Greg looked at the posters on the wall in the other bedroom. Trailing his finger on the star wars memorabilia, he walked towards the bed side table. He picked up one of the frames and looked at the boy in the picture. He was smiling, a medal hanging around his neck and what looked like a school, behind him.

He put the picture down and turned for the wardrobe. Opening it, he pulled out a pair of cargo pants and held it against himself, checking the size. Satisfied that he could slip into them, he pulled out a long sleeve shirt and went into the bathroom.

In the living room, Freya was sitting on the carpet, looking through the collection of records that she had found on a table next to the TV. She pushed her wet hair and tucked it behind her ear.

She was about to get up when she heard a crash from the kitchen. For a moment, she froze but finally pushed herself to go and see what it was. With her back against the wall, she looked into the kitchen to see Greg looking back at her sheepishly from near the sink.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I dropped the glass."

She shook her head, "It's okay, you just scared me."

Freya turned back into the corridor when she looked up at the door and a shadowy figure outside. Her eyes widened and looked at the lock, relieved that it was locked.

The figure knocked and Freya found herself crouching out of sight. "Hey," the figure called out.

She recognised the voice and stood up, slowly.

"Tristan?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Greg walked out of the kitchen and looked at Freya, signaling her to not open the door.

"How did you find us?"

"It wasn't hard, really."

"What do you want?"

"Just wanted to see how you were doing," he said. "I brought food."

Freya walked to the door and leaned against it, looking through the hole. "We don't need it, thanks."

Tristan sighed, "Come on, open the door. I just thought you could use the supplies, okay? Let me put them in the kitchen and I'll leave if you want me gone."

Freya looked back at Greg who was shaking his, furiously. "Don't open it," he hissed.

She looked back at the door and sighed, "I can't, Tristan. Just leave us alone, please. It's nothing personal."

"Fine," he said and Freya watched him walk away with the bags.

Freya turned around and shrugged at Greg who looked slightly relieved. However, the peace didn't last long because seconds later, a huge crash echoed from the living room and into the rest of the house.

Freya screamed and ran to the door to see what had happened. Her eyes found a brick on the carpet among pieces of broken glass.

She looked back at the broken window and terror struck through her as a huge wolf jumped into the living room, shaking the floor as it landed.

Freya yelled at Greg who began running upstairs.

The pair ran into one of the bedrooms and slammed the door shut. Greg locked it while Freya began to pile things in front of the door. "They'll get inside," Greg said, miserably.

Freya looked at the window after having pushed the table in front of the door. She opened it and looked down. "Greg, I need you to start climbing that pipe. We need to get out of here."

Greg was about to reply when Freya yelled at him, " We don't have time!"

Greg climbed out of the window and latched on to the large black pipe that ran across the wall. Slowly but swiftly, Greg managed to get down to the garden so Freya sat on the pane, throwing her leg on the other side.

She glanced down when she saw wolves emerge from the house and begin to surround Greg. Greg looked up at his sister with panic in his eyes.

"Run!" she yelled at him, knowing that there was no way both of them would ever make it out.

Greg's heart was pumping at a dangerous rate. He wouldn't leave his sister with them without a fight. His palms grew sweaty and he could feel his wolf take over. He transitioned, his clothes falling to shreds on the grass as he did.

"No, Greg!" she yelled, her voice breaking as she saw her brother prepare to fight.

He rubbed his paw on the grass before jumping at one of the wolves who was much larger and stronger than him. Freya was yelling and wasn't sure when the screams turned into cries as she latched herself on to the pipe.

"Let him go!" she yelled with a force that threatened to slice her vocal cords.

She saw Tristan emerge from inside and he looked at Freya. His expressions were masked by lack of emotion as he looked at her. "Come down, Freya. Don't make me ask again."

Freya looked at Greg who had been pushed on to the ground and his head was under someone's paw. He looked helpless and Freya continued to cry in fear.

"What the hell do you want from us?" Freya yelled.

"You and I are going for a little ride," Tristan said. "Come on down."

"Let Greg go, you bloody psychopath."

Tristan kept his eyes on her and held his hand up, signalling the others to release Greg.

"I've let him go, come down now," Tristan said.

"I'm coming," Freya said.

Greg glared at the back of Tristan's head, "What is wrong with you?" he growled.

Tristan glanced at him, "This could've been avoided if you'd just let us in."

Greg scowled.

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