--- Beonnie ---

I had managed to limp a few minutes into neutral territory before I slumped down against a tree. It was still early, perhaps noon, but it felt like a lifetime had passed since this morning. I also felt stretched thin in my emotional capacity, like I had experienced all emotions that existed in the world in too short a time. I probably had. 

I allowed myself a few minutes to rest before I examined wounds, scrapes, and bruises, changed clothes, packed my backpack, and got up. The more minor injuries on my legs and torso were nothing to worry about. The one on my forehead I couldn't see, but my shoulder felt.. ok. The wound under my left knee had almost bled through the makeshift bandages someone had made, and I considered the pharmacy option Zac had told me about. Perhaps it was a good idea to get some clean stuff on and restock on chocolate bars?

Another lifetime later, I limped inside the small pharmacy a couple of miles from a crossing south of Zac. A little old lady hurried over and wrapped me in her arms before she leaned back to examine me. Friendly place, huh?

"Oh, dearest dear. How are you?" she fussed and put me in a chair. "Zac called and told me to expect you. I'm Berta. Let us see what we can do here. Oh, la-di-da, this is deep. Hmm, okay, this is... also deep and here, oh dear, oh my sweetest one, what have..." she stood back and looked at me.

"You know what, dear? I think you should start with a shower," she ushered me behind the desk and through a door behind it. I entered a small hallway leading to a kitchen, a staircase, and a closed door.

"Here we go," she said, opening the closed door to reveal a bathroom with a shower, soft towels, and soap—heaven.

"I.. um.. thanks," well, my communication skills had certainly not improved since my last attempt, but she seemed okay with what I could offer.

I got out of my scraps, formerly known as clothes, and into the shower. Oh, la-di-da, this was awesome. One shower later, and I felt like a new person. A person acutely aware of the streams of red water that appeared in the shower, but still, a new person. A bathrobe had replaced my dirty clothes, and I put it on and turned towards the mirror. The wound in my head was probably going to leave a scar, but I could live with that. I had expected worse.

My stomach rumbled as the smell of newly baked bread seeped through the door. Had Berta managed to bake during my shower? For how long did I shower? And would she consider adopting me?

I carefully opened the door and peeked into the kitchen. It was empty, and I turned towards the open door leading into the pharmacy as I heard Berta conversing with someone there. The doorbell jingled as the door opened, and whoever it was left together with what I assumed was a bag of freshly baked buns.

I ventured into the pharmacy, and through the windows, I spotted the back of a guy about to jump into a black SUV. He stopped midmovement and turned back towards the pharmacy again as if he had forgotten something, giving me a glimpse of his appearance. La-di-da. Gorgeous. Dark, maybe black, unruly hair. He shook his head and jumped into the car. Two more black SUVs were parked behind the first car, and they all drove off on what seemed a given signal.

"Who was that?" I turned towards Berta, having no idea why I asked in the first place.

"Oh, nothing to worry about, dear. Just that Alpha Neron Johnson and his son picking up some mail," she spat the name out, and as it seemed a touchy subject, I dropped it.

"Okay," she continued. "Let's see what we can do about all of this."

Again, I was ushered down on the chair, and she cleaned and bandaged all the wounds that needed attention. Unfortunately, some bruises had started to hurt, and the one under the knee took some time to care for. I didn't mind, though. Berta had not baked, but she offered sandwiches, and I was pretty happy with my situation. I was clean and fed for the first time in a long time. It was nice.

--- Henry ---

I sighed. It wasn't that I didn't want to engage in pack stuff or wasn't fully committed because I was. I knew it was my duty to learn about being an alpha and navigate that life, and I usually took pride in joining in on his meetings, but I disagreed with my father this time.

"If you are going to act like an obstinate teenager and have an attitude, I will drop you off right now, son. Make no mistake about that."

Yikes. My father, Alpha Neron Johnson, was in a mood today. I leaned back against the car seat.

"Not at all, father. I am just thirsty, that's all." Thirsty? Really? That was the best you could think of?

"Well, let's stop at Berta's, and you can get our mail, too. Hell, I'll come with you."

I imagined this offer of stopping at Berta's was only partially for my benefit. My father was tense today, which wasn't surprising considering the meeting we were driving towards.

There had been several discussions between the packs in our Prospect, ending with a request for a general Gathering. It was believed that Alpha King Prospect Ben Connors was not fit to lead, and a Gathering would make it possible for the packs to gauge their strength against each other and perhaps become the new Prospect pack instead of the current one.

If they managed to defeat Ben Connors and his warriors, that was.

However, delivering that presumably unwelcome message to the Alpha King Prospect was a task only someone foolish would take on. According to me, that was. According to my father, it was "an excellent opportunity to show that damn Alpha King Prospect who really should be Alpha King Prospect instead." Yes, my father wanted to go after that title, and I didn't think he had it in him.

Berta's pharmacy soon appeared to our right, and my father expertly turned into the parking lot, as did the two black cars accompanying us. Father wanted a display of strength, so our beta and some of the stronger warriors joined us at the meeting today.

He parked the car and turned the engine off. We got out.

"Alright, let's see what Berta has for us today."

He clapped me on the shoulder and opened the door to the pharmacy. The doorbell jingled, and Berta came out from the room behind the desk with a slightly alarmed face. When she noticed who we were, she straightened up.

"Alpha Johnson, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Her voice was cold and formal, and it was evident that this was not a pleasure at all. However, she smiled when she turned to me, and her demeanour changed.

"Henry, my dear. How are you? Oh la-di-da, I swear you get taller every time I see you."

I smiled. Berta had always been a sweet lady, and I was just about to greet her back when my father answered.

"Well, now Berta, I didn't know you were in the habit of helping low-life rogues here?"

He indicated a trash can filled with bloody bandages next to a chair. It was apparent someone with quite some injuries had been in here recently to get help from Berta. I was almost ashamed that I hadn't noticed the blood smell yet.

I sniffed the air. I still actually couldn't.. hmm, this was odd. There was a faint scent of vanilla in the air but nothing close to the coppery smell of blood.

"As you know, Alpha Johnson, this is neutral territory, and I help whomever I see fit."

She was back to being stiff Berta. It was comical how she switched between cold and warm depending on who she spoke with, but I knew better than to snicker about it.

"We will see about that, I am sure," my father said, giving her a cold glare, turning on his heel, and swiftly leaving the pharmacy again.

I put on what I hoped was my most charming smile and asked for our mail.

"And then I would like to have a soda, please."

One last glare at my father's back through the windows, and then she turned to me, all sunny.

"Of course, Henry, sweetheart. I will get it for you."

I put some money on the counter and patiently waited as she went to our postbox behind it to retrieve our mail. Living in pack territory and not wanting humans around, having a postman deliver your mail was out of the question, so Berta functioned as some sort of local wolf post office where the region's packs could get their mail.

Suddenly, the faint scent of vanilla seemed to increase, and I felt someone was in the room behind the counter. However, having no excuse nor real wish to know if that was the case, I took the mail when Berta returned, grabbed a soda, opened the door, made the bell jingle again, and left the place.

I was almost back by the car when the wind from the closing door brought a stronger scent of vanilla and.. fresh dew? I shook my head. Since when was I breaking down fragrances around me?

I got into the car, opened the soda, leaned back against the car seat again, and stared out the window, trying my best not to alert my father's attention.

After a while, we were approaching the Prospect Pack territory entrance, and I sat up straight. There could be no slouching like a teenager now. My father glanced at me, and since I was curious, I figured it couldn't hurt to ask.

"This is where the Gathering will be, right? And we will be here for the entire thing - right? Two weeks?"

"I think it is almost three weeks," my father nodded and continued. "But the first days are when the four lowest packs are fighting - we don't need to be here for that. Not even for the next four packs, either; we can wait until the top four packs are fighting. No one will challenge us anyway."

The cars turned to the right off the road onto a gravel road, on which we travelled for a good half an hour, all pack territory before we approached the gates. The territory was too big to be fenced all around, but the road into the main village was fenced and gated so that no cars could go in without permission. We were granted access and drove another few minutes before finding the parking lot in front of the main pack house.

The main pack house was more complex than a house and contained offices, meeting rooms, the dining hall, and the alpha's living quarters. I guessed it also housed his beta's rooms and probably some of the gammas and warriors still without a family of their own. This was my guess, at least. I had never been here before and had only seen the Alpha King Prospect from a distance at the last Gathering five years ago.

A Gathering was rare, like a big meeting for all the regional packs. All packs in the Prospect came and spent their time networking, practising, preparing, and participating in the Tournament of Packs. The tournament was created to deduce the strength and, consequently, the rankings of the packs in the Prospect. The higher the rank, the bigger the territory and influence of the pack. This was the civilised way of doing things, so instead of invading another pack's territory and waging war, we fought in Tournaments instead. Still, wars happened, too.

The weekends at the Gathering were more social and, if I remember correctly, a festival of some sort. Fun. The Gathering was also where the Alpha King Prospect defended his position as the highest-ranked alpha.

I had, of course, heard all the rumours about our Alpha, Ben Connors. First, about how strong he was, how great he was, and how wise he was. Then, as the years passed and he never found his mate, the rumours changed into how perhaps he wasn't so strong after all and whether it was really that wise to do this or that. And as time went on, the rumours turned even viler; perhaps he wasn't fit as a ruler, wasn't his pack weak, and then whispers of how cold he had become, how distant he seemed, and how he never attended any of the councils anymore. Nowadays, open remarks about his supposed cruelty are not uncommon.

We parked the cars, got out, and walked through the big wooden door into the main building, where we were greeted by a gamma who urged us to follow him to the meeting room. Upon arrival, he opened the door, gestured to go inside, and then closed the door behind us.

And there he was, Alpha King Prospect Ben Connors.