The Wolf With No Name

Chapter 3: The Prince

I asked a few of the men, who called themselves knights, if they could spare some food. I didn't even have to offer anything, they just gave it to us. I'm not used to getting something without giving something in return. I felt bad taking their food, and a bit suspicious. I sniffed the food to make sure it wasn't drugged. I didn't like being drugged. My master may have made me do some horrible things, but I'd rather know what I've done, and what's been done to me, than wake up confused after the effects wear off.

"It's fine, Wolf," Bear muttered when he noticed my hesitation, "They're trying to be nice."

"Why?" I asked. Bear was the only one who's ever been actually nice to me, but I sort of understood his reason. I didn't know these men.

"Because they feel bad."

"Why?"

"Just eat the damn bread," growled Bear, already chewing on his own bread and grunting in approval.

So I did. It was incredible. I didn't know food could actually taste good. It crunched in my mouth and had a hint of sweetness that almost tasted like apple. I moaned at the heaven in my mouth.

One of the knights huffed a laugh from my reaction. Bear's growl quickly shut him up, but I just shrugged.

"What? It's good food," I said, taking another bite.

"It's just bread," said the knight, "It's not even that good."

"It's better than what they serve here," I said, tapping my foot on the ground. It was quite remarkable to think that only a few hours ago, I was trapped in the hill underneath my feet. I didn't even know it was possible for life to change this quickly, yet here I am. The knights gave me a smile of pity. I didn't like that.

"Come on, Bear," I said, taking his arm and dragging him away from the food wagon.

I heard the Prince Jax announce that they would be spending the night here, and riding home tomorrow at first light. All together, there were 30 men, 25 horses, and one cart. The knights were making camp on top of the Pit. They had decided to store their horses in the Pit stables at the base of the hill, but had decided against sleeping in the Pit itself.

I saw a few other newly freed werebeasts wandering around the hill. Bear and I were the only two fighters our master owned, so I didn't really know the other outside the ring. But they knew us. Bear was known for his temper, and I was known for my ruthlessness. As such, they all stayed away from us as we walked around the newly forming camp.

Bear finished stuffing his bread in his mouth, and was now yawning. "Tired, Bear?" I asked, slowing my pace. I know he is. He never slept the night before our fight. I'm sure the strength he had gotten from the excitement of fight and freedom was starting to fade.

"I'm fine," he grumbled. I shook my head, and put my hand on his shoulder.

"Sleep," I said, "Or at least take a nap. You need it." He gave me a pained look and his gaze dropped to his feet.

"I... I don't want to sleep," he admitted, "I know it's silly, but I'm scared. I'm scared of falling asleep and finding myself back." I sighed. I sat down in the soft grass, and patted the ground next to me. He sat down next to me. I lean him over so his head his resting in my lap.

"You're never going back," I said, running my hands through his wild brown hair, "Never again." He let out a sigh. I always admired Bear for clinging to his emotions. Years of being beaten and whipped have left him weak, but not broken. Nothing could break my Bear. My hand trace the scar that ran from his cheek to his ear. Bear's face used to be quite handsome, before the scars, broken noses, and permanent scowl left it disfigured. But, in my eyes, he would always be beautiful. So what if he was scarred, both inside and out? He was my Bear.