-First night-
As soon as Raoul was gone, Iden began swearing mentally, all over again. He was pissed. Royally so.
:: Sonofabitch…rank ******** sonofabitch… :: His muzzle pulled back into a lupine snarl, and he growled in intense displeasure as he started looking about the ruin, more trying to sort his head out than actually gain any useful information. He had a pack of Garou that would hunt him at first sign that he was alone…though he wouldn’t be surprised if Raoul had tipped them off somehow. He had a pack of wild wolves he had to supposedly save, despite that he knew damn near nothing about how wolves worked, and even less about how he was supposed to save them. And finally, he was in a body he knew jack s**t about, and wasn’t even sure he could still tap some of his old abilities should he had need of them. The lack of thumbs alone was mind blowing.
:: Gaaaah! Goddammit! Think, Iden! THINK! ::
:: I’m ********’ WORKING ON IT! ::
:: WELL THINK FASTER! :: He slumped to the ground, resting his head between his paws as he pondered it out.
:: Come on, Iden. This ain’t so hard…it’s just like ferret recon. You can get along with no thumbs… right? :: The sounds of howling in the night brought his thoughts back to what he needed to be doing, though. Shortly, he was up, and making a rather comical scene of what a pacing wolf would look like.
:: Right. SHADDAP ALREADY! I’M ********’ COMING!.....damn ******** dogs… :: He bit off a mental sigh, and started trotting off. He’d need the chance to get used to moving around, and he’d need to scout out the area with all the unfamiliar nature of the now supercharged sense of scent he possessed.
In the end, though, he found himself returning to the ruins, and resting in the chamber with the dead men. He was tired, and as unsatisfying as the men’s corpses were, he was getting hungry. So, with great misgivings, Iden found himself asleep.
-Second Night-
Most of the day had been spent keeping to himself in the ruins, waiting for the point just before nightfall. When the time finally came, and Iden stirred, he emerged and took off in a slow trot for the treeline. As much as he didn’t want to, he was stuck with his orders.
Finding the pack Raoul had spoke of was not difficult. His senses confused him, specifically that he could smell damn near everything, but the wolf instincts that he inherited with the body knew what to look for. While he got the distinct notion that he was in for some hell, he followed the trail of scent markings across the pack’s territory.
The greeting was far less than friendly. Almost as soon as he knew they were there, he found himself to have one on each flank, and growls aplenty. While there was only five of them, there was still only one of him.
:: Aw s**t… :: His fur bristled, as he started glimpsing out of his peripheral vision what the odds were. It seemed that the omega was the one leading the effort to surround and threaten him, though he wasn’t sure if they were going to attack or not.
He never did get much chance to think on it, though, before the female on the right lunged for him, followed closely by the other on his left.
:: s**t!!! :: Instinct was his friend, as was paranoia. He scrambled back, taking only one of lunging wolves on. He felt a heavy weight on his back, and he threw himself to the side, rolling into a rough tumble that pitched the b***h off. Instantly he was on all fours again, his jaw clenched and his teeth bared.
:: DOWN PUPPY! ******** DOWN! :: In hindsight, his approach had been less than brilliant. However, by this point he was to engaged to withdraw. As soon as one was off, the others were around him again, and while they didn’t rush in immediately, they sure as hell weren’t friendly. He held his ground, but in the back of his head was the distinct uncertainty. Five on one odds, with them being more used to four legs than him? Damn right he was in trouble.
So he held his ground. It turned into a standoff, as he refused to give ground to the snarling pack.
Then the next push came. Iden, rather than just letting the wolves ******** him to death, darted straight forward, into the Omega.
Iden, in his wolf form, was a large creature. A canine in its prime, he had the advantage of both youth and mass at his back as he violently slammed into the elder wolf. Through the force of impact, Iden pushed, smashing the omega onto its side. He snarled at the creature as he stood over it, but he did not attack.
He felt the sudden impact of another wolf slamming into him. The stinging pain of the female’s bite didn’t reach his adrenaline-flooded mind, though. He still outmassed this wolf, and he was getting pissed off.
:: GET THE ******** OFF! BAD PUPPY! :: He bit, and using his powerful jaws and muscles he forced the wolf off of him. With the alpha female pinned beneath his snarling muzzle, he growled menacingly at the rest of the pack.
Standoff.
It lasted for what felt like an eternity. It was only a few minutes, however, before the wolves backed off, though they refused to act in submission. That was all Iden needed. He backed off of the female, and she withdrew to the rest of the pack, leaving an uneasy sense of truce in the air. Iden had proven he was more trouble than he was worth, especially to a crippled pack. Thus, they began to move, filing away from him, leaving him behind.
:: Wait. WAIT. GET YOUR b***h ASSES BACK HERE! :: :: Well you DID just tell them to GTFO… :: :: SHADDUP AND FOLLOW THEM. :: :: Aw hell…this won’t end well… :: :: Oi! You shaddup too! We’ve no need of commentary from planters and the peanut gallery! :: And with that, Iden began to match pace and trot along behind the pack, despite that he seemed to be treated as something disdainful.
The remainder of the night was spent at arm’s reach, so to speak. He couldn’t convince them to let him in close, but he wasn’t under immediate threat, so he continued onwards, despite the occaisional stinging pain from his gashed side. It wasn’t a lethal wound, so he was hardly concerned.
It was cold, sleeping alone, but his odds had improved a little, at least. It didn’t help the fitful rest, though.
Third night
Iden awoke to the sounds of stirring. As his ears perked, he noted that there was movement nearby.
It took him a few moments to realize he was about to be left behind by the pack. With a mental yelp of dismay, he was up and moving, trotting quietly behind the pack to catch up.
The first half of the day was blessedly uneventful. For the overwhelming majority, it was a simple matter of following as the pack cut a trail across their territory. However, Iden began to notice a lot of the ground they covered was spread in a small area. Several points along their travels, his canine senses could distinctly pick up on an encroaching scent, a foreign odor obscuring, if not outright erasing the now familiar markings of the former pack alpha. It seemed in the loss of the dominant male had impacted the pack’s ability to maintain their territory more than he’d anticipated. Raoul hadn’t been kidding when he’d said they were well on the way to dying out. It was a bit of a morbid realization, and Iden felt almost sympathetic. Almost. He was still livid at being morphed into a canine, and left to the woods for two weeks.
Dramatic revelation leading to a hero complex to save the pack? Hardly.
While the trek was uneventful, rather suddenly the pack seemed to begin moving differently. Quieter, more coordinated.
Then they began to sprint. Iden scrambled after the rest of the pack as they took off at exceptional speeds. His legs pounded, hurling him to speeds that made for the exhilarating feel of an adrenaline rush. As he ran, he began to catch the scent, something akin to a deer, perhaps? He couldn’t tell. He was preoccupied with the rush, the insane speed that his low slung frame was belting along the forested path. It was reminiscent of his driving, the manner in which he was moving at such breakneck velocities. Up ahead, he could see the other wolves chasing, snapping at the flank of the de…TREE!
As he blew past the tree, he could have sworn he was about to smash headlong into the wood. It was with such a lunatic’s agility that he had skirted to the side, just at the last moment. And so the chase continued. Now the scent of blood was reaching his nostrils, as teeth met flesh and the deer struggled to maintain its pace.
The next moment was a bit blurry in his mind, but at the same time, it was something he would likely not forget for some time. The deer stumbled, and the pack was on it in a heartbeat. Teeth snapped at the legs, hamstringing the creature. And then came Iden, running full tilt, last on the scene. He couldn’t stop now, not when he was still barreling ahead. So his legs coiled, and he sprang in a prodigious leap. He sailed through the air, and smashed into the side of the deer. They both tumbled, and while Iden landed on all fours, the deer was down, and its throat was torn away by the pack.
So Iden sauntered calmly to the kill, with intent to eat.
The pack didn’t take kindly to that, however. As soon as he was close, the alpha female placed herself between him and the kill. The ears were flattened, and the fur bristling as the she wolf snarled at him.
:: Aw ******** no, b***h. I’m too damn hungry for this s**t. :: He lowered his stance, though it was in no way submissive. He was getting pissed off with the manner in which the FNG was being treated, and he’d never taken kindly to that sort of abuse.
The two would remain at standoff, both poised for a fight. As they faced off, the rest of the pack circled them, watching intently at the struggle for dominance.
Eventually, the alpha huffed, and turned, leaving Iden standing there. A victory, perhaps, but he was still hungry. So as soon as the alpha took her share, he moved in to eat, ignoring the passively hostile manner in which the rest of the pack regarded him.
The remainder of the night was spent keeping his distance, though he was fairly certain that the rest of the pack was getting used to him. Either that, or they were plotting to kill him, the conniving bastards. He’d have to keep his eye on them, all of them…
Fourth night
Iden was the first of the pack up and moving the next day, and as he took the time to take a quick piss, he noted the howls of another pack, likely also stirring from the hours of rest. He huffed, as close to a sigh as a wolf could get, and sauntered back to the now stirring pack.
He’d gotten used to moving about, by this point, and was fairly confident in his abilities, even though he was (STILL) in a mental rage whenever he thought about it.
As for the business of the day, it was fairly similar to the previous. After three failed chases, the pack finally brought down a large enough meal to feed, and began trailblazing once more.
Things were going quietly for a good while so it came out of the blue when a furred mass popped out of nowhere and roughly bumped Iden. He didn’t stumble, but he spun, low on his haunches, looking for a foe.
Turned out, it was the Omega of the pack. Iden was no expert, but judging by the weird manner in which the critter’s tail was wagging, he almost suspected…
-whump-
There he went again. Iden paused, then dove for the offending party. The rest of the pack had ground to a halt, and was watching the “fight” intently.
Iden, on the other hand, was not amused.
:: Oh, is that it? Pickin’ on the new guy, huh? HUH?! GET YOUR a** BACK HERE! :: The omega had darted away adeptly, and soon the younger wolf was chasing the elder, in a rough and tumble game of tag, despite that Iden still hadn’t caught on that it was just that: a game.
:: Goddammit! Stop running ya punk! COME ON! :: With a flying leap, a hefty dose of luck, and a good fifteen minutes leading up to it, Iden finally bodytackled the elder wolf to the ground.
:: BOOYAH! WHOSE YO DADDY! :: The young and strong, versus the old and wily. Iden had the advantage of now having the omega on the ground, and he gave a bit of a snarl at the wolf, before he stood, and strutted his way away, feeling rather good about himself for quelling the uprising of the elderly. So much so, that he managed to ignore it when the rest of the pack picked up on the idea and started enjoying themselves while he sat off to the side.
He kept sitting there, until one of the pack broke off and trotted in his direction. His head lifted from the ground, and tilted to the side curiously. This curiosity was soon rewarded with a large furry body laying over his own. Then another, and another, until they were a literal dogpile. About halfway through, Iden realized what was going on, and began to squirm, but alas, it was too late. He was the underdog here, and for all the amusement value of the situation, he was still trying his damn best to get away.
:: No, no, NO GERROFFAMEYOUBASTARDSGAAAAAAAAAAH!!! :: It was the most productive time of nonproductive activity one could envision from a pack of wild wolves. In hindsight, perhaps, Iden would laugh at the whole affair. For now, he just wanted out of these goddamn woods. So, when the pack finally stopped for the night, Iden ticked off another night as he went to sleep.
Fifth night
The next night proved itself to be relatively uneventful. Iden hardly noticed anything worth his serious attention, just a few chases, nothing majorly out of the due norm for the pack he’d now started growing used to traveling with.
However, just because he didn’t notice didn’t mean things weren’t noteworthy. He hadn’t realized how he’d slowly gained something resembling acceptance in the pack. He was no longer tailing some distance behind the other wolves, but had a position within the body of the pack itself. All in all, he’d been adopted. Hell, he was, it seemed, a little more esteemed than the omega, though that was because the omega was, by definition, the lowest in the pack. With a second male present, the pack’s joker, beating dummy, and all around utility wolf had taken his position at the rear once again.
So they travelled, and brushed up across the side of the mountain. Reclaiming a bit of turf here, chasing a couple of deer there, and all in all being wolves in the mountains. It was reasonably exciting, though by this point the novelty had begun to wear off, leaving Iden’s personal feelings on the matter as just a sore spot, not an open rage.
Sixth night
It was on the sixth night that Iden woke to find himself almost muzzle to muzzle with another wolf. His nose told him it wasn’t from another pack, so he only lazily cracked his eyes open, finding his blue orbs meeting with the golden eyes of the alpha female.
:: The ******** do you want, b***h? :: Of course, the wolf couldn’t understand him, even if he had “spoken” it aloud. He tilted his head to the side, curious as to the intentions of the she-leader of the pack. Now that he’d thought about it, beyond the one fight over feeding rights, he hadn’t seen much of this wolf in particular. She’d been keeping her distance from the rest of his pack, which struck Iden as unusual.
The female wolf just kept staring, and it began to creep Iden out. So he let his eyes drift shut, and tried to feign sleep for a few minutes more, before the shuffling of paws and the like forced him to get up and start moving.
The day started slow, as usual, as the pack began to move. The omega was taking a few shots at one of the other females, leaving Iden near the front of the formation, almost directly behind the alpha.
The path they took crossed several scent trails of fresh prey, so the pack veered off to the east in pursuit. Silently they stalked along, until the slow munching meatbags they planned to have for dinner were in view. Iden was no wildlife specialist, and by this point in time, he’d stopped identifying creatures by their human given names. He knew the plodding mammal in front of him was tasty, and quite filling.
There was a problem, though. Just as the pack began to move in, the animal took off in a sprint, with more wolves chasing it. More wolves, infringing upon the pack’s territory. So what was a wolf to do, other than to go charging headlong after them?
The prey fell, and the other pack was about to turn when Iden’s flying figure, which had pulled to the lead of his pack, smashed into the violating wolves with a furious scramble of fang and fur. Blood flowed, and the familiar taste filled Iden’s muzzle as he rolled forwards off the crippled canine and kept going.
By this point, the battle was joined. The enemy pack was larger in numbers than Iden’s, and they knew it. Multiple wolves attacked one another, in an insane roiling mess of blood and growling figures. Iden himself went straight for the lead wolf, the Alpha male. He figure, hell, why not? He found himself in a two on one situation, though, between the alpha and its mate.
So Iden held his ground, as the enemy circled, looking to flank him. He was waiting for it, the right moment…
It came upon him almost like a thunderbolt. It was the twitch factor that, as a man, had saved him countless times. His reflex kicked in just as the wolves lunged. He dove straight for the female, and sprang OVER her, to land at her back. With the two skidding just short of a collision, Iden slammed brutally into the female’s hindquarters and tore a piece of her flank with his teeth. His momentum kept him moving, until he and the male were rolling in the dirt, each trying to rip at the other’s throat with their fangs. Iden was young and strong, but so was this wolf. Worse still, this wolf was a true wolf, whereas Iden was operating on improvisation of the highest regard. He found himself in a fight he was slowly losing, as each maneuver left him only barely uninjured. Streaks of red ran down his sides from where near misses had bloody jaws running through his fur, and he found himself only with mouthfuls of fur and dirt.
One of the other wolves from the enemy pack tried to interfere, throwing itself at the fray. Iden rolled at just the moment, and the resulting tumult of flesh and fang had the pack alpha off balance for just the barest of moments. Iden recovered only a fraction of a second faster, but it was enough an advantage to take a piece of the front leg of the alpha male. With a loud howl of pain, the other wolf tried to pull back, but Iden was having none of it. He lunged forwards, and tore frantically at the opposing wolf, forcing his way past the other that had interfered.
The end of the fight saw Iden’s pack victorious as the others fled. Iden himself was unharmed, though there were wounds across some of the lesser females of the pack. The omega was uninjured as well, through means Iden never did find out. Elder’s cunning, he chalked it up to.
When it came to eating the fresh kill, none of the pack objected to Iden taking his place at the front of the line. And when they were done, Iden took the most massive dump he’d experienced since he’d been sired around the area, sealing the place as HIS. He was tired, bloody, and while the adrenaline rush had been glorious, he’d not liked the fact that he’d been so close to death.
Seventh Night
After the previous night’s excitement, he found himself at the front of the pack, almost as if he’d been unanimously voted for a promotion. He didn’t object, and even went so far as to enjoy himself when he started keeping a closer eye on the surrounding wilderness. It didn’t dull the slow burning rage at his predicament, which had yet to leave the back of his mind, but at the very least he wasn’t on the verge of exploding.
The evening and most of the night went as slow as one would expect. More than once he found himself almost alone with the alpha female, as they pushed forwards a little further than the rest of the pack. All was quiet, relatively speaking. No prey was gained from the day, but as they’d gorged themselves the day before, it was hardly an issue. Iden was slightly surprised, however, at just how fond the alpha female seemed to be. It was almost disturbing.
Eighth night
If anything, Iden began to note just how much distance he was spending away from the main body of the pack. It was bizarre, given the dynamic of the group as a whole. But it seemed they were making good progress in ensuring that the territory the pack had was not lost, and prey was not too hard to find. A couple of kills ensured that the whole pack was well fed. Nothing too exciting, given the past week.
Ninth night
As the pack arose from their rest and began to move, once again Iden awoke to a pair of golden eyes peering at him.
:: Oh for ******** sake… :: He sighed as he got up, and as the pack began to move, he started his four legged trot along the direction they’d taken to traveling of late.
He turned, though, to notice only one wolf actually had followed him. And it was the female.
:: The hell do you want? :: He tilted his head to the side as the female brushed almost affectionately against him. He blinked, making for a comical scene of confusion.
:: The s**t…? :: The stirring in his canine loins, brought on by the scent of a female in heat, eventually had the realization dawn on him. He blinked, then started shaking his head.
:: Oh HELL no. NO. ******** YOU. :: The problem was, he had his orders, and he had just come to the very painful realization as to what they meant. Worse still, he was a living, breathing wolf, and was not above the base instincts of a wolf. Until this point, they’d agreed with his sensibilities of what he needed to do, but now?
:: Aw no. NO. NO YIFFING. OH DEAR YE GODS, NO YIFFING!!! :: :: Holy s**t, this is awkward. Well…duty calls… :: :: Aw ******** off! This is ******** WRONG! :: :: Ewwie puppy love! Eheeehahahahaaa!!! :: :: Oh SHUT the hell up, both of you! :: :: Just do it, and think of Bella… :: :: Oh, that’s LOVELY advice. Thanks a shitload, guys… :: Now, he mounted up, so to speak, swearing all the while. He cursed Raoul, he cursed himself, and most of all, he swore that this was never going to be mentioned, ever. What happens in Romania, STAYS in Romania.
When they were done, a good half hour later, Iden kept to himself at the front of the pack, keeping very detatched. He was NOT pleased. The prey they killed tasted horrid, and his sleep was unpleasant. The wolf in him was content, though.
Tenth night
Iden awoke once more to the pressing of a female muzzle against his ribs.
:: Goddammit, don’t you give up? :: The b***h wanted sex, and he was obliged to give it. He didn’t like it, and he didn’t want it, but he gave it anyways. He swore, once again, through the whole thing, but he did it.
Later that day, a familiar scent crossed their path. Iden knew he knew it, but he didn’t know from where. It smelled like another wolf. He almost suspected one of the other pack, but they’d all but trounced them the last time they’d run into them…
With a few misgivings, Iden kept pace, as they looked for a good hunt.
Eleventh night
After the morning sex, Iden was still in an incredibly bad mood. A mood made worse hardly a few hours later.
As the pack was following the scent of this offending wolf, to facilitate chasing them out of their territory, the canine stumbled upon them. Iden and the interloper found themselves nearly face to face. And when he saw it….
:: YOU!!! :: Ramon turned, and growled out what would be the canine equivalent statement. There was a momentary pause as the two looked at each other, then Ramon turned and sprinted away. Iden swore, knowing Raoul had warned him of how persistent the garou would be in their pursuit once he was found. Without a moments hesitation, he took off to give chase, with his pack at his back. They sprinted, and Ramon was easily a match for their pace. Swearing violently, Iden realized just how futile this was. They were nearing the limits of their territory, and Iden was sure there were other garou within their lands keeping an eye out for them. The fact that they weren’t all together meant they must not have caught his scent until he’d already spread it along the main core of the pack’s turf, so they had a lot of ground to cover. A pity his luck had to run out now.
The howls of Ramon up ahead bode ill. Iden turned, and began running deeper into their territory. He needed to buy time, and looping around his home ground was the best way to do so.
It was a tense period, where the howls of the other pack echoed through the night. But the chase, as it were, ended with Iden’s pack in a haven amidst the trees, one they’d used before. While the pack slept, Iden kept watch for a little while longer, through the tense, but blessedly uneventful night.
Twelfth night
At the earliest possible time, Iden’s pack was up and running. He had a specific destination in mind, and he was taking no chances in waiting around. He rallied the pack, and they kept at a fast pace the whole night, running. They were making good time, though he could hear hints of the other pack rallying behind them. It was something of a race, and Iden refused to lose.
Unlike his last race to the ruins, Iden was every bit the Garou’s equal in his dash for cover. He needn’t fear reaching the place, and by this time, the wolves of his pack acknowledged him as the leader of the pack.
The ruin hadn’t changed in the slightest since he’d left. So when he rushed for the open door, he found just what he was after: The hunter’s fallen guns.
How he was going to use them? He had at least an hour to figure that much out, probably more. The sounds of the Garou pack were still distant, or at least enough for some breathing space.
With the strap in his teeth, he tore the first of the rifles from the ground and started running. The other wolves milled around, confused, as he started digging a hole. After a few moments, he turned, and barked at the pack. Taking his lead, one of them rushed to his side, and started digging as well. Then another, until they were all digging furiously.
Once the hole was deep enough, Iden barked once more, and then started manipulating the gun. There was a bullet chambered, thankfully, but it was tricky trying to work the strap like he needed. Threading it delicately for a full ten minutes, he worked the strap into the trigger guard, and pulled it through, until it was all the way through. He then set the gun in the hole, and filled it back, ensuring the strap was hidden, but chompable.
They’d used a fair amount of time. The howls were drawing nearer, and Iden was getting more than a little worried. He’d recalled eight, in the Garous pack. That was more than Iden’s pack had, by a full two. That meant he’d need his trick, but if he ******** it up in the slightest…
He was waiting, with his pack behind him, when the Garou stepped into the ruins. It didn’t look good, as a full pack of large, well organized hounds stepped into the clear. It was almost like a scene out of a movie, where the rival gangs would make their taunts before the fight began.
:: Well wassup Ramon. Fancy meeting you here. :: The Garou snarled, and in turn, so did the entirety of both packs. Iden was the only one maintaining his composure.
:: So, fancy take two? Look, I’m even gonna give you guys a handicap. I’ll fight you at your own game, if you’re so pissed off. :: His leering tone was there, and he chuckled softly as they took the bait. With him violating their chosen form as he was, it was expected that their rage would push them to attack. He stood steadfast, waiting, waiting…..
As Ramon leaped for his throat, Iden bodily threw himself back. As he did, his jaw ducked, and snagged the strap that had been placed in the dirt, and as his body moved back, the cord was pulled.
The thunderclap of the rifle stunned a good deal of the creatures present. Iden himself was moderately deafened, and he shied away from the big bang. The rest of the packs, which had been rushing to fight, all took steps away as Ramon was bodily flung backwards, out of the air. The scent of blood thickened the air, and Iden chuckled once more.
:: Alright kids, listen up. You take Ramon here, and beat it. Leave me in peace, and I’ll be much obliged to return the favor…otherwise… :: Iden stepped over the wounded wolf, which had taken the heavy rifle round full on. If not for the fact that he’d been in full animal form, the bullet wouldn’t have done that much harm. But now Iden stood over him, and had his fangs around his throat.
:: I could kill your beloved packmate, and then I’ld be more than content to fight it out and see who’s left. :: Ramon twitched, and Iden’s muzzle tightened like a vice around the primary arteries. Ramon may be bigger, but Iden had him where he couldn’t move without being ripped open.
:: Don’t do it, punk. I don’t want to hurt you. :: Ramon growled, but couldn’t resist. Not with Iden’s paw in/on the wound, and his jaws on his neck.
It was a nasty stalemate. The Garou were pissed in the extreme, but the pack mindset was a close knit one. Iden had their need to kill caught against their desire to save their brethren.
“You’re going to die, Cainite. There’s no escaping it.”
The voice came from the pack alpha, whom was approaching Iden slowly. Iden seemed nonplussed.
:: Aye, I’ve got it coming, but not now, and not from you. I’ve too many promises to keep. Now….do we have a deal, or do I have to start off a bloodbath that nobody wants? I’m not here to kill anyone, mate. And I trust you to your word, when you give it. So make the call. :: Another painfully long several seconds passed, where none of the wolves moved. Iden’s pack was all growling, ready to leap to the defense of their newfound Alpha. The Garou all were keeping their distance, apart from their alpha.
“You live tonight. No longer than.”
Iden released his muzzle, and pulled his paw from the wound. A quick step back, and Ramon was limping onto his feet. He gave Iden the most hateful glance the wolven face is capable of, and limped away growling.
From there, the night was uneventful. The buried gun was a lost cause, just because cycling the bolt was beyond the canine physique, but there were others…Iden slipped the sling of one over his shoulder, and forced the sling from another to tear, and then looped it around the trigger. It took all day, getting it to work, but he was self satisfied in his abilities to use the thing. It would be a one shot affair, but…better than nothing.
Night thirteen
He awoke, to find himself once again pitted with an amorous canine wanting his full attention. He huffed a canine sigh, and mounted up. After the ritual yiffing, with the equally ritual string of profanities and resolutions to never let this matter go public, he led the pack. They took off into the forest, making a beeline for the pack’s territory.
As Iden reached the edge of the ruin, and peered out over the mountainside, he felt himself grow a little more in touch with the area around him. He’d been ignoring it, mostly, the strange intuition he’d been getting. Raoul had taught him something, but it was in the background, and Iden had been more worried with matters of survival. But now? With him looking over the forest, he felt a bit closer to what he was after.
The dramatic moment, ended, though, with the steadfast realization that he was going to die if he lingered. Not wanting to snuff it just a mere day before his ticket home arrived, he took off into a run, leading the pack with him down the mountainside. He was only going at a moderate pace, suitable for the distance they were crossing. Trees blurred by as he darted from path to path, following none of the previous trails. They rushed headlong into the forest.
It was not long before Iden could sense the pursuit of the Garou pack. True to his word, the alpha was chasing them…no, him, with a vengeance. It was the chase of a lifetime, and the adrenaline rush as he found himself pushing further and further was glorious. He had no idea where they were going, but he knew that all they needed was to run a little further, just a little longer…and they’d be safe.
Then they broke through the trees, and were at the edge of the lake. A few deer, sipping calmly, took off, and the pack pursued. Iden had his course planned, though, he headed the rear animal off and took the kill. The pack fed well, and then the run continued, outside the pack territory.
It was a bit of a gamble, but when the howls of the other pack echoed, he smiled to himself. The Garou knew his ploy, and would lose time either plowing through, or going around. That gave Iden all the chance he needed to gain those precious extra meters, even miles, of distance. It gave him the chance to let his pack rest at the lakeside, while he stood off to the side, peering over the water.
:: Found the nearest lake, Raoul. Now when are you gonna show up, asswipe? :: He peered over the water, then, after the several minutes, he offered a gruff barking howl at the pack, to rally them. They answered his call, and they moved out as one. He was not leading, persay, but simply nudging the direction along. They were doubling back, and using their well bought time to their utmost advantage. He needn’t fear the rival pack closing, they wouldn’t catch up. As for the Garou, he’d evaded a fight for the day, and even Garou needed to stop to rest. So as the pack hunkered down for their sleep, Iden lay, curled against his pack. Sure, he was pissed off, but sleeping alone sucked a** as a wolf.
Final night
After awakening, and following the reproductive ritual, complete with curses, vows, and the whole nine yards, the pack up and departed. Iden was with them, and they moved like only a pack of wolves could. In tune with one another, fluid, and at one with their turf. Now it was a bit of a race to see who could get to them first, Raoul, or the Garou. Iden didn’t fancy his luck trying that same move again, and the gun he had slung would only provide one shot before it became a burden, not a ******** FINALLY up...you damn well better appreciate it, Roan))
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