Males and females were gathered in front of the woods, their skin adorned with swirls of paint.

Blue for the females.
White for the males.

Their bodies were mostly exposed, only scrapes of cloth covering the most intimate parts.
Gone was the human attitude, their wilds taking control. They were predators. Wolves prowling under human skin, flashy eyes, bared teeth.

Nora had explained to me that this hunt was considered almost sacred. It was their way of celebrating the arrival of Spring, thanking the Goddess for the game that now roamed the woods. She had even told me that it was a sort of competition. Males against females. Whoever brought back the fattest, succulent, biggest prey would win. Or sometimes, even the deadliest. Accordingly to Nora's words, the males had won two years in a row. This year, the females were dead set on winning. I could see the want in their bodies buzzing with energy, in their muscles bulging under the skin. They were powerful, almost intimidating as a pack. They were warriors. And they were no less than the males.

I was in the rear, no paint adorning my skin, no scrapes of cloth covering my body. Some had offered to paint and dress me accordingly, but I had refused. I wasn't part of the pack. I wasn't thanking the Goddess. I was taking part in this just because I had some stress to relieve. And obliviously because I would never back down from a hunt. You could choose to hunt in group or by yourself: I chose to be by myself. Group work wasn't for me.

Two figures distanced themselves from the gathered wolves. One painted in white, one painted in blue. The highest ranking male and the highest ranking female. Their bodies were the most decorated: intricate swirls covered every inch of exposed skin, from their feet to their faces. Nora's curls were styled in two tight braids, leaving her face bare. Brown leathers covered her chest and pubis, blue designs on her milky skin. She looked like a warrior from another era. A leader for this pack of females.

My eyes went to other lonely figure, power rolling off his body. Hercules was bare chested, his muscles outlined and defined by lines of white. Lines that went down his thighs, curving along his knees and calves, and disappeared on his feet. He looked like a god. Like a Greek god of the hunt. He was mesmerizing. His eyes scanned the females, focused and unfaltering. And then they met mine. Their shade was enhanced by the pale swirls on his face, his features looking even sharper. A line of white went down his Cupid bow, dividing his lips in half. Lips that I had tasted weeks ago. A shiver went down my spine, but I tried to maintain a straight composure. His gaze was intense, the wolf showing behind the blue. It conveyed what his mouth couldn't. That it should be me in front of the females. That it should be me wearing leathers and blue paint. That it should be me with my hair in tight braids. That it should be me the highest ranking female. And for a second, I imagined myself like that. Leading the females in this hunt, my body covered in blue. Me, in front of them, side by side with the male that was my mate. I couldn't suppress the shiver this time. Hercules' eyes didn't miss it, darkening in response. My beast rumbled appreciatively, both at the image of us like that, both at the way Hercules was looking at us. Clearing my throat, I looked away. I couldn't go down that path right now, it was not the time.

An older woman walked between the two formations, an horn dangling from her hands. The females and males who couldn't take part in the hunt stayed behind, preparing the tables and knives for when we would get back with carcasses. She brought the horn to her lips and waited. Then, she blew.

The game was on.

Werewolves began running towards the trees, some already shredding skin for fur, some still waiting. Hercules led the males to the west, Nora led the females to the east. It was a blur of fur, of paint, of bodies. Adrenaline shot through my body and I found myself lost in the haze of the run. My wolf howled in my head, bloodlust already pouring out of her. Some females scattered from the group, probably having decided to hunt on their own. Most of them still went east, so I decided to take another route. I kept going north. In the weeks spent here, most of my free time had been dedicated to roaming the territory. I knew that up in the north, just at the border of the pack territory, there was a small pond, replenished by a rivulet coming from the mountains behind. I was directed there.

My bare feet kept hitting the ground, faster and faster, and I didn't care about the scratches that were forming. They wouldn't last long anyway. My beast pulled at our connection, pleading me to let her come forward. Skin became fur, teeth became fangs, nails became claws. Soon, I was running on four legs instead of two. We shook our coat, enjoying the way the wind tousled it. Trees passed in a blur, our eyes missing nothing. Faint howls resonated in the distance, but we payed them no mind. We were already thinking about our jaws deep in a deer's neck. The terrain started getting rocky and we knew that we were getting near. Slowing down, we approached the shores as silently as possible, choosing a place that would mask our presence. We crouched down between two rocks, our belly flat on the spotty grass below, ears up to catch every little sound. We were upwind, scents and smells carried to us by the breeze.

We didn't have to wait long.

Two deers broke out from the greenery, nearing the pond. A stag and a female. By the way the female was bloated, I supposed she was pregnant. The stag's horns were magnificent: big and sturdy, they looked deadly. Marvelous beasts. Too bad one of them was to die. And we were pending towards the male. My wolf licked her fangs, saliva already pooling in her mouth. Silently and cautiously, we began our descent towards the shore, masking ourselves behind the grass. A movement on our right, however, caught our attention. Russet fur stealthy moved between rocks, black rimmed ears appearing from time to time. A mountain lion had its sights on our preys. From the scent, the beast was female. My wolf rumbled lowly in the chest, straining to contain her dominance. Two females hunting the same prey? It wouldn't end well. Not for the feline, at least.

We were not going to share.

That mountain lion didn't know that from hunter, she would soon become the hunted. If we couldn't have the stags, neither would she. She still couldn't detect us, the wind carrying her scent in our direction. We crouched down, the grass shadowing our figure, and approached her, cautious about making noises and harsh movements. The feline's side was now in our line of sight, powerful muscles bulging beneath russet fur.

We leaped.

With a growl, we slammed on her side, our claws sinking in her rear. The beast roared and lost her balance, her rear legs giving up under the pressure of our weight. We tumbled down together, rolling towards the water. It was a blur of fangs and claws, a song of growls and roars. Pain sliced our belly, the mountain lion's claws scratching flesh. We kicked her away with our hind legs, our fangs deep in her shoulder. We splashed in the lake, the impact diving our bodies. Clear turned murky; blue turned red. The feline got up, deadly fangs exposed and tail swishing in the air. We lifted our upper lip, showing our own assets. A growl reverberated from our chest, the hackles on our back raised. Scratches littered our body and blood was pooling from our belly, but we didn't care. Our opponent was in worse conditions than us. She was limping on one of her hind legs and her shoulder was open, tendons and muscles in sight. Two shanks out of four were severely damaged. She had no chance to win.

We circled each other, waiting for the next move. Then, she made the mistake that would cost her life. With a mighty roar, she launched herself at us, claws and fangs displayed. Her stance, however, wasn't stable. We took that in our advantage. Dodging her attack, the beast crashed to the ground, her legs collapsing under the effort. We were on top of her in an instant, our weight pinning her down. She trashed and trashed, but we kept still. Lowering our muzzle to her ear, we growled low and deep. A display of dominance. The feline answered with a roar of her own and we respected her for the power she still displayed. On the other hand, respect wasn't going to keep us alive. This was the world of the wild. It was either kill or be killed. We clamped down hard on the beast's neck, our teeth slicing skin like it was butter. Warm blood spilled on our tongue and fur, dripping down our jaws. The mountain lion hissed and trashed, but little by little strength began leaving her body. Until it became completely limp. We retreated our fangs from her neck, licking them clean from the blood. She breathed no more.

The stags were long gone. Meat was meat. The mountain lion would be my prey for the hunt.

I shifted back to my skin and hissed at the burning coming from the gashes on my body. Touching my stomach, my hand came back red. The wound was kind of deep, but not life threatening. I crawled towards the water, my joints and limbs complaining at the action. I needed to clean my wounds before carrying back the carcass to the pack. I glanced at my reflection in the lake: my hair was a nest and my face was smeared in blood. I looked...non human. I was non human. With a sigh, I ruined the reflection with my hand, carrying water to my stomach. I hadn't been human for a while.

———-

The feline was kind of heavy. And my stomach hurt. A lot.

I could feel the tissue stretching and pulling, trying to rearrange itself. At least the bleeding had slowed down to a minimum. I repositioned the dead mountain lion on my shoulders, gripping the legs to keep it steady. The journey ahead was still long, but I would make it. My beast was licking her muzzle, satisfied of our kill. She was proud of having defeated such a powerful opponent. I snorted. I was the one carrying it on my shoulders, not her. She huffed and then focused back on grooming her fur. Cheeky beast. I still hadn't met another wolf on my way back, so I wondered if this part of the woods was not very visited. On the other hand, the territory of the Silverblood pack was really vast...either way, I had had my share of fun.

My steps, however, were halted when my ears picked up a strange sound. I slowed my breath, focusing on my surroundings. Nothing.

I waited. And waited.

When I couldn't catch anything out of the ordinary, I decided that I had imagined it. There was nothing wrong. Birds were chirping, insects were flying, leaves were blowing in the wind. But then...in the distance, an high pitched sound. I strained my ears in the direction it had come from, listening for more.
It resonated again. And again. And again.

A wail.

My wolf stood up on her legs, her attention captured by the sound. She whined, starting to nervously pace back and forth. She was urging me in that direction, pleading to go have a look.
I complied, following the path towards the wail's direction. The more I walked, the more the sound intensified. Then, a growl. A wolf. What was going on? Were they hurt? I was getting near, but I still couldn't see anything.
Another growl. This one, however, sounded different. It was deeper. Raspier. More guttural. It didn't sound promising. Not at all.
By now, I could hear some movements. Paws rasping on the ground. Big paws. Long-clawed paws. Powerful paws. And something that was dragged along. I finally glimpsed a small clearing ahead, trees and bushes thinning out.
The show that presented to my eyes made me freeze.

A wolf, bleeding and dragging its rear leg, was limping towards the trees. Its fur was matted in blood, chunks of it even missing, showing its heavily injured body. It was trying to escape. To escape from the beast that was approaching.

A bear.

A fucking huge and very angry bear.

The wolf turned in the bear's direction, lifting its upper lip and showing the fangs beneath. I recognized it then. It was a she-wolf that had often patrolled the borders when I needed to leave for Seattle. She growled, the sound menacing even if she wasn't able to sustain herself. She wasn't going down without a fight, but it was obvious that she wouldn't come out of it alive.

The mountain lion's carcass tumbled on the ground, but the bear was too focused on his prey to notice. The wolf, however, looked in my direction. In her eyes, under layers of courage and determination, lied fear. Something in my gut clutched. I was tired and injured from my previous fight, but I couldn't let her die. Not when I was here. It wasn't going to be a easy fight, not even near. I wasn't even sure if we could make it alive, but I had to do something. At least to buy her time to escape. And maybe getting help. I welcomed the shift, my wolf taking control of our body. It hurt. And I could feel the wound on my stomach reopening itself, the skin burning like it was on fire. I would think about that later. If there would be a later.

The bear was enormous. And male. And pissed as hell.

We sprinted ahead, taking advantage of the bear's distraction, and closed the distance between us. We jumped, landing on his side. We pinned ourselves with our paws, claws slicing through fur, muscles, fat. The bear roared in outrage, shaking his body to make us fall. This beast was a male in his prime. His muscles bulged with his actions, making us struggle to keep anchoring ourselves. If he succeeded in bucking us off, we wouldn't have a second chance. We had to sink out teeth in his neck by standing on his back. It was our best bet in escaping alive. We growled, tightening our hold, but we found ourselves slipping..slipping..slipping..and then our claws were not slicing through skin and muscles, but through air.

A crack resonated in the clearing.

Pain. We couldn't breathe, we couldn't...our front paw hurt. Our chest hurt. Pain. We needed air, air...Pain. We were lying on our side, our fur scratching against pieces of bark. The bear had thrown us against a tree and we couldn't get up...we couldn't...Our vision was blurry, black dots masking reality. We needed to get up, we needed to...we tried to roll on our front, but pain sliced through us like a bolt. Our front leg was definitely broken. We pinned ourself on the unhurt one, slowly getting back up. Every breath we took was like letting fire in our lungs, but we couldn't give up..we couldn't. Not like this. Slowly, our eyes got the grip back to reality. The bear was again onto the other wolf, having deemed us defeated.

Wrong.

We were not defeated. Not yet. Not until there was breath in us. We would go down fighting until our last breath, raising hell for that motherfucker.

We began advancing towards him, our body crying in objection. Every step felt like being torn in half. We probably had splinters of wood  piercing through our flesh, but those came after the broken bones, the torn skin and the gushing wounds. We had one last chance. And we would take it.

The she wolf briefly looked at us while we stared at her. She then refocused on the bear, trying to stand on her three non injured legs, and growled. An invitation to him. A distraction for us. The bear was already tasting his victory, prowling towards his prey with steady steps of his powerful paws, too focused ahead to notice us. With our last remaining strength, we leaped, closing our jaws on the side of his neck. The beast trashed, but we clamped down harder, our fangs sinking deep in his throat of life. Pain erupted in our back, but we wouldn't let go. At each strike of his deadly claws, our teeth sunk further. And further. And further. Until we found it. The scent of blood was prominent in the air and we couldn't discern between ours and the beast's. We were bleeding profusely, but so was he. And now, he would bleed even more. Until he exhaled his last breath. With a bite, we tore through his carotid, swallowing both blood and tissue. With a last roar, the bear bucked us off and we painfully landed on the hard concrete. The beast swaggered, uncontrollably shaking his neck, before gradually collapsing on the ground. Bleeding out. Dead.

We had won.

We exhaled a breath, our chest burning with the action. Collapsed on the ground, we didn't have the strength to get back up. Everything hurt. And reality was slowly slipping away.  We felt like dying. Maybe we were. But we had succeeded. We had won. We had protected the female. We had saved her. And now we could rest. Yes...resting sounded amazing right now. We deserved to rest. Our body needed to. Our mind needed to. Our eyelids began to close, the trees disappearing behind the dark. We had saved her...Yes, we had. A whine sounded somewhere, but we didn't know if it was coming from us or not. We were so tired...we were going to sleep now. Yes. Sleep. Rest.

We heard a powerful howl full of pain and despair coming from somewhere far away. Poor wolf. But we couldn't save him too. We had already saved the female. And now we had to rest. Maybe even die.

So we did.

————

I had this chapter in mind since the very beginning. It's definitely one of my favorites.
What do you think about it? 🙃

Thoughts on Lara saving the wolf?

And now what? What will happen next?

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Kisses