The man guides us into the huge fortress. I was wrong when I said that the inside was just as cool as the outside. It's ten times cooler on the inside! I feel like I've walked into a more modern version of a medieval kingdom. We walk past dozens of large tents filled with a wide variety of things. I see a few blacksmiths, armoriess, and so much more. I'm really surprised at how organized this is, but that's because there is magic involved. No wonder Eli was so desperate for help.
As we get closer towards the center, the structures around us change to what I assume are barracks. I also spot a mess tent. The man walks us up to one of the barracks tents and leads us inside.
He points to an empty bunkbed with a wooden chest on either side. "This is your quarters; your possessions can be stored in the chests next to your bed. Your mandatory training starts at 6 tomorrow morning sharp and ends at 8 a.m. From there you will go to the mess tent for breakfast and have a two-hour free time from 9 to 11 a.m." He pauses, pointing outside. "After that, you head back to the mess tent for update meetings and extra assignments, which will be started and completed after lunch from 1 to 6 p.m. Dinner is served from 7 to 9 p.m. If you don't finish your tasks in time, you can use the free hour you have before dinner. Lights are out at 10 p.m. Everything repeats the next day. You'll have this schedule until you rank up. Then you will receive a new one, though the meal times will remain the same. If you get hungry between meals, there are always apples and water in the mess tent if needed. Any questions?" he asks.
"Uh, just one. How long does it usually take to rank up?" I ask.
"Depends. Fastest is one day, depending on your skill level. Your rank up will be determined by the end of a day, and if you qualify to rank up, you will receive a new schedule," he answers.
"Huh, you don't have a written copy of our schedule, do you?" Hunt asks.
He laughs. "Your schedule will be posted on the clipboard hanging from each bed. It will be automatically updated by a designated person when you rank up. If you'll notice, there are forms clipped to the boards where you can fill out your information. Those will be collected, and you will receive a written copy of your schedule. Have fun picking who gets bottom." He turns and exits the tent.
"Dibs!" I launch myself onto the bottom bunk.
"That was totally unfair," Hunt complains.
"Does it look like I care?" I ask him. "We better unpack. We don't want to miss dinner. I'm starving."
"We'll figure out what the best moves are after tomorrow. But I think just working on moving up in rank as fast as possible will be the best bet to get close to the rogue alpha," Hunt says to me in a hushed tone.
There are tons of other bunks in the tent, but none of their residents are currently here. We're going to have to find a good place to talk about mission stuff, so we don't get overheard. We get settled in for now since we'll be here for a little while.
We both head out to the mess tent for some well-earned grub. I just hope it doesn't taste like shit. On our way I think about Mist and my family and how they think I'm at some internship. I have more important things to do right now that I have to worry about. I push all those thoughts to the back of my mind and try to get in character.
Hunt and I enter a tent and see a few hundred rogues inside, chowing down and talking amongst their buddies. We find our way to the food line and wait our turn. I gather up some not-so-bad-looking grub and wait for Hunt to finish. I pick out the emptiest table I can find. Unfortunately, the table has one person sitting at it. Hunt joins me at the table. The guy across from us barely gives us a glance before returning his attention to his food.
I start to dig into my food. It's not as good as my mom's cooking but it'll do.
"You guys new?" the stranger at our table asks. His voice is deep and rough around the edges. He has dirty blonde hair; it's short but long enough that it hangs in his eyes. His skin has been darkened by the sun. His large muscular build is intimidating. His icy blue eyes stare us at us, waiting for an answer.
"Uh, yeah," Hunt answers for us.
"You don't seem like drifters who'd end up in a place like this to me," he questions.
"You don't know us," I reply.
"Every other numbskull in here wouldn't give ya a second look but I ain't that stupid." He spoons another glob of food into his mouth.
"And what makes you think we don't belong here, pal?" Hunt grumbles.
He laughs. "I don't know about you," he addresses Hunt. "But you"—he points to me— "you're a pack boy," he says with a hushed voice.
"Oh yeah? What gives you that idea?" I lean into his space.
"Practically written on your face. And your friend here, don't know about a pack boy, but definitely not a drifter." He leans back.
"Think what you want, because it doesn't matter what you think of us." I try to sound convincing.
"The name's Benjamin, by the way, but everyone calls me Benny." He lightly taps his fork against his tray.
"That's Garret." I point to Hunt. "And I'm Flint." We've been given cover names for safety reasons, just in case someone here was to recognize our real ones.
"Yeah, sure." He chuckles, shoving some more food into his large piehole.
"You gonna believe a word we say?" Hunt asks.
"If you start telling the truth." He gives us a cockeyed grin.
We finish up our food quickly and head to our quarters to hopefully get some sleep.
I finally get settled into my bed. It's now 9:30 p.m. and I'm surprised how empty it is in here. Only a few werewolves way down on the other end. I guess they stretch their time to the limits. I fiddle with the charm of my necklace.
"Asleep already?" a familiar gruff voice asks.
I peek one eye open and see Benny changing his shirt at the bunk on the opposite wall. Which is not far—the room is quite long but not very wide.
"Please don't tell me that's your bed?"
He laughs. "Okay, bunkmate."
I groan, pulling the blanket over my head.
YOU ARE READING
Foster Wolf
Werewolf(Complete) Ryder is a teenaged boy in foster care. his parents died when he was two and was put into the foster system. He has bounced from one home to another. Either he was sent back or ran away, but this time when his social worker, Mary, found h...
