Wynter's Bane

Chapter 19

Edited with Grammarly: 5/21/2020

"The Midnight Fang Pack has also been laying claim to it, they already own much of the territory bordering that region. We have a peace treaty with them, but in our staking ownership to that land, it may upset the balance..."

My head starts reeling even as low whispers start among those who still have lips to speak. Glancing at the two young Alphas, Leilan looks excited, yet Markus seems wary. Seeing it actually has me feeling a little better, knowing he isn't jumping into anything blindly. At least I hope not.

I don't doubt the wisdom of his father or my Alphas, but this is the first time I'm even hearing of this other Pack. Who are they? Where are they? If doing this could upset the balance of things, why chance it in the first place? Why not find land elsewhere?

So caught up in my own thoughts, I don't even realize that the speech had stopped. Blinking, I look up, and sure enough, the sun has almost fully set. Just about everyone has shifted already.

The Alphas had been at the center apex of the gathering, they're still there as they do some last-minute chats, working at disrobing while at it. I'm at the outer edges, and I move back more, slipping into deep shadow before making my way up higher away from everyone before I lose my human body. I hold onto it as long as possible, climbing high onto the rocks till I find a niche to hide my clothing. Hard to get to for anyone already on four paws, so maybe they'll still be here by the time I get back.

A chorus of howls sound, echoing around me as I shed my human skin. Pale white flesh is soon hidden by just as pale fur, the dark tribal markings flowing along my shoulders and just over my back. My nose tips up to join the others, thrilled to be among them even set apart as I am.

There's a hunt underway, several in fact, to feed so many mouths, and it doesn't take them long to group off and head out. I hang back, staying where I am, knowing I'll just be pushed out anyway. There's always better luck to be had when I hunt alone. I'm small, lighter on my feet, and a lot more patient than most of the others my age.

A good half hour goes by before the majority body count leaves the area, that's when I pick my way down the rocks, having to make several precarious jumps to reach the bottom. Circling around slowly, most of those left are the ones guarding the pups and youngsters too small to keep up. I can keep up just fine, that's never a problem.

One of the wolves left behind is Kalista's mom, the Grotto Falls' Omega female. Padding up to her cautiously, she eyes me warily. Tucking tail and pulling my ears back, even ducking down a little as I make my way closer, she allows me to do so with only a slight baring of teeth.

At least seven cubs of varying ages surround us as I lick at her maw, giving greeting before I too go on my way. I back off before she snaps at me, even as the others jostle and nip at us. Kal's mom is nice, but she's still a wolf first.

Spinning around, I take off in the direction one of the hunting parties had gone, following it for a time before splitting off from it altogether and veering right when it had gone left. The night is young and I'd like to put some distance between me and the others, as much as possible without actually leaving. Hunts can travel for miles, but it's doubtful these will go too far, Werewolves are a lot faster and stronger than normal wolves, there's no need to run our prey down to wear it out.

I run for the sheer joy of doing so, the sounds of the night filling my ears. Scents fill my head with the tales they carry, luckily none involve any of my brethren or family. I haven't heard of there being any natural wolves in this area, but other large predators can be found, like wild cats and bear, not to mention the moose that aren't afraid to charge Werewolves, from what Marcus has said.

I make it just over three miles before I slow, heart singing in my chest. The sounds of water nearby have the dry tongue hanging out of my mouth licking at just as parched lips. It takes me a moment, but within a few steps, it dawns on me that the sounds have changed.

To be expected since an apex predator has entered the area, sure, but I'm not in hunting mode. I go stock-still and listen harder, ears perked forward then swiveling. There's movement, but I am in a forest, something is always moving, whether it be from animal, insect, or the playful wind.

My nose twitches, picking up the scent of blood, it's coming from the same direction as the sounds of water. The wafting sweet copper has the fur along my spine raising on end as unease fills me. This isn't the smell of carrion, nor is it food. It isn't human, nor is it wolf.

It's both.

Werewolf blood.