The Wolf With No Name

Chapter 2: No Name

I don't know how long we stood there, but our time came to an end when someone clear their throat behind us. I pulled away from Bear, and we turned around to see the silver haired man standing there, looking quite uncomfortable.

"Sorry to break up... whatever this is," he gestured to the two of us, "But, well... I have some questions, and the others we freed aren't really in a talking mood. Besides a few cuts and bruises, you two seem like the only ones who'll actually talk to us so...." He trailed off.

"So ask your question," I said, "I will do my best to answer." I rested my chin on Bear's head and wrapped my arms around him again. He was easily angered, and if I held him like this, I could keep him calm during the questioning. Or at the very least, knock him out if he got too upset.

The silver haired man seemed quite relieved at my response, even if he did give me a strange glance as I wrapped my arms around Bear.

He asked me a series of questions that were easy to answer. What did they make us do here? Fight. Who was our master? A man named Douglass Hunter. Who were the other masters? I named all the ones I remembered. Where there any other places like this? I don't know, but probably not. What were we here? Fighters. His eyebrows rose at that answer.

"All the other fighters are really badly hurt," he said, "Why aren't you?"

"Because we win," I said simply, "We are the victors of the Pit." He frowned at that statement.

"I thought you fought each other," he said, "How can you both be victors?" Bear shuffled underneath my head. I hug him tighter.

"We did," I said, "Three times. I've got two wins, he won last year. We didn't finish our fight this time." That surprised the silver haired man.

"How long have you been down there?" he asked in amazement. I tilted my head to one side, puzzled by his expression.

"All my life," I said, "Bear's been here for eleven."

"Oh," he said. This seemed to trouble him. He paused for a moment, thinking.

"Well, I know it's a hard question right now, but do you know where you're going to go?" he finally asked. Bear shifted under me again. This time, he was the one to answer.

"She's got no family, and mine's dead," he said. I could hear a slight growl in his voice. "We'll figure something out, but for now, no, I don't know where we're going." The silver haired man nodded, as if expecting the answer.

"If you wish, you could come back home with us," he said, "My kingdom is a place where our kind live in peace. You won't be hunted or enslaved there. I will be making the offer to the other werebeasts as well." Well, it seemed like a good offer. I would rather hunt than be hunted, and I wasn't going to get a new master. But I did not know this man, and he did say something that confused me.

"Our kind?" I asked tilting my head to one side, "You're a werebeast?" He nodded.

"Show me," I said. His cheeks turned a bright red and he turned his head away. That was odd.

"Does it hurt when you transform?" I asked. It seemed like a logical explanation, but he shook his head.

"It's not that, it just... personal," he said, "You don't just change in front of people. It's not... proper." I don't understand.

"It's like the thing with clothes," Bear explained. Ah. Bear had told me that people felt uncomfortable when naked, or when seeing other people naked. When I asked him why, he said being naked made people feel exposed, but he couldn't really explain why seeing other people naked made them feel uncomfortable. It just did.

"Okay," I said. I know a lot of things, I just don't always understand the reasoning behind them. I thought it was silly that the silver haired man was embarrassed by his transformation. But if it made him uncomfortable, I wasn't going to push. Not right now anyway.

"About my offer..."

"We'll think about it," I said, cutting him off, "There is much I need to discuss with Bear. I thank you for your offer." He nodded, and was about to turn away when he thought of something.

"Sorry, I never even caught your name," he said with an awkward smile.

"I didn't catch yours either," I replied. His smile changed from awkward to friendly.

"Prince Jax of the Fallen Claws," he said with a bow. I was confused. Bear was kind enough to explain.

"Jax is his name, Fallen Claws is his clan name, Prince is his position. I'm Bear." That last sentence was directed towards the prince. Jax smiled politely, and looked at me for a while.

"What?" I finally asked.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" he asked.

"I am a wolf, and a wolf has no name," I said simply. That statement caught him by surprise.

"You don't have a name?" he asked, his eyebrows raised so high they almost vanished into his hair, "Then, what do people call you?"

"Master called me Bitch," I said, "Bear calls me Wolf, the other fighters call me Victor, the other masters called me White Haired Witch. Call me what you want. I am a wolf, and a wolf has no name." He gave me a look that I had only ever seen on Bear's face. Pity, and a slight mix of anger. I didn't feel comfortable with that expression on a stranger's face.

"What?" I asked again. Bear only looked at me like then when something was wrong with me. I didn't like the thought that something was wrong with me.

"Wolves do have names," he said, "A name is important. You can't just not have a name."

"I am a wolf, and a wolf has no name."

"Stop saying that!" he snapped. I jumped a little bit at the sudden hostility, and Bear growled in my defense. Jax took a step back, holding up his hands in surrender.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think it's right," he said, "Everyone deserves a name. A name is who you are."

"I do not need a name to know who I am," I said. He growled in frustration. Why was he getting angry?

"So when someone says Bitch, you answer?" he asked.

"No, when master yells 'Bitch,' I answer," I said. Bear nudged me with his elbow. "I used to answer," I corrected.

"Bear has a name," he countered. A poor argument.

"I am not Bear," I said, "I am a wolf, and a wolf has no name." Jax rubbed his temples, as if I was giving him a head ache. I felt a bit bad for making him upset. I know it's my fault he's angry, but I just don't understand why he's angry. Was it so wrong for me not to have a name?

"I give up," he said, "Just, think about my offer? I'm going to be over there." He gestured vaguely at his group of men, and walked away. I sighed.

"I don't like him," grumbled Bear. I couldn't help but laugh.

"You don't like anyone," I said, playing with his hair, "Whether you like his character or not, he did free us."

"I don't like owing him either," Bear growled.

"It's okay Bear," I soothed, "You owe him, but he doesn't own you. I don't trust him, but he doesn't seem that bad. A bit awkward and rough around the edges, but he's either really bad at hiding his emotion, or really good at faking them. My money's on the first."

"You don't have money," grumbled Bear.

"Fine, my dinner's on the first."

"We don't have that either."

"Glad you noticed," I said, "Let's go find something to eat." He chuckled and I smiled. Bear rarely laughed. He must be in a really good mood. Then again, who wouldn't be? Whatever happens, I want Bear to be happy.

And if there really is a place where our kind belonged, I want us to go there.