He was on their trail, he was certain. They were not very stealthy nor good at hiding their tracks, although some basic effort had been put in. It was just two.

Both middle-sized men wearing robes. Mages were tricky. The Wolf had fought his fair share of magic users and he was now intimately familiar with the pain these men's spells could bring and so he crept forward silently.

It was only a few hours before he found them. They were pausing at a small stream so he grabbed a fist sized rock and grew closer. As one bent over to examine the ground, the rock whistled toward the man still standing. It hit the back of his skull with a crack.

The Wolf leapt on the kneeling man, forcing his face into the sharp rocks beneath the clear stream. Red trails flowed with the current and the man struggled. But the Wolf knelt on his back and this time nothing stopped him from snapping his prey's neck.

He whirled around and snarled with delight. Despite the blood dripping onto his neck, the other man was alive. It was Bastard #1, his eyes glazed and confused. The Wolf bowled into him, easily knocking the lighter man down to the floor.

Now it was one on one, he could take his time. He placed a knee on the mage's windpipe, silencing any magic he might try to summon, and then turned his attention to the hands.

Blue fire flickered at the fingertips, the pale blue light making the skin take the same hue. He started with the index, snapping each digit one by one. His prey gurgled and twitched beneath him, face growing paler and paler. The Wolf lifted his knee so he could hear the man’s cries of pain.

"I told you I would kill you," the Wolf growled and got off the man who rolled, clutching his broken hand to his chest. Golden light began to emanate and until the Wolf kicked him viciously in the side. The healing spell had stopped the bleeding and the mage’s eyes grew more focused.

The Wolf kicked him again but to his surprise the man managed to catch his foot with his unmangled hand. The contact did nothing to stop the blow but blue fire wove up his assailant’s leg, burning hot. Grunting, the Wolf took a step back.

His cold grey eyes narrowed and the mage desperately whispered a few words and vanished. The Wolf stood still and waited. The grass moved against the small breeze but he didn't move, pretending he saw nothing.

Taking a few steps parallel to the invisible man's moments, the Wolf continued to feign confusion. The mage hesitated, holding still from fear. In that moment, the Wolf calculated his position, grabbing his shoulder and kicking his knee to the side. This time the man's agonized yell echoed loud and untempered. He blinked back into view and the Wolf pulled him off the ground.

The injured man desperately pushed against his attacker's face with his hand, which glowed and the Wolf’s thoughts scrambled. The confusion wasn't enough to temper his bloodlust since his mind was already in shambles. Easily able to hold the man up with one hand, he wrapped the other around his throat.

The mage choked and tried one more trick. His hand crackled with lightning and he dug his fingers into the choking arm. The lightning danced and the Wolf spasmed, his grip opening and the mage fell to the floor.

The Wolf rode through the pain and when his twitching stopped, he was on his prey again before he could even stand. He crushed the offending sparking arm underfoot and knelt, pounding the mage's face with quickly bloodied knuckles. The man lost consciousness quickly but the Wolf kept going.

Skin split, an eye burst, and one of the Wolf's own fingers broke but exhilaration coursed through him. The smell of blood, the feeling of both his and the mage’s pain, it was intoxicating. When he realized the man's chest still rose in rattled breaths he laughed.

Dragging the near corpse over to the stream, the Wolf tossed him, letting the desperate organs struggle and fail as the four inches of red water filled his victim’s lungs.

The Wolf cleaned his knuckles upstream, the euphoria fading and the aches returning. He was about to stand and leave when a pulse of pain seared his forehead and he blacked out.

Fenrin awoke in the cage. For a half-lucid moment he felt despair before his vision went red as Niv appeared.

"Good hunt, my pet. You are impressive and I think I'll keep you around a while longer yet. But a hunting dog is what you are, let's make sure you know that."

She placed a slender finger on his forehead and his mind went blank.

"Hunt," she cooed and like a fire flickering to life, memories of tracking and killing the mages surged forward. The Wolf grinned with returning taste of the thrill. Who was next? Who would writhe under his hands?

"Heel." The word extinguished the thought and Fenrin’s world was silent and dark again.