlessness, I'm not sure. Perhaps it was my spiky fur. "Chill,"

I scoff. "'Chill'? You're kidding, right?"

Dean had just opened his mouth to respond when the sound of claws raking down bark reached our ears. Darra's signal.

I stand and cut my way through the drab forest with a confidence I didn't truly feel. By now Alarra and Sam will have killed the dogs left out to alert the hunters of anything amiss.

Dean marches along a few paces behind me, although I'm sure he's not doing it on purpose. Dean doesn't carry the same instinctual respect for me that we all have for Darra. While Dean doesn't disrespect me, he certainly doesn't see me as someone in a position of authority. Sam is the same, although Sam has also never thoughtlessly referred to Darra as his 'Alpha' the way the rest of us have. I'm working on that, I already have a few theories to share with Darra. Alarra is the only one who actually seems to respect my title, which is why she's my favourite.

We break the tree line and I allow my nose the lead me in the direction of the hunters' rations. The scent of blood impedes my progress somewhat, but soon I find them, stuffed in a basket that the hunters had hoisted up a tree with a length of rope.

I examine the knot they'd tied around the base of a separate tree. It's triple knotted, but it is also just about the most basic knot that you can tie. Good Lord, hunters were boring.

I set about uniting the knots with my tongue and teeth. Which, as strange as it sounds, proves to be an effective method. Once the last knot is lose enough, I grab the middle of the rope in my teeth and ease the knot undone, until the end of the rope slips lose and releases it's hold on the tree.

Using the tree as a rest for my front paws, I climb onto my hind legs, lowering the basket as far as I can before I release the rope.

The basket falls to the leaf-litter with a soft 'thump'.

I push off the tree and swiftly examine the basket. Opening the latch with my mouth, I stuff as much of the rope inside as I can before shutting the lid and re-doing the latch as best I can without A) seeing it or B) taking the rope out.

Once I'm satisfied the latch won't fly open, I grab the handles of the basket one by one and slink out of the camp. Once I'm far enough into the woods that I won't alert the hunters, I pick up my pace to a brisk trot.

I return to camp, although it seems like I'm the first one back.

I slip into Darra's den to leave the rations inside as we had discussed. I'm not sure how long it will take the others to get back, so I take the back tunnel back outside. The tunnel that leads into the trees, rather than the semi-treeless meadow that our camp is in.

I turn my nose to the wind in hopes of catching a prey-scent.

Instead, I smell blood. Human blood.