Vincent Albright was at the top of his game. He had achieved fame, fortune, and the love and adoration of thousands through his artwork. After a falling out, however, he sought haven on Charlie's Isle, a small, low populated island off the coast of...
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We traced our own scent trail back to the clearing where we had originally found the deer. The scent of blood was still there, barely noticeable even to a keen Werecat nose.
It's north, I said as I traced yet another circle with my snout high in the air, Up the mountain.
By the time we get up there it'll be morning, Ivy said as we both turned to face the mountain. Mt. Thatcher wasn't too steep, but the walk up was a tough one. The forest floor gets progressively more rocky until it turns into the snow covered peak.
I looked to the sky. It was still dark and the moon still glowed, but the eastern sky was beginning to show the barest hints of blue. I think we can make it, I responded. Normally I was the one finding 'problems' in Ivy's adventurous plans, but the tides had turned for tonight.
And so the running continued. We didn't talk much. When we did it was only to voice a change in the direction the scent was coming from. We were still too far out to determine what kind of animal had shed the blood.
A half hour passed. Then another. We had switched to treetops again because the ground was too rocky. Finally I lifted my nose again and stopped in the next tree.
Is it more than one animal? Ivy asked after taking a sniff herself.
I... I think so. It's hard to tell, I said. Whatever it was had a sweet scent as well as the irony scent of mammal blood.
Hey, what's that? Ivy asked. Before I had time to respond she had already fallen from the tree and landed on a sturdy boulder.
I climbed down next. You know, you need to start thinking before you just- My thought was stopped dead in its tracks. We were side by side now, and had stumbled upon a gruesome scene.
Three wolves, all male and adult, lay dead in a pile. They were gray like thunderstorm clouds, but their once beautiful coats had been caked by dried blood. Only one's face was visible and its eyes lay open and dead, staring at us.
Each one's jugulars had been crushed and the stomachs had been slashed by a much larger animal. Blood still oozed from the corpses and was creeping towards our front paws.
The part that made my stomach sick was the black liquid that was splattered on nearby trees and mixed in with the burgundy blood of the wolves. That's what the sweet scent was. My stomach sank.
Werecat blood, I breathed, seemingly unable to raise my voice to a normal level.
A Were did this? Ivy asked in disbelief as she circled the horrible scene, Holy hell. Vin, come over here.
