Returning to the ranks of the army, Robert slowed his mare once they were at the heart of the bustling group and Charlie could at last catch his breath. Letting out a low sigh, he stuck close to his brother and stayed on the alert.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the suspicion that something was wrong.

On edge as he walked, every shadow made him nervous. As though certain that every corner and crevice held an enemy wanting to tear them limb from limb. The red was still at the edges of his vision, and making their way closer.

Irrespective of what hid, it wouldn't cause as much damage as Charlie if he couldn't calm down.

"Calm down," Robert's voice was firm from above. "You'll do none of us any good if you lose your temper."

Lose your temper is one way of putting it, Charlie thought from the back of what was now only a semi conscious state. His heart was beginning to race and the thoughts were racing through his head to the point where he could barely think straight.

The only thing which kept him present was Robert's voice, how long it would last was uncertain.

"Something's not right," Charlie's words were devastatingly simple yet firm, his eyes danced.

For a moment Robert didn't respond, Charlie could all but see the tension running through his veins. The older Prince let out a low sigh at last, the fear apparent even in this small noise. "The sooner we get out of here, the safer we'll be."

Whilst it wasn't exactly an inspiring speech, there was truth to what had been said.

As the two brothers continued in silence, Charlie only grew more and more irritated. His head swung from side to side as he walked, and trying to shake the fear from his head. It made him look down right mad.

The wolf reflected the man.

It turned out there was good reason for it.

Someone a few metres ahead of the two brothers, let out an agonised scream. Then fell to the floor. Dead.

Hundreds of yells and cries of surprise then terror went up from across the rest of the army as they dodged left and right. In desperate attempts to avoid the place where the poor woman had been shot, but it was too late. They were surrounded.

Charlie was one of few left with enough sense, ironic as it might have been to look not where the body had fallen, but from where the shot had come. Charlie couldn't see more then ten metres, for the mass of people surrounding them as far as the eye could see.

They were surrounded.

The wall of swarming bodies was not more then three persons thick, but as they moved to attempt to break through they weren't able to within two metres before they too were shot down.

It appeared that there was no way they were getting out of this.

At least not without a fight.

Some were on horses, others on foot and a few on something a lot more terrifying.

Even from this distance Charlie was able to see the main giveaway as to who these strangers were. The same golden eyes that had flashed at him in the darkness of the cell earlier that morning.

Witches.

Dodging downwards so hard that his paws almost slipped out from beneath him, a ball of fire flew above his head. Smashing through the air Charlie had inhabited mere seconds before, and killing a handful of people who had been unfortunate enough to be too close.

"Run."

Charlie wasn't sure from who the order had come, but he didn't need to be asked twice.

Panic broke out amongst the ranks, and they set off running. Most of the shifters abandoned their horses to take up their own four legs as they were driven like sheep by a shepherd in a panicked line.

Kicked, trampled and beaten with every step there was little room to run as they charged forward. A single, terrified mass of people with no place to go other then straight ahead. A low growl echoed from his throat.

Before he lost it.

Lunging forward, the wolf could only think of one thing. Stop the pain.

It splintered through him from what felt like a thousand sources. Bullets for the most part managed to skim him and slip into the mass of passing people, but fire and water pelted him hard.

Were he able to think in a less then animalistic way, he would have realised that they were targeting him. Or at least it seemed that way to the watching eye.

But he was far past that.

Had it not been for the people on the outside attacking, Charlie would have slowly but surely ripped his own pack-mates apart limb from limb. But for once he had a true target to focus on. Kill them all.

What had once been Charlie lunged, this time the bullets hit him and he howled at the pain but continued running. Preparing to throw himself into the fray of strangers and destroy them if it was the last thing they did.

He would kill them all given half the chance.

If they wanted to stop him, they would have to kill him, knock him unconscious or wait until he had killed them all or dropped from exhaustion.

Either way, there was no way this would end other then in bloodshed.

In his wake, the rest of the army seemed to recognise what he was trying to do.

Most paid him no care, but those not overtaken by the panic, paused amongst the chaos and took aim.

Firing with everything they had, those close enough to Charlie to take a solid aim were unable to. Forced to duck and dodge the bullets and arrows hurled at them whilst others were taken down by them.

This opened the chance, in a panic the enemy failed to close the ranks for a split second.

It was a small opportunity, but it was all that he would need.

Charlie was among the ranks of the enemy before they could move to stop him.

And he began tearing them apart.

Surprisingly meticulous, Charlie worked his way through the ranks doing what he could to bring as many of them down. In such close contact, it was difficult for them to move to make a killing blow without chancing killing one of their own.

On the other hand, Charlie couldn't have cared less as to how many he took down as he went.

Yet it wasn't enough, there seemed to be three enemies for every one of theirs and no matter how long or hard Charlie fought, even with the help of the few that remained to fight. It seemed to make no difference.

Charlie snarled as one particular idiot swung at him with the barrel of a gun and struck through one of his legs. It buckled beneath him and he landed hard, skidding as he went. He was unable to regain his paws before the striker had turned on him again.

Hitting and lashing out at him with everything he had, the stranger rained blows down on the collapsed wolf. Charlie cried out, trying to land his own bites and claws on anything he could catch but it seemed to do no good.

Regardless of how many strikes he was able to land, the enemy landed more. And the rest were slowly realising what was happening and were joining in. Having fun with torturing the young wolf, like it was a game.

Anger seemed split his skull in half, and he lunged and in a single bite managed to tear through the main attacker. Blood spattering against his muzzle but he barely noticed in the midst of his fury.

The stranger was dead before Charlie had returned to his paws and continued fighting his way through the ranks. This time with a renewed anger, and he wasn't sure that was possible after all he had been through.

Bodies littered the ground in their wake as they continued the charge. Charlie leapt through and around as best as he could. Trying not to act like the blows that were landed didn't hurt, but it was becoming harder as he went.

A howl split the air as a blow was landed to the back of his head, sending him skidding out into the open once again. Vulnerable to the blows of anyone who thought to look back. Chaos had broken amongst the enemy as well, and for a split second it didn't appear as though anyone had noticed.

Something yanked at the back of his scruff, and he looked back to find Evie gesturing frantically too him. The wolf barely recognised the red head through his hazy vision, and he snarled when she attempted to drag him away.

Evie panicked, looking ready to leave him to die if that was really what it took, but she persisted. Her voice desperate as she pulled at him, "Charlie we need to get out of here." She said, her voice almost angry.

A part of him snapped, through the animal something screamed inside of him to listen. The instinct which wasn't driven by the need to kill recognised the danger.

Charlie lunged, bringing Evie with him as he tore towards where the last remnants of the enemy were running to.

With barely time to react, Evie grabbed onto whatever she could find. If she didn't want to be dragged she had to do something or risk being left in the dirt. She leapt onto the back of her old friend and landed hard. Almost bringing the both of them to the ground as she did.

Panting hard he surged on, tearing up the ground as he went desperate to avoid more pain.

Blinded by the pain and the fear, Charlie almost got himself killed but he skidded to a stop just in time. Heart racing as he looked down. The choices presented to him equally as terrible as the one behind him.

At his feet was a drop, some thirty metres almost vertically downwards.

From what Evie could see, it was a deserted river bed. Dry as a bone save for a small trickle of water in the middle.

The rest of the group was at the bottom of it. Some of them injured from the fall or the dive, she couldn't tell which choice they had made. Blood and death reeked from the hole, and it made it hard to breathe.

However, it seemed to be their only choice. Die in the riverbed or die from the relentless army on their heels.

It wasn't a hard choice.

Charlie paused, even in his maddened state he had some common sense to try and find a somewhat safe route downwards. It seemed impossible, rocks followed the cliff edge all the way down, out in jagged shapes which threatened to kill them with every step.

He took a deep breath, and took the plunge.

Landing hard, Charlie skidded to avoid the rocks but slammed into one hard. He let out a sharp whine of pain but continued. Trying his best to keep the cargo on his back safe, but with every step he picked up momentum to the point where it became almost impossible.

Diving left and right in an attempt to gain at least some control. It took a lot of self control for him to be able to not fall flat and take the rest of the journey on his belly. From where he got this usually rare control, Charlie didn't know. But he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and he was happy to still be alive.

For the time being at least.

When at last he reached the bottom of the cliff, grazed so badly Charlie was astonished he still had fur on his body. He skidded to a stop, panting. Looking up at where he had come from, ears flat to his head.

The state of this place was just as bad as it had been back on the top of the cliff.

Numerous people had broken limbs and were bleeding heavily. Charlie watched them with panic, it appeared they would be defeated before they had even reached their destination.

The more selfish part of him could only think about how he would never find an end, if this didn't finish with their victory.

It would be a vicious circle of which he could see no end.

At the clifftops, the enemy was staring down at them like a hawk circling their prey. Several were trying to make their way down the cliff, whilst others remained. Seeming to try and find an easier way down into the riverbed.

It gave them time, but it could have been hours and it would have been no help. As far as Charlie could see, his vision was filled with the colours of the enemy. And he could see no way to make their way back up to the clifftops to try and make the playing field level.

Outnumbered and trapped, it was looking frim for their party, which was now nearly a quarter of the size as it had been when they set off. Now for every one man of their own, there had to have been at least five of the enemy.

Yet the time quickly came to a close and they were faced once again with the jaws of death as more and more managed to make their way down the Cliffside safely. Even though many fell and died on their way, they were only replaced with more until it seemed like their couldn't possibly have been room for more.

Magic lit the fingers of the enemy, casting a luminescent yellow across the rocks above them.

A more cowardly man would have found it a terrifying sight.

The anger was filling Charlie so much that he could barely remember what fear felt like.

Like a single being, they moved forward. Lessening the space between them step by step, Charlie could see the smiles which lit most of their faces even from this distance. They thought that the battle was already won.

Part of Charlie couldn't help but agree with them.

Even the most optimistic man would have struggled to find any way that this could turn out well for them. If this was going to be the way Charlie died, he was determined that he would wipe the smug look from as many faces as he could.

Growling as they got closer and closer, Charlie swatted out at one of the men closer to him. Only to receive a heavy blow to the back of the head. Charlie bit back the whine of pain, refusing to let any of them know that he had actually been hurt by it.

With little other choice, they began backing away to the one place left free to go.

Backed against a wall of rocks and with nowhere else to go. It was a game of cat and mouse.

Charlie and his group were truly the cornered mice.