A/N: Because I felt the other half of this chapter needed a little tweaking, and it got so long, I split it into two, but they really are one long chapter! I'll try to get the second part up quick! Votes & comments might help with that :P

Enjoy!

Three

 -Why Bear Traps Are Illegal-

Part I

 *Annabeth*

It started to snow as I ran past one of the many abandoned hunting cabins the woods were filled with. Some were about to fall apart, others, like this one looked bad on the outside but I knew had basic supplies for lost hunters and hikers inside. Clothes, first aid, canned food and bottled water. Real life savers if you got trapped in a snow storm.

It had been snowing on and off for the past few weeks, mostly fine powder that melted away when the sun came out, or got turned to slush when it rained. The cold flakes however didn’t bother me at all as I raced down a steep hill. I was hot on the trail of a rabbit.

When I turned west I caught the scent of a wolf I didn’t recognize. It was faint, a day old probably, but thinking about the possibility of a rogue being in the area made me forget all about the rabbit. I dropped down and lay flat against the ground, my brown grayish fur fitting in with the fallen leaves and pine needles. The wind wasn’t blowing very hard so I doubted my scent would carry anywhere even if there was someone else in the area.

Remaining still and flat on the ground I listened. There was nothing. Only the sounds of the forest. Snowflakes slowly fell around me, landing on me and melting away. I wasn’t cold, both because I’d been running and because my fur was thick. I slowly got up, feeling stupid for being paranoid.

I realized I should be getting home. It was getting dark and I was a lot further from the house than I usually went when I was running on my own.

Just then the wind suddenly started to come on stronger, whipping the snowflakes around, sending me fresh waves of the scent I’d caught earlier. It wasn’t wolf I realized. Not shifter wolf or ordinary gray wolf anyway. No. There was something different about it. It smelled like what I thought the ocean must smell like, salty and tangy, while at the same time it made me think of fresh turned dirt. It was an odd scent and I couldn’t quite place it, which was rare for me. It was also mixed with blood and panic.

I moved towards the scent, catching the trail. Tracking was my favorite wolf activity and I was pretty darn good at it. With the wind clearly favoring me I didn’t think me tracking down whatever or whoever was bleeding would be a problem. And with the wind blowing hard my way my scent wouldn’t give me away so I’d be able to sneak up on whoever it was.

Setting a quick but careful pace I began to follow the trail.

A noise was the first thing that alerted me to the fact that I was getting closer, which was odd. The creature’s scent should have been getting stronger as I got closer. Only it was still about the same. Like whoever it had belonged to had passed through here yesterday. Only they were clearly still here. Odd.

Anyway, the noise was caused by something metal clanking. As I got a little closer I could also hear labored breathing mixed with muffled sounds of pain, interspersed with swearing. Really colorful swearing.

If I’d been in human shape that would have made me frown, since it didn’t seem real logical for someone to take human shape while in the woods – there were all sorts of creatures to watch out for; bobcats & mountain lions, bears, elk & moose. Sure there were hikers and hunters but they stayed on the trails, and no one tried their luck during December. Montana weather wasn’t exactly kind to that kind of foolery. So with all the creatures and the cold it made no sense for a shifter to be in human form out here.

Getting closer, I made sure to keep my paws light and to not step on anything that would make too much noise.

At first I saw only his naked back, which granted was very nice, but didn’t serve to give me any indication of who this wolf was. If he even was a wolf shifter. He sure didn’t smell like a shifter. Shifters smell a little like incents and a little like good compost. It’s a hard smell to describe but this guy sure as heck didn’t have it.

Yet I did smell wolf. Maybe…no. I knew other magic beings existed; like ghosts, witches and succubi, and my brothers had sometimes told me tales about other creatures of magic. Of unicorns, kitsunes, fairies, elves and werewolves. Werewolves, unlike shifters, were supposedly cursed to turn into odd wolf-man hybrids and had no control over their wolf. I hadn’t believed those stories, since I was fairly certain neither unicorns nor elves existed. Only what if werewolves did exist? He did smell like wolf, just not shifter wolf.

I stepped to the side, hoping he’d turn to me so I could see more of him. I wasn’t sure why but I was absolutely certain that if I saw his face I’d somehow know who he was. Only as I got a little closer and could see him better I noticed something horrifying.

His left leg was stuck in a bear trap.

It was the real old fashioned kind of trap, all nasty with long and thick rusty teeth. I thought I might gag. The teeth were dug deep into the guy’s lower leg and blood was still oozing out from the ragged wounds. I guessed, because the cuts were twice as big as the bear trap’s teeth, he’d tried to pull himself out of it. God that must have hurt. Stepping a little closer I noted the skin where the trap had clamped shut was purple and I thought by the slightly odd angle his leg was positioned in, it was probably broken.

Bear traps were illegal in Montana –along with most of the US- but some people didn’t much care about the law and last year Ink, the pack’s beta had gotten his foot caught in a trap too. We’d all been there to help him get out of it and it hadn’t looked this bad. His cuts had been neat and his skin hadn’t been that nasty purple color. I wondered just how long the guy had been stuck with his foot, naked and alone out here.

“Who’s there?” the guy suddenly said his eyes leaving his leg to scan the forest.

 I realized I must have made a noise. Both unsure of what to do and because the guy’s eyes were glowing yellow, I froze.

Yellow eyes.

That was new.

I’d never seen anything like that. Shifters were either fully human or fully wolf. Seeing wolf eyes on a human was disturbing. Because that was what those yellow eyes were. Wolf eyes.

I stepped forward. This guy was a werewolf. Not a shifter but a werewolf. Just like in the stories. It had to be.

“Shoo,” he said loudly, waving his arm at me. “Get away.” He showed his teeth, which looked suspiciously long. Wolf teeth and wolf eyes? If he grew wolf ears he would be just like the wolf in little red riding hood. I smiled at that, which I realized a second later was stupid because that meant I had just flashed him all my teeth.

“Go away. I’m not dead yet. Come back in a few days and you might have a shot,” he yelled at me. I stopped and sat down on my haunches, tilting my head to the side. Which, with his arms waving and still held out, gave me a perfect view of his groin. I quickly looked another way and if I’d been human I’d have been beet red. Thankfully wolves don’t blush.  “What kind of freaky wolf are you? You can’t even fucking pretend to be scared? Give a guy something.”

I lolled my tongue out and tried to think of what to do while I looked at the guy’s face. It was a nice enough face, kissable lips, sharp cheek bones and I guessed when he wasn’t wolfing out brown eyes. His dark straight hair was a little long and he had a nasty scar on the left side of his forehead.

It was clear he had no clue I was something other than a curious wolf. I guessed I could tell my dad the dog collar was useless for fooling people. I thought about shifting right then and there but it would be awkward with both of us being naked. And he clearly needed help.

I stood. I should run back home, get my dad and Don. They could get clamps or whatever they’d used to get Ink free of the bear trap that time before. Yeah. I stood, stretched and turned. They would help.

Or would they?

A sudden worrisome thought struck me. What if they thought this guy was the rogue? He wasn’t a shifter, I was sure of that, but they might think he was the bad guy. Maybe he was… only the rogue had left tracks and his scent outside of town, and those tracks had been shifter tracks. And while I hadn’t been there to catch the scent, others in the pack had and they would have mentioned if they’d smelt this guy. Shifters don’t smell anything like the ocean. So maybe it would be safe?

Still, I felt a need to keep the guy stuck in the bear trap safe and I suddenly began to worry my dad wouldn’t feel having a real live werewolf on his territory as a good thing.

What if, I thought, what if it didn’t work out? What if it all went wrong?

I decided I didn’t want to take that risk as I headed back towards the hunting cabin I’d run past before. I could get clothes there, tools too maybe. I could get him out of the trap myself and take him back to the cabin. Most of the cabins locked from the outside, so I’d be able to keep him somewhere he’d be safe from the pack and we safe from any possible danger he could pose. Or maybe lock was a little over stating it. There were brackets and a thick plank you could use to block the door. Sure you could still climb out the window but I doubted the guy in the bear trap would be up for that kind of gymnastics.

Yeah. I could keep him in the cabin until he was healed enough to tell me who he was and what he was. Maybe he could even tell me about other things out there; magic things. Then when he was healed we could go and talk to my dad. Shifters - and I imagined werewolves too - were big on showing how powerful they were during their first meeting. I’d be doing the guy a big favor by not letting my dad see him hurt.

I ran faster, wanting to get to the cabin and back to the guy before dark fell. Getting the trap off his leg would be more difficult in the dark, even if I could see pretty well even at night.

Skidding to a stop in front of the cabin I transformed back to human and took the little step up to the door in one motion.  I glanced around quickly before sliding the rough plank from the brackets then tried the door. It opened with a horror movie worth creaking.  

Without my fur I was quickly getting cold and I decided finding myself some clothes was priority one. The whole cabin smelled like old wood, moldy cheese and dust. A big red box with a cross on it was hanging on the wall. First aid; check. A large green box stood under it. Emergency supplies was written on it in fading white letters.

Teeth chattering I headed for it, kneeled in front of it and used both hands to get the weird lock mechanism to open. It did with a snap. I lifted the lid. The box contained a lot of stuff; canned food and bottled water that thankfully -judging by the looks of them - was from this decade, a old looking tiny portable stove, toilet paper, water purification tablets, sleeping bag, candles, a mosquito net, paper and crayons, a few plastic spoons and a wind jacket. The stuff rested on top of two thermal blankets. I pulled one out. It would be good to carry whatever else I took with me, in.

I quickly got the wind jacket out too and put it on. It wasn’t exactly warm but it at least covered me. After considering for a moment I took a bottle of water and closed the box. I took the first aid kit and put it on the thermal blanket then looked around the creepy little cabin again. There was a bureau with a missing drawer, a rusty tool box and what I guessed had been some sort of pantry cupboard. I went over and checked. The only thing inside the cupboard was an empty cookie jar. Too bad, I could really have used a cookie.

I did however get lucky with the tool box, finding a clamp. The kind you used when making wood stay still while you sawed it or to make stuff stay when you were gluing it. That would be perfect to get the trap’s spring to stay down, at least on one side. Maybe if the guy made his foot stay really still we’d be able to make it work?

In the first drawer of the bureau I found sweat pants and wool socks. I shook the smaller of the pants out and they seemed fine except for the fact that they stunk like my Aunt Mary’s attic. I took the second pair out. They seemed fine too and I guessed the guy would be wanting some clothes when I did manage to free him.

I put my sweats on and added his to the pile of stuff I was taking with me, then before closing the drawer I put the wool socks on. They may not be stylish but they would keep my feet from freezing. The next drawer held a red and yellow knitted cardigan. I took it out and shook it only to get a very nasty surprise.

Bugs fell all over my sweats and thankfully sock covered feet.    

“Eeee,” I shrieked and dropped the infested sweater and shook the bugs that had landed on me off. “Gross.”

I decided not to risk any more bug things and bundled my stuff together in the thermal blanket and headed out. Dusk was falling fast even though I doubted it was much past four. Stupid winter nights.