An enslaved pack ruled by a merciless dictator. A pack of assassins out for blood and revenge.
A lone wolf who can't find his place among any of it.
Through betrayal, binding pacts, and revolutionary acts, with more shadows looming between the tree...
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A single glass of water stood on the floor, perfectly out of reach where Sonya had left it hours ago. While he watched it, Jrasic had no desire for it. After they stopped the wolfsbane method, he went strangely without thirst and often hunger. He wasn't sure what that meant.
He watched the small puddle around the glass base that had gathered from when it was cold. It was better than staring at the blank walls, or bloody floors, or tools waiting to cut into his body again. So he remained leaning against the wall, unable to move anyway.
His leg was beyond agony to a point where he often forgot it was still even attached to his body. The collar around his neck pricked his skin from behind and constantly reopened wounds that desperately tried to heal.
Of it all, there was one good thing. When Jason came to see him the morning after the moon, he had smelled of Terra. Of course, Jrasic didn't ask and the Healer didn't share, but somehow he knew it was alright. Even if Jason hadn't seen her himself, perhaps he visited the cabin where Jrasic was sure her scent still lingered.
His mind latched onto that and somehow the cellar around him managed to fade away. Instead, there was a warm fire in the distance, a soft bed, and a beautiful young woman scratching away at a paper with a plain old pencil. It wasn't real. A daydream maybe, and he knew it. But even seeing her in his memories was enough to make the pain fade away a bit more.
The door opened slowly and shut with a small squeak. The assassin that moved down the stairs had not been there before, but smelled greatly of Willow. He had a bag in hand and left it on the table before he went to Jrasic. Brady squatted beside him in silence and just peered at his leg.
"I guess it's nice she sends visitors," Jrasic said without looking to the man. His voice hardly existed at all anymore, consisting of hard rasps and strangled whispers. "It'd be boring with just Sonya, wouldn't it?" He rolled his head back to land his gaze on Brady, ignoring the way the back spikes of the collar scratched at his skin.
"It's not that nice," Brady muttered. He tenderly touched Jrasic's wound and then stood. He opened the bag full of syringes and lifted one containing clear liquid. "At least they've stopped the wolfsbane."
Jrasic's gaze followed Brady's every movement. "For now," he murmured. The other wolf just grunted and moved back to Jrasic. He pressed the needle into his arm and the liquid disappeared. Jrasic barely reacted but reached for Brady's wrist before he could pull away. "What are you doing here?"
"Sonya sent me," he said. Brady looked down at his wrist and sighed. "I'm sorry, Jrasic."
"You're the new wolfsbane," Jrasic said and released him, letting his hand fall limp to the floor. "What will you be doing then?"
The Assassin moved back and lifted another syringe, this liquid with a blueish tint. He stared at it and drew in a shaking breath. "It's going in your knee," he whispered.
