The Hunted

One

Red

For the third time in two months, the outer perimeter had been breached. The threat was getting bolder, attempting the crossing in the early morning when the outer perimeter patrol was most active, but still, not a single one of the perpetrators had been caught.

It was that fact alone that drove Red mad with irritation.  The pack was growing uneasy and it was his job to keep them safe.  A hardship when he didn't even know what was punching holes - like the one he was currently looking towards - in the wall that surrounded the Sanguis Ridge Pack. Though perhaps 'wall' was inaccurate. It wasn't exactly a physical entity. Not built from cement or stone. Instead, it was more like a dome of energy, a pulsing, living thing that was used to separate pack territories from the humans whose settlements grew ever closer with each passing year.

The wall had its origins in the Old Magic of the Fae and was generations old. A mercy that the Fae had been willing to share their power to create such a barrier when the werewolf trials that began running rampant in the fifteenth century. Now, that magic still held and protected packs from the outside world and those that would harm them. While humans were, as always, a concern, the wall now typically kept out more prominent threats like bands of rogues or irate vampires.

There were exceptions, of course, surrounding who could enter pack territory. Technically, the Alpha that reigned over each pack could grant entry to the territory, if desired. Alphas were the protectors, lawmakers, leaders. Necessary for a pack's survival.

Red thanked his lucky stars that he wasn't one of the poor bastards responsible for having that kind of weight on his shoulders. He carried enough of a burden as it was being the pack's fourth in command.  The bureaucratic nonsense that would have come from being an Alpha was thankfully not a part of his job description.

Luckily too because he already had enough on his plate dealing with whatever being was punching holes through the hall. It had been and would continue to be a headache that he had to deal with. Especially because he was most definitely going to be one of the unlucky fools who would have to track the damned thing down.

Red lowered the wards in his mind, welcoming the hum of dozens of conversations that his packmates were having. He filtered through them, searching for the minds that he wanted and ignoring the rest.

We've got a problem here, he sent the thought down the link. He felt the grim acknowledgement as the message was received.

My office. Ten minutes.

On my way.

Red took another long look at the hole and filtered through the link again. He called for reinforcements for the perimeter wall and then set off at a lope through the early summer forest. Spring had finally faded, giving way to soft summer flowers and grasses. The leaves in the trees had all regrown after the winter, filling the canopy above with hues of green.

This forest, set in the heart of the Arapaho and Roosevelt National Forests, was as familiar to him as the back of his own hand. He'd been traversing it since childhood and there wasn't a spot in this territory he hadn't come across. Red had loved the woods, any woods, since before he was old enough to walk. It had only increased after his first Shift.

Everyone remembered their first Shift differently. For some, it was all pain, the memory of breaking bones and a body morphing into an unfamiliar position. Others remembered it in fear, Shifting alone in the darkness of the woods, nothing but pure terror to keep them company. Most were fortunate enough to have family present when they Shifted, people who helped them through the change.