Innocent As Charged (Completed)

Chapter 2

It's been two weeks since Jack took out those hunters and there's been no sign of any people pursuing us, the longest gap between fights in the 3 years we've been rogue. Normally, it's at least one or two duels per week, sometimes more, sometimes stronger opponents.

This is bad Isobel. They must be planning something big or working with werewolves to catch us. Human hunters often undertake the responsibility of tracking down rogues like us.  We must be on our guard.

I, for once, agree. The feeling something is coming hasn't gone either.

Even so, we have to hunt. They will probably do something later rather than sooner, so we should use that time to get stocked up on energy in case the energy is much more powerful than normal opponents. 

I internally grimace. I know what she means by stocking up: she will be tracking down the large herd of deer that roam the valley, and considering the size of the animals, they will be very messy to eat. No matter how accustomed I am to her brutal hunting methods, I can't help feeling guilty about the animals we kill.

It's part of my nature to hunt those below us on the food chain.

But not mine.

I never said that it was.

After taking a large draught of water from the fall, she treads towards the entrance of the cave, testing the air for unfamiliar scents and signs of a trap. Finding nothing out of place, she steps out of the entrance, wary of ambushes, still sniffing for foreign smells. Everything is quiet, tranquil almost. She suddenly bounds forwards out of the cave and straight into the forest, hot on the scent of the local deer herd.

We soon come across them drinking at the river, the younger ones under the watchful eyes of the wary adults who gaze around, waiting for our inevitable appearance. The oldest of them have experienced our attacks before and know better than to linger too long around water sources when in our valley, some of them stomping, a frequent sign that they are ready to bolt if we make one wrong move. Placing herself downwind, Jack selects her target with care, an old buck with a slight limp, inflicted by us in our last foray, a month ago maybe, maybe more. He will be easy to bring down.

She us about to break cover when a rustling nearby alerts us to the presence of some unseen animal, startling the deer who scatter. Not pausing for thought, she takes off, dashing through the woods, away from the noise, aware that the noise could have been the rustling of someone lying on wait for us. We have been ambushed before.

A loud howl slices through the air. Her instincts were right: we need to run. If they howled, they are alerting other wolves to their position meaning there are others on the area who now know our general location and will be coming to find us. There is the heavy tread of numerous paws pounding on the ground behind us, getting nearer, their loud pants drowning out all but the blood rushing in our ears, and there is a change in step suggesting one is about to pounce. Pushing ourselves harder to escape, Jack goes into a full out sprint, using all the energy gained in our large hunt yesterday to fuel our flight, a loud thump close behind, indicating someone sprang but missed.

We are rewarded for our effort, the snarls of the other wolves fading away behind us. The instinct warning us we are in imminent danger refuses to abate however, and it is confirmed when a small pack of wolves burst out of the woods to the side of us, picking up the chase, taking over from our previous pursuers. We're going to have to kill them if we want to escape.