He was a mottled mess of grey and white, dotted with patches of pink where the fur had burnt away. He loped through his Protectorate, sometimes on four legs, sometimes on two, depending on the lay of the land and his mood. Ashes scattered as his paws hit the earth, and the scent of smoke hung heavily in the air. The afternoon sun cast rays of pink and violet across the ground, motes in the air scattering the light and littering the ground with patches of shadow.

Rising to the top of a hill, Shadowdance stood on two legs and surveyed the damages. It would be years before his territory was fully restored. He might not live to see the day that he could call the job complete. And yet, his heart felt light, and despite the tears in his eyes he smiled, his tail wagging behind him. Here and there, green shoots poked through the layer of grey, and the scent of deer and rabbit came to his nose even through the soot. In the distance, fresh water splashed along some unnamed tributary of the Colorado river, along with the chirrup of insects in the early evening. Even if he didn’t, the land would survive, and thrive once more, and that was all the Child of Wolf could dream.

A roar echoed in the distance, and the wolf’s ears perked. Letting out a howl in response, he dropped to all fours and ran towards its source, chest heaving as he burst through the treeline into a familiar clearing. The lodge remained where Watcher had left it weeks ago, at the edge of the river just outside his sacred territory. Beside the tree under which the tent had been build, the tan-furred Child of Wolf stood, his tail low, his ears back against his head, glancing about nervously. Leaning against it was a Child of Bear, his thick brown coat streaked with grey. One paw clutched a talisman hanging from his neck, while the other adjusted the pouch-covered bandoleer that hung from his shoulder.

Shadowdance stopped short, staring. He blinked rapidly, then broke into a wide grin, ears perked and tail wagging furiously behind him. “I’ll go get that deer now.”

Mountain grinned in response. “Grant us passage, Shadowdance?”

The grey-furred Child of Wolf nodded. “You’re welcome to come and go as you please.” He looked to Watcher and held out a paw. “Both of you.”

Watcher stepped forward and clasped paws with the other wolf, bowing over it. “I’ll do what I can to earn that right.”

Shadowdance grinned in response. “You already did.”

The Child of Bear held out a paw, then tapped his muzzle, sniffing the air. “Where is she?”

“Foraging,” the grey wolf replied. “She’ll be back before sunset, as will Leaper.”

The bear nodded at that, then motioned for Dancer to approach. “Turn around; let me check your arm.” The Child of Wolf whined but complied, turning so the bear could press his fingerpads in along his shoulder. “You’re healing up okay, but you still should have let me sling that. How do you feel?”

The Child of Wolf could only grin in return, his tongue lolling to one side of his open muzzle as he panted. He sprawled out over his back, and the bear knelt in front of him, rubbing his belly like an overgrown St. Bernard. Dancer growled in pleasure, batting at the air with his forepaws. “I told you.”

Mountain nodded and smiled in response. “Yeah, you did. Now, if you’re going to go hunt, go hunt. I want to check you over before nightfall.” He turned, suddenly, to the tan wolf who had been standing silently beside him. “Unless you’d show me how…?”

Watcher smiled gently. “You’re doing fine, Mountain, though I think I’m going to get a nap while we wait for the others to return. The sweet smoke will do me some good.” He knelt and gathered a few strips of bark from the leather blanket, then stepped inside the sweat lodge, letting the flap fall into place behind him.

Mountain stood, alone, for several moments, simply enjoying the feel of the light breeze through his fur. Then, he dropped to all fours and padded over to the bank of the river. Staring into the water’s depths, he saw flashes of movement beneath the surface. He watched, still, then suddenly snapped out one paw, raking it through the water, laughing with cub-like delight at the solid smack of impact and then the gentle flop of the fish onto the bank. Two more followed in rapid succession, and then the Child of Bear turned to his catch, licking his lips in anticipation. He reared, his bear’s body rising onto its hinds, head tilted painfully back against his neck. Then the world bent around him as his head pivoted on its access. His claws shrunk, splayed as five short stubby digits gave way to padded, furred paw-like hands. The blunt stub of his tail fidgeted as he stretched, trying to relieve the pleasant ache that always accompanied the physical change from four legs to two. Then, finally, he knelt by the bank, fingers laced in the wet soil, his head bowed in prayer. “Thank you, Great Mother, for this gift. I am Your cub, and I am grateful for this world that You share with me, for the gifts You have bestowed.”

Alex smiled. “Nope. I failed, and you can confirm that with Watcher.”

The man stood, trying to shrug off Alex’s paw, but the bear kept a vice-grip on his shoulder. “I said you were on his side.”

Alex’s grin threatened to split his head. “Nope,” he repeated. “I’m on both your sides.”

At that, Watcher barked a short, painful laugh. “Ridiculous. That man is a Shepherd, intent on killing every last one of us.”

“Maybe,” Alex admitted. “I got his side of the story earlier. Watcher, tell me about Mirror’s Smile.”

The Child of Wolf froze, tail and muzzle dropping. “I fail to see what—”

Alex held out a paw. “Indulge me, Watcher. Tell me again what happened to her.”

The wolf sagged, nodding. “Very well, Mr. Demont, if you insist.” He turned and walked over to the riverbank, looking down. He hesitated as he approached Mirror’s body, kneeling next to the fallen Child of Wolf but visibly afraid to touch her. “She had Pledged herself to a small tributary of the Mississippi river. Someone poisoned the water, and—”

“Someone,” Alex interrupted. “You mean AllChem.”

Watcher nodded. “Yes, but I would not learn that until later. I tried for months to help her, when I could. Every remedy I knew, every possible cure I could divine, every prayer I could remember and some I invented just for her.” He reached down to Mirror’s body, fingers hesitantly brushing against her dull fur, tracing one visible rib on her skeletal frame. “Nothing worked. Little by little, the life went out of her, until in the end she begged me to end her pain.” His voice broke. “So I did.”

“You killed her,” Walker sneered, grunting as Alex dug his claws into his shoulder. “Put all the fancy words you like on it; you murdered her.”

Watcher’s head spun back towards Alex and Walker. “No! I… I did everything I could think to do! I was so young, then. I had only just realized my nature. She…” He turned back to his fallen mate. “She was the one to show me the truth of what I was.”

Alex nodded. “Sounds right.” He looked at Walker. “How does that sound to you?”

Walker glared over his shoulder. “How does what sound?”

Alex rolled his eyes, dragging the man over to where Walker knelt next to the fallen body. “For being so smart, you two sure are dumb.” He grabbed Watcher’s arm in his other paw, hauling the Child of Wolf to his feet. “Get a good look at each other. Look down, at her. Who do you see? What’s her name?”

“Mirror’s—” “Lisa—” Both man and wolf spoke, then stopped, staring at each other.

The bear let that sink in for a few seconds before continuing. “Walker, you said you buried everything for your job, until you met Lisa. Watcher, you said you had only just come into your nature when you met Mirror’s Smile. Both of you say the woman you love took sick for an unknown cause. Walker, the wolf tried to heal your girlfriend. Watcher, you did everything you could for Mirror.” As the two stared at each other in growing horror, Alex drove his point further home with every statement. “Walker, the wolf killed Lisa. Watcher, you put down your mate. You found out that AllChem had a chemical spill upstream, the company Walker worked for.”

He let go of their shoulders, walking away from both, while they stood in shock, eyes turning from each other to Alex and back. “You—either, both, whatever—threw away your dreams for your job, then met a woman who could help you have both again. She died when you used your newfound knowledge to try to save her, turning your back on the other half of your past. When you found out it was your company, the people for whom you had given up those visions in the first place, that cost you the love of your life, you cracked.” He threw his paws up in the air, turning to face the other two. “Come on, guys, don’t make me say this out loud.”

Walker and Watcher turned to each other; the man’s face twisted in disgust, the wolf’s in shame. “Right,” Alex said into the uncomfortable silence. “You two have a lot to discuss. I’m not asking you to kiss and make up, but do you two think you can resolve your differences without resorting to name-calling?”

“Don’t count on it,” Walker muttered, his eyes boring into the top of Watcher’s head.

Alex shrugged. “If you can’t, you’re going to die. Your only path to victory is suicide, Walker. It’s your choice. Find some way to live with Watcher, or quit living. Do you see a third option?” He waited several seconds for Walker’s indignant sputters to settle back into that angry stare. “Neither could I.”

Alex turned in his seat, putting one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the Child of Wolf’s shoulder. “Hey, Watcher… it’s going to be okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Watcher sobbed, slumping in his chair. “What have I done? What have I done what have I done oh Dancer and Tundra and Nighteyes and… I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry….” His head bent, his ears pinned against his skull. “Lisa… Lisa, I’m sorry, I… I failed….” His voice descended from there into wordless sobbing.

“Watcher, listen,” Alex said gently, trying to calm the wolf. “I can’t possibly say I understand what you’re going through right now, because I don’t. What I can say is that you’re not alone, and we’re here to help. All of us. Briar and Dancer and I, at least. We’ll get through this. You need healing.”

Watcher swallowed heavily, struggling for control. “No, Mr. Demont, I… I don’t think there’s any healing for me, not after what I’ve done. I don’t think there’s penance big enough.” He closed his eyes, tensing. “I’d like… please, Alex, I… I don’t think I can live with the shame of killing my own kind.”

At that, Alex grinned. He drew in a deep breath, and as he let it out, his face stretched, mouth and nose fusing into a short blunt muzzle tipped by a black leathery nosepad. Fur blossomed along his cheeks, spreading over his scalp and down his neck to disappear beneath his disintegrating shirt. Claws burst from the ends of his fingers, digging into the steering wheel and poking into the wolf’s shoulder. He grunted, squirming against the seat and then tugging at his jeans to free the stubby tail trapped beneath at the end of his spine. Then, after a few moments of struggling, the remains of a pair of shoes flew into the truck bed.

The Child of Bear caught Watcher’s open-jawed stare and chuckled. “If you can’t deal with it, what makes you think I’d handle it any better?”

“But….” For once, the wolf seemed at an absolute loss for words. He swallowed heavily, blinking rapidly as if trying to dispel an illusion. “How?”

The bear shrugged. “Before, I only thought I believed. Now I actually do.”

Watcher leaned back in his seat, gaping. “I really have no idea what to say to that, or to anything else. I’m at a loss as to what to do.”

The Child of Bear gestured to the steering wheel. “We go back to Shadowdance’s Protectorate. We help him rebuild. We help you and Tom rebuild. The rest will take care of itself.”

The wolf shook his head. “It’s not that easy. I’ve… killed people. I’m afraid I may try to do so again.”

“Killing you won’t bring them back,” the bear said, turning to face out the front window. “Alive, at least you can do penance. I don’t think you’re a risk, but if you do try something, there will be others around to catch you before you do anything drastic. It’ll be a long time before you’re well, and it won’t be easy, but you’ll have others around you to help. Besides, Briar and Shadowdance already know.”

Watcher looked up at that, ears drooping. “They do?”

The bear nodded. “Yeah, we caught Tom, I followed up on a hunch, they saw him change. Now, we should get going. We’ve got a lot of healing ahead, for all of us.”

The wolf shook his head slowly. “This… this is too much. I’m in your debt, Mr. Demont.”

“Please,” the Child of Bear said as he started the truck. “Call me Mountain.”

Walker knelt nearby, his shoulders hunched, his head bowed. His body shook as he sobbed softly, his arms extended. In front of him, a woman lay on a familiar leather sheet. Her sallow skin clung to her frame, her joints swollen. Dirt smudges and grass stains covered her chest and legs, while flecks of blood clung to her lips and chin. One arm lay extended out beside her, while the other Walker held in his own, his fingers entwined with hers. Her hair lay in a spill around her head, listless and dull. Her mucous eyes were vacant, staring at nothing.

Slowly, Alex approached, kneeling reverently on the other side of Lisa’s body. “I’m sorry, Walker,” he said quietly, keeping his hands on his knees.

The man lifted his head, his eyes red with tears and rage. “Sorry?” His voice was a harsh whisper. “I had to watch the woman I loved wither and die over the span of a year and you’re sorry? I had to put up with the sniveling, whining shaman who promised her health and delivered only pain and you’re sorry.” Walker spat the words through clenched teeth, fighting back more tears. “I had thrown everything into my job, until I met her. I turned my back on my dreams, devoted myself to my work. I gave up everything I ever wanted. Then I met Lisa.” He turned his eyes back to the woman in front of him, his bottom lip trembling. “She… she made it okay. She made all that sacrifice seem worthwhile. I spent every minute I could with her. When she got sick, that bastard wolf promised to take care of her. He promised to help her. And everything he did, everything he tried, only made it worse. I begged her to get help. I begged him to find a real doctor. She was so taken with him, and he was so sure of himself, and all I could do was watch as she died in front of me.”

Walker looked up once more, glaring across at Alex. “I can’t bring her back, but I can take from the wolf the thing he valued, the way I valued her. I can rob him of his dreams, destroy his precious vision, and then watch his heart shrivel up and blow away the way mine did.”

Alex put his hand back on his leg. “You’re killing people, Walker. You’re killing people who had nothing to do with Watcher, or Lisa.”

“No.” Walker’s insistence was final, his eyes cold. “I’m not killing anyone; I’m just culling the herd. If you all want to live like animals, then you can die like animals for all I care.”

Alex was silent for a moment as he stroked his beard in comptemplation. “What about Watcher?”

Walker grinned smugly. “Watcher’s gone. I caged him and sent him away.”

Alex rose carefully, keeping his hands at his side. “If he’s gone, he can’t see your revenge, can he? If you want him to suffer, doesn’t he need to be here to see it?”

“No!” The outburst was even stronger than the last. “If he’s here, you might let him go.”

“If he’s not here, how’s he going to see what you’re doing?” Alex spoke patiently, calmly. “How’s he going to know that you won?”

Walker’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t trust you. You’re on his side.”

Alex shrugged. “Why should I be? I’m not one of them. I failed his little test. You can ask Watcher yourself about that one.”

“You did?” At Alex’s nod, Walker stood and brushed the grime from his knees. “I wish I’d known that earlier. Sorry about your apartment.” He gestured behind Alex, then stepped over Lisa’s body to the cage under one of the trees. Inside it, a tan-furred wolf lay on his side, curled up like a pup, shaking. “So, the infallible Watcher fails again. How does that make you feel?” The wolf tried to look away, but Walker’s fist slammed into the cage, rattling the bars and making its occupant’s tail bristle. “Don’t turn your back on me, you hypocritical fraud. You thought you knew everything, but really, you’re just a dumb animal. Admit it!” Walker’s face distorted in a mask or rage. “Admit it!”

The wolf turned back, his ears flat against his skull. He hung his head, then nodded slowly, hunkering down on himself, his tail tucking itself between his legs.

Walker smirked, putting his hands on his hips. “So, the old wise wolf finally admits his folly. You’ve lost, Watcher.” He bent down, gloating into the cage. “There’s nothing you can do, this time. Your little friends might have gotten Parson, but they haven’t gotten me, and they won’t—”

A heavy, brown-furred paw slammed into the back of his head, knocking him into the trap; his forehead clanged off of the bars as he dropped to the ground. “He was never going to shut up,” Alex grumbled as he stepped forward. He peered through the bars at the wolf within. “I don’t suppose, with him out of the way, you can just whisk yourself out of there, can you?” Without waiting for an answer, he squatted, grabbing the bottom edge of the heavy iron cage and lifting. Once the gap was wide enough for the wolf, he grunted. “You better squeeze out while you can.”

Watcher needed no further encouragement and slunk under the cage, rising back onto his hind legs once free. “I am afraid I underestimated you, Mr. Demont,” he said softly once he was free. “Now, if you do me the courtesy of helping get Mr. Kinney here underneath—”

Alex dropped the cage, letting it slam into the ground. “No.”

Watcher’s ears flattened against his head. “But, Mr. Demont, you are quite aware that that man is one of the Shepherds. If he awakens—”

Alex turned around. “I’m quite aware of what he is, Watcher. And who he is.” He tapped the side of his head. “Every time you showed up around me, I could feel something… wrong. Like a spider crawling around inside my brain. I figured it was more of your spiritual association, but it wasn’t.” He looked down at his paws, then back up at the Child of Wolf. “It was mine.”

The wolf took a step backwards, away from the bear staring intently at him. “Mr. Demont, I… am afraid I am unsure what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean,” Alex replied, kneeling down and putting a paw on Walker’s shoulder, gently shaking him awake. “This ends, though. Now.”

Parson was late. That alone wouldn’t have worried Walker; they’d all been on difficult assignments in the past, and he knew the hunter could handle himself in the wilderness. He knew Parson wouldn’t have his phone on him if he was actually in the field, either, which made the lack of contact all the more reasonable. Thinking about it, Walker could easily come up with half a dozen other reasons why Parson might not have called yet, from his battery dying to his car getting towed with the phone inside. None of those stopped him from hitting redial for the sixth time and then hanging up in frustration as he crossed the street.

It was, Kinney admitted to himself, the nature of the assignment that bothered him. Werewolves and the like were solitary creatures, which was both a blessing and a curse. It made them harder to find, but when they could be found, it made them easy targets. The ones that claimed some kind of territory were even simpler; he and his associates didn’t even have to go after those. One industrial accident and their beliefs would kill them, their damned devotion to the land driving them insane from an easily-managed chemical spill. That trick worked like no other; he’d seen what it had done to Watcher’s mate.

This time, though, the one he’d found in that park had managed to survive the first strike long enough to get that damned wolf, Watcher, involved. He, in turn, had gotten others involved to help clean up the mess. That was a bad sign. Solitary hunters they could eliminate at their leisure; an organized group would take more visible means to resolve, and that kind of publicity neither of them wanted. He’d tried to finish the job himself, using some of the wolf’s own tricks to mask his scent, but the rabbit had let out a scream the like of which he had never heard as soon as he’d touched her, sending him running to try to outrun the rest of their little ragtag “pack.”

Parson had a reputation for efficiency and stealth, which is why Walker had called him in to finish the job he’d started. However, each minute of silence past when the hunter had said he would call made Kinney that much more irritable, that much more certain that something had gone horribly wrong. He had no proof, but the longer he waited for the confirmation call, or even an admission of failure, the more sure he was that the time had come to take more drastic measures.

As he rounded the corner into the parking garage, something thick and heavy impacted the side of his head, sending him staggering and stars shooting across his vision. His hands went to cover his face as he fell, sprawling on the pavement, his phone smashing on the concrete. As he struggled to sit upright, he blinked frantically to clear his head, squinting to focus his eyes despite the pain. Standing just beside where he had fallen was a mountain of a man, his face hidden in a tangle of grey-brown beard and lanky hair, roughly tied back with a leather strap. His button-down shirt was ragged at the hem and half the buttons were missing, and his jeans were almost shiny with caked-on grime.

The figure squatted over his heels and held up a small object. “Tom’s not available to take your call.”

The voice was unfamiliar, but at the words Kinney froze. “Who?”

Walker’s assailant shook his head. “Try again.” His voice carried anger and amusement in equal measure. “Maybe you just know him as Parson.”

That got Walker’s attention, but his head was still swimming from pain. “Stalking. Assault. Kidnapping.”

“Arson. Conspiracy. Attempted murder.” The figure rose and approached, looming over him. “I think we’re even. Get up.” A massive hand grabbed Walker’s arm under the shoulder, hauling him to his feet.

Walker tried to jerk his arm away, but the man’s grip might as well have been a bear trap. “Let go. I swear, I’ll call the police.”

The man grinned. “You do that. I’ll be glad to tell them I caught the guy who planted the bomb in my apartment three weeks ago. Your move.”

The two men stared at each other in stony silence. “How did you find me?” Walker finally asked, his voice a low growl.

At that, the man tapped his nose with his free hand. “Not literally, of course, but I knew AllChem was involved, I had a rough sense for what you looked like, and I had a pretty good sense how I’d feel when you got close. Given that, it wasn’t hard to track you.”

Walker nodded, keeping his face carefully neutral. “So what do you want?”

The other man responded by tugging him forward, marching him further into the garage. “I want to hear about your girlfriend.”

That brought a snarl to Walker’s face. “You bastard. How dare you talk to me about Lisa. You and the rest of your—”

The man’s other meaty paw slammed into the back of his head, kicking off a fresh flood of stars. “I didn’t ask you about your religion. I told you I wanted to hear about your girlfriend.” He kept walking, leading Walker towards the back of the garage and a weatherbeaten truck. “You said Lisa was her name?”

Walker scowled. “Lisa Ginney. She died… five years ago.” Despite his anger, he couldn’t keep the nostalgia out of his voice, the desperate yearning that he still felt, even after all this time. “She was my life.”

The man nodded, opening the passenger door to the truck and helping Walker, almost cautiously, into the seat. Walker squirmed against seatbelt as his kidnapper buckled it around his arms, pinning them to his sides, then wrapped the nylon around him before shutting the door and running around to the driver’s side, hopping in before Walker could work an arm free. The locks dropped and the engine started, but the truck remained parked. “Tell me about her,” the man said, wrapping one hand around the claw hanging from his neck.

“I’m not about to sully her memory by sharing her with the likes of you,” Walker spit in a sudden burst of defiance. “We’ll win in the end, you know. You’re outnumbered and outclassed. Your days are numbered. You may have gotten Parson, but you can’t get all of us.”

“Maybe,” the man agreed, nodding, “but I’m not interested in all of them. I’m interested in you, and in Lisa. Tell me, Walker. Do you dream about her?”

The use of his name and the question startled him into a slip. “All the time,” he admitted. “Ever since that bastard wolf stole her from me.”

The man nodded again. “Tell me about those dreams, Walker. Where are you? Where’s she?”

Walker leaned back against the passenger’s seat, trying to shift an arm free, but the nylon wrap held fast. “She’s dead, or dying,” he said, his voice wavering as the memory came back to him. “She’s stretched out on a leather blanket on a riverbank. Pus oozes from her eyes. Her joints are swollen, but the rest of her’s just… just skin and bones. Her hair’s flat and matted.” His voice sank to a whisper. “She looks like a mummy. She can’t stand, can barely crawl. She can’t even keep down water.” Tears seeped from his eyes, but he refused to acknowledge them, forcing himself to keep talking despite them. “She’s thirsty… so thirsty.”

The man nodded, then put a hand on Walker’s shoulder, looking into his eyes. “Tell me about the area, Walker. Winter or summer?”

Walker’s eyes were distant, looking not at his kidnapper but five years into the past as he spoke, his body slumping against the seat. “Late spring. There’s a warm, wet breeze, but it’s carrying a sick stench, something cloyingly sweet and moldy, and it feels like it’s clinging to everything. The plants on the shore have died, and the grasses are brown and withered.” His eyes half-lidded, his voice starting to slur. He glanced at his assailant, whose eyes were similarly drifting. “All around, the trees to either side of the river look like they’re drooping, their new-grown leaves falling from the branches….”

Alex didn’t lift his head. “I didn’t.” His voice was implacable, inscrutable. “I hoped I’d been wrong.”

Briar nodded, then closed her eyes. “So what does it mean?”

Alex looked up at that. “It means exactly what you think it does. I should’ve realized it a lot sooner.” He lowered his gaze to the water. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

The Child of Rabbit wrapped her arms around her knees. “You’re thinking too much about the future. You know what needs to happen. You just have to go do it.”

“I know,” Alex sighed. “It may not work out that cleanly, but you’re right.” He looked back towards the tent. “Shadowdance is pretty much recovered. His Protectorate… that will take years, but the worst is over. From here, there’s just rebuilding.” His eyes turned back to Briar’s. “You going to be okay with everything?”

Briar nodded in response. “I’m more worried about Dancer. This has been hard on him.”

Alex chuckled. “This has been hard on all of us. The knot on the back of my neck still hurts.” He shoved himself to his feet with a groan, then helped the Child of Rabbit stand as well. “No point in putting it off any longer.”

Briar took Alex’s hand in her paw, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I should go forage.” Then with that, she was gone, dashing off into the trees, barely a rustle marking her departure.

Alex stood, staring at the spot at which the Child of Rabbit vanished, then turned back towards the leather tent the the plume of white, healing smoke rising from its top. Inside, a mountain lion lay curled on his side, mewling quietly. His fingers were clenched, claws sliding in and out of their sheathes as he dreamed. From time to time, a shudder would pass through his tan fur, or his thick tail would lash against the ground. On the far side of the sweat lodge, Shadowdance crouched over his hind paws, his arms folded and his elbows on his knees. His tail brushed the ground in slow sweeps as he watched the Child of Cat struggle through his nightmare. As Alex walked in, he lifted his gaze, then rose and motioned the man back outside, following and letting the flap drop to hold the vapors within.

The Child of Wolf looked back to the tent, then to Alex with a scowl, tail pinning to his back. “I still don’t like this.”

Alex nodded and clapped the wolf on the shoulder. “I know, Shadowdance. I know. Unfortunately, I can’t think of a better way to help him figure out what he’s been missing. Your Protectorate needs you, you’ll have him to help you heal it, and you’ll have Briar to help you watch him.” He glanced towards the lodge, then back to the Child of Wolf with a smile. “Besides, at worst, I’ll have his car and his phone, and his guns are long gone. What’s he going to do, rant at you?”

Shadowdance barked a short laugh at that. “Fine. Yes, I want the help. Just….” He looked past Alex, towards the highway. The fires had been extinguished, but soot still hung in the air. “I’m not used to thinking about the future, and I don’t like it very much, but I think that we’re all going to have to learn how.”

Alex nodded in response, giving the wolf’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’m afraid we’ve all lost that luxury, but that doesn’t mean we should give up on what we are, any of us.” He chuckled. “For now, finish recovering and help Tom. If I’m not back in a few days, then you can worry about what comes next. I know you can’t leave, but this place won’t be safe any more.”

Silence hung in the air between wolf and man for a few moments, until Shadowdance focused back on the man’s face. His ears lifted and his tail waved behind him. “I’ll have a deer waiting for you when you get here.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “As long as you don’t tear your arm out of the socket to catch it. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” With that, he held out his hand to the Child of Wolf. “Shake.”

Shadowdance mock-growled, then ducked his head and licked Alex’s fingers, making him jerk his hand back and wipe it on his filthy jeans. Then the wolf gave a final wave and ducked back into the sweat lodge, letting it close behind him.

All that remained between Alex and the World of Man, then, was the long walk to Parson’s truck. The hike back to the road felt longer than the one taking him to the sweat lodge just outside Shadowdance’s Protectorate. I don’t want to leave, he realized with a quiet chuckle. Still, this will all be over, one way or another. Then, I can return, or find my own place… or it won’t matter. That last, he considered, then shrugged and set it aside as unimportant. What will happen will happen, he reminded himself. Do what you need to do, and let the rest take care of itself.

The bear-mind woke from its slumber and smiled, then drifted to sleep again.

Parson had parked his truck where his own vehicle had been; as the once-hunter had said, his own was gone. The key he’d taken from Tom’s jacket slid into the lock easily enough, and the engine started smoothly on the first try. The fact that he was about to drive a borrowed vehicle without permission after being gone for several days in the wake of an explosion in his apartment briefly reared itself in his head, but he brushed it aside, pulling out onto the interstate. He was doing what he needed to do. Everything else would take care of itself.

The bear carefully rose, pressing the necklace into his breastbone. Snow fell from his shoulders and back as he moved, then cascaded down in a flurry as he shook off the last of his trance. “Come on, Tom,” he called out to the man on the other side of the fire.

Tom’s head snapped up to the bear’s, startled. “Go… where?”

Alex held out a heavy brown-furred paw to him, helping him rise. “To find something you’ve lost.” Once Tom was on his feet, the bear turned and began walking away from the fire, deeper into the forest.

Tom drew back. “It’s dangerous out there.”

The bear paused, then looked back. “No,” he said calmly, fingering the bear-claw hanging from his neck with one paw, the other held out to Parson. “I’ll protect you. We need to hurry, though.”

Tom hesitated, then followed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. “I don’t like this,” he grumbled as he walked. “I wish I had my guns.”

Alex didn’t look back, though he did raise his nose to the faint wind. The only scents that came to him, though, were his own and Tom’s, and the fire, only visible behind them as shifting strands of light against the ground. “Why’s that, Tom? Is there something out here? And by the way, which way are we going?”

The hunter glared at Alex, stopping in his tracks. “I. Don’t. Know,” he said slowly and deliberately. “I just don’t like it here. I feel naked.”

The bear couldn’t help but grin and deliberately look down at his nude—though furred—form at that. When he opened his muzzle, though, the words were serious. “Tom, I think you know what’s out there, and I think you’re afraid of it. I know you’re scared, but whatever it is, I’m here to help. Okay?”

Tom’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I’m not scared.” His chin jutted out defiantly. “I’m… you won’t believe me.”

Alex held out his paws, pads up. “I’m here, aren’t I? Just show me, Tom. Show me what’s out here.”

Tom withdrew, standing for several seconds, looking back in the direction of the fire. He nodded, then spoke around clenched teeth. “Fine. This way.” The hunter turned, then strode into the forest, further from the flames. He was rigid as he walked, his pace almost a run, his arms held stiffly at his sides. Alex jogged lightly beside him. scanning the trees with all his senses, but everything told him that the two were alone. “Walker was the only one who believed me,” Tom continued. “He has a plan.”

“Walker?” Alex asked, trying not to sound winded. “Who’s Walker?”

Tom didn’t answer; he instead motioned towards a small cluster of trees towards which he walked. The campsite had vanished behind them, leaving them with only the faint rays of dusk and the first slivers of moonlight to light their way. “You wanted to see. It’s behind there.” His voice was hard, tense, with hints of fear creeping in around the edges. “I did warn you.”

Alex nodded, then deliberately slowed back to a walk. “Easy, Tom. Let’s go slow. I’m right here, okay? Whatever it is, I’m here. Wait here. Let me go first.” He held out a paw, waving Parson back, then carefully approached. A patch of ground had been scraped clear, and in the middle of it was the remains of a fire pit, a small pile of ash and charred wood. Beside it lay the remains of a Child of Deer. From the position of the body and the blood stains on the ground, it looked like he’d been shot once in the shoulder, fallen and tried to crawl away, then bled to death from a second bullet in the neck. One of his antlers had cracked in the fall, and his muzzle hung slightly open. One eye gazed balefully upwards staring in empty shock.

The bear put a paw over his muzzle, holding back the churning, but a familiar clack behind him made him freeze. “I told you,” Tom said. “It’s dangerous out here.”

Alex didn’t move. “Shooting me won’t bring him back, Tom. What happened?”

“He said I was one of you,” Parson spat. “And he wanted to show me. He wanted to help.” He sneered the word. “Up against the tree. I. Don’t. Need. Help.”

Alex moved, slowly, taking up a familiar position against one of the trees, his paws gripping the rough bark. “This isn’t going to prove anything, Tom. Are you?”

“Am I what?” Parson’s voice remained flat.

“One of us,” Alex responded just as calmly.

“Of course not!” The denial came fast and loud. “I’m a hunter! I’m not prey. You, however, are going to make a fine troph—” An angry yowl interrupted Parson’s voice, which rose into a scream, ending in a sharp crunch. Alex whipped around to see a mountain lion crouching over Parson’s prone form. His foreclaws were sunk completely through Parson’s coat. In the faint light of twilight, the big cat’s tan coat looked like pale shadows poured over a skeletal feline frame. His eyes were golden and flashed with anger.

“Murderer,” the cougar hissed, digging his claws in further. “I knew you’d come back. Sumac wasn’t enough for you, was it?” Tom tried to find the air to scream again, but the sudden jab into his shoulders reduced him to a breathless whimper. “At least while you were too scared to go looking, I was safe.” His forearms rippled as he gouged out more of Parson’s flesh, but his eyes turned from the man under him to the bear. “No thanks to you, he’ll be after me next.”

Alex lumbered over and dropped to the ground, for the moment ignoring Tom’s writhing. “Maybe. What’s your name? I’m… well, call me Alex.”

The mountain lion stopped twisting his claws into Tom’s shoulders, instead sprawling across his back and leaning heavily on the open wounds. He regarded the bear for some seconds, then turned and licked at one forepaw, grooming it nonchalantly. Several seconds past, while the cat made a show of ignoring both the question and its asker. Alex held up a paw. “Fine, don’t tell me. Listen… I think you two need to talk.”

The cat looked back at Alex, then down at Tom with a grin. “Oh, I don’t think there’s anything to talk about, is there, Tom?”

“Animal,” Tom gasped in reply. “I don’t… I don’t want—”

“Hey, can you ease off of him? You two need to resolve this.” Alex put a paw on the cougar’s flank. “He’s not going anywhere.”

The cat’s golden eyes narrowed, but he shifted off of Tom’s back, curling up and resuming his impromptu grooming. Alex helped get Tom up to a sitting position, though he groaned as he rose, whimpering at the claws in his back. Once they were both seated, Alex nodded. “Now, why don’t you two tell me what happened to the deer over there.”

Both cat and hunter started at once, then fell silent. The cougar went back to his paw, and Tom turned his head back towards the fallen body. “I don’t know,” he said. “Dave and I… it was the end of college. We’d gone out camping. I used to love that kind of thing. Getting back to nature, all that. It was weather a lot like this, really. We’d been hiking up through Wyoming; Dave said he’d wanted to get well off the trails, so we were well out into the woods. We set up camp and I’d gone out to pull down some small game for dinner, but when I get back—”

The cougar lifted his head at that and hissed. “You whip out your gun and shoot Sumac in the chest.”

Tom turned his head to the can and glared. “Maybe if he’d said what he’d done with Dave—”

Alex rose at that, stepping forward to physically interpose as cat and human leaned towards each other. One paw fell heavily on each shoulder, pushing them back apart. “Okay, kids, that’s enough. I guess that was Sumac back over there I saw. Now, Tom, I get that you’re angry. I get why you’re angry. I don’t get why you’re taking out that anger on us.”

The cat rumbled back in his chest, glaring at Tom. “He didn’t need a reason. He’s just a killer!”

“It was self-defense!” Tom shouted in reply. “I didn’t know what that… that thing had done with Dave! How was I to know I wasn’t next?”

Alex growled. “Okay, knock it off.” He shoved both of them back into their seats, Tom landing with a gasp of pain. “You two don’t get it, do you? You’re really this deep in denial. Tom, have you ever seen this particular talking cat before?” He rounded on the cat. “And…have you ever actually seen Tom before, or do you just know him from his sterling reputation?” At that, both human and cat turned to look at each other, eyes widening at once before they turned back to Alex. “Yeah, thought so. Like I said, you two need to work this out. In the meantime, think I can trust you not to kill each other?”

Tom and the cat looked once more at each other, then back to Alex, before nodding. Alex grinned. “Listen. Nobody said this was going to be easy, but you’re not going to be alone on this. You’ve got others around to help.” They nodded again, and Alex rose, clutching again at his necklace. “I’ll see you outside.”

The man’s face contorted in a sneer, but the corners of his eyes bent down in terror, tearing at the corners. He pressed himself back against the tree, trying to pull away from the wolf’s gamy breath. “You’re going to break my legs.” He was obviously struggling to sound nonchalant, but his lower lip trembled, making his voice warble.

“I doubt it, Mister… Parson,” Alex groaned loudly from his sprawl at the river’s edge, the last of his clothes pinned under rock, soaking away the stains in the current. “Dancer likes to play with his food.” As long as he kept the back of his head in the water, the throbbing in his head kept itself to a dull ache, but the sense of spiders crawling across his brain refused to go away. In one hand, he jingled the man’s keys; in the other, he held aloft their assailant’s wallet. He brought the folded calfskin back down in front of his face and squinted at it anew. “You know, Tom, you’re pretty young for an assassin.”

“Assassins kill people,” Parson spat back at him, immediately shying away afterwards as Dancer’s growl intensified. “I’m a game hunter. See my licence?”

Alex held up a laminated rectangle. “Right here. Says big and small game, includes cougars.” He flicked his wrist, sending the license adrift on the river, following the arc that Parson’s pistols had taken earlier. “If you’re lucky, somebody’ll find that. If not, they’ll find what’s left of you first. Who told you we were here?”

At that, Parson was silent, his lips pressed into a tight, flat line. He leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes.

Alex hauled himself to his feet, then slumped to one knee as a fresh blast of pain throbbed through the back of his head. With one hand on his knee, he forced himself to stand, then staggered over to their captive. He dropped next to Shadowdance, watching Parson carefully. “Listen, Tom… I can call you that, right?” A grin briefly flashed across his face, but slipped away just as fast, leaving behind a distasteful solemnity. “You came here to kill us. At least one, if not all of us. Right now, your guns are gone, you’ve got a Child of Wolf sitting on your legs, and it’s a long way back to your car. You have two options: you can start being cooperative….” He paused for emphasis. “Or I can let nature take its course.”

Only the distant buzz of a yellowjacket nest and the ripple of the river answered Alex’s threat after several seconds. He glanced at Dancer, then back to the Shepherd, pursing his lips and shrugging. “Suit yourself.” He pushed himself back to his feet and walked back to the river, ignoring Shadowdance’s eyes, stepping lightly carefully to keep Parson from seeing him stagger. He closed his eyes as he struggled into his jeans, trying to trying to block out the rattling in his head. Great Mother…. The words came, but then failed, and Alex let out a sigh. Now what? I can’t kill him. I can’t let him go. If there’s a way out of this mess, I pray You show me what it is. A familiar scent caught his nostrils and he smiled, not turning his head. “Briar.”

The Child of Rabbit stopped as she approached. “How… did you…?”

Alex turned, grinning and cupping the bear-claw necklace against his chest. “Scent. Speaking of which….” He motioned her over, then began sorting through the bundles of leaves in her arms, taking a few and twisting them between his palms, then sniffing. “These should work… they smell about right.” He took half a dozen and held them in the water, then crushed them together into a poultice, which he pressed gingerly to the back of his head. He drew in a deep breath through his nostrils, the scent of anise swirling in his nose. “That’s going to hurt for days,” he grumbled, his voice low. “By the way, thank you.”

Briar’s head cocked to the side. “For what?”

Alex turned and nodded towards the captive Shepherd. “If you hadn’t hit him, he’d have shot me.” He grinned. “I thought rabbits ran from predators.”

Briar’s ears flicked in response. “We run until we can’t, and then we fight back.” She glanced at Parson and shrugged. “There was no running from him.”

Alex sighed. “Tell me about it. Now that we caught him, though… now what?” He looked down at the ground, grimacing and shifting the poultice against the knot at the base of his skull. “I’m running out of ideas, fast.”

Briar rested a paw on Alex’s shoulder. “I wish Watcher were back,” she confided. “He’d know what to do.”

At that, Alex snapped his head up, though the stars swimming in front of his eyes made him groan. “Watcher.” He gestured to the Child of Rabbit, motioning her towards the sweat lodge. “Stoke the fire.” Her ears flattened against her head, but she nodded and dashed into the leather tent. He followed stiffly, then sank to his knees beside the hide on which Watcher had spread out his collection, sniffing and occasionally biting small bits of stem or twig, then grabbing a bunch into a pile. Great Mother, I am as Your cub, he thought as he searched. All I can ask is, let me be wrong about this. “Dancer!” He shouted, ignoring the pain. “Get Parson into the tent.”

The grey-furred wolf let out a confused whine. “Alex?”

Alex shook his head, pressing the poultice tightly to his neck and then scooping up the assembled pile. “Do it, Dancer. I hope… no, I fear I know what’s going on.” He stepped into the lodge, pausing briefly as the fresh wash of heat from the flames in the pit hit him. He stepped to the side, then squatted over his heels as Shadowdance escorted Parson into the tent, letting the flap drop behind him. Briar’s paw landed on one of Tom’s shoulders, the Child of Wolf’s on the other, pushing him to the ground.

Alex stared across the flames at his captive, trying to catch the man’s eyes. “Do you remember your dreams, Tom?”

At that, Parson’s veneer cracked. For a few seconds, almost too fast for Alex’s eyes to catch, Parson’s brows knit, and his cheeks rose in a squint, the corners of his eyes tightening in fear. “I don’t dream,” he spat as the moment passed.

Alex didn’t respond; he just looked to the Children of Nature, who were exchanging glances of their own. Shadowdance gave a brief wag of his tail, and Briar’s ears flicked forward. At that, he let his gaze settle back down on Tom, tossing the bundle of dried plants in his hands onto the fire. Almost immediately, a thick billow of smoke rose from the flames. “Tell me about your dreams, Tom,” Alex said, keeping his voice level. “Tell me where you dream.”

“I told you,” Parson sneered again. “I. Don’t. Dream.”

Alex shook his head. “Everyone dreams, Tom. Tell me yours. Are you in a forest? Is it a mountainside? Are you underground? Try to remember.”

Tom’s face contorted as if in physical pain. “I told you—” he repeated, when suddenly his face went slack, his eyes widening. “Forest.” The word seemed more dropped than spoken. “Sparse, with lots of ground cover.”

A smile slowly spread across Alex’s face. “Tell me about the weather, Tom. Is it warm? Cold? Day or night? Is it sunny or raining?”

“Snow.” Tom’s reply was too fast to be invented. “It’s… dusk, or just before. After sunset, but still with enough light to see.”

Alex nodded, then took a deep breath. “Close your eyes, Tom. Feel the heat of the fire, and remember. Listen to it crackling in front of you, and feel the wind on your back.” His voice settled into a steady rhythm, a gentle rise-and-fall that, combined with the smoke, quickly had Parson breathing deeply, his eyes closed, body slumping forward, held carefully upright by the two Children of Nature steadying him. “The sun has disappeared beyond the horizon, but the last rays of light are still more than enough to see.” His own eyes closed as he tried to call to mind the scene he was describing. “A light layer of white snow covers the ground, and more flakes steadily fall from the sky….”

Slowly, Alex pried his fingers off of the fir tree, jaw clenched as he stepped out from behind his cover. The man standing on its other side was surprisingly young, his cheeks still round with baby fat and dotted with stubble. His hair was dark, buzzed close on the sides and barely longer on top, and the bags under his eyes were yellowed and faintly puffy as if from too little sleep. His camouflage jacket was a size too large and hung off of his shoulders to reveal a white tank-top pulled over a light paunch. The jeans he wore were faded, the knees permanently wrinkled from wear. He looked like he wanted to grow up to be a biker.

A glowing red dot wavered next to the man’s right boot, and Alex followed it up to the gun in his hand. “You don’t need that,” Alex said, trying to keep his voice level and his heart out of his throat.

“You never can tell,” the other man said, grinning. “These woods aren’t exactly friendly. Now turn around and put your hands on the tree.” He flicked the wrist holding the revolver, nodding in emphasis.

Alex did as he was told, eyes closing as he turned towards the fir; the bark was rough against his skin. “What do you want?”

“That’s a good question,” the man riposted. “Why don’t you answer it?”

Alex’s fingers shook against the trunk of the tree, and he clutched at it to try to still them. He tried to speak, but no words would pass his suddenly-dry lips, stuck to swollen and sticky tongue. I want to go home! he screamed inside his head, but nothing came out of his mouth.

A low chuckle interrupted his attempts. “Was that your car I saw on the way in? Four miles north of here?” Alex could hear the grin in his voice. “Looked pretty bad, what with the two flat tires and the broken windscreen. I called a tow truck for you. I guess I’m just a Good Samaritan.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed; his car had been in good shape when he arrived. “Bastard,” he spat in return; it was the first word he managed to force himself to say, and he instantly regretted it, the bottom falling out of his stomach even as the bear-mind loomed within.

The dot of light that Alex had seen at the man’s feet suddenly lit up next to one of his hands on the tree, shaking slightly against the trunk. “Where… are… the… rest?” Each word came out as a distinct sentence unto its own, deliberate and even.

A warm wetness spread across Alex’s jeans, followed by a flush in his cheeks. A chill ran down his spine and his knees began to buckle. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. His stomach knotted in fear. I can’t do this. I can’t— His fingers clenched against the fir tree, nails digging into the bark, and he inhaled sharply, ignoring the sour stink of his own fear. Great Mother— Words deserted him, but he didn’t care. They wouldn’t help him. They couldn’t help him. The bear-mind filled his thoughts, smothering his fear. He forced himself to breathe out, then in again. Out, and in. Ignoring the rapidly cooling stain over his crotch, the quivering laser pointer next to his left hand, and everything else; he leaned against the tree, and prayed.

A cold, metallic clack rang out as the hammer snapped back into place. “I won’t ask again. Where are the others?”

Alex didn’t answer; his focus remained inward, on his breathing, on the bear-mind within his own. His eyes stayed closed, the air moving in and out of his nostrils, carrying the sharp tang of his urine, the fading smell of his sweat. He was shaking, still, but the fear that had gripped him before had largely faded. His lips moved in slow meditations, attentions completely turned inward. In his mind, the image of a tan-furred hare, scampering madly towards him, zigzagging erratically as she charged. Her ears were flat against her head, her eyes showing white all the way around, but she was running towards him, not away.

Alex snapped open his eyes to the sounds of rustling grasses and paws frantically pounding the ground caught his ear. “Do you hear that?”

The dot of light wavered, then lowered. “Yeah, I do,” the man agreed. “Don’t move.” Alex heard the shuffling of fabric and then a second heavy metal clunk. “Damn rabbits….”

The bottom fell out of Alex’s stomach, a fresh wave of panic flooding him. “Briar!” The word was out of him before he had time to think, a bellow that sent him lurching off of the tree, slapping at the man’s arm with his hand and then barreling into him bodily. He pulled the trigger late, the bullet flying wide into the trees but still sending Alex sprawling to the ground, his hands clapped over his ears. Then something slammed into the back of his skull and stars flashed in his vision, adding to the sensory overload.

The spiders in Alex’s brain, almost forgotten, flooded back with a vengeance. A second sharp kick to his back sent a spasm of nausea down his spine. He wanted to curl into a ball, to wrap his arms around his head, to escape the pain and fear, but the bear-mind roared and drove him to roll onto his back, to grapple the man’s legs. Heedless of the other gun, Alex forced himself to his knees, then half-fell against his assailant, trying to grab him.

A familiar scent hammered his senses, and then a blurred shadow passed overhead. Alex opened his eyes, squinting to focus them as the hare that had moments before been charging the two men suddenly unfolded, body twisting, stretching. In midair, it turned, seemingly in slow-motion, and then Briar slammed both hind-paws into the other man’s chest with a sickening crunch, sending him slamming into the tree, then sprawling to the ground in a twisted tangle of limbs. The Child of Rabbit twisted as she fell, landed next to Alex, and rolled into a crouch in a single easy motion, then skittered sideways and darted back, turning to run back into the trees.

“Briar!” Alex cried out again, his voice hoarse. His head throbbed with every syllable, but he forced himself to his feet to stagger drunkenly towards the Child of Rabbit. “Stop! Stop! It’s…” He lurched backwards, waving an arm at the other man, now sprawled on the ground. “Go get… Dancer. Please. Need his help.” Alex dropped to his knees, grabbing the discarded guns and tossing them aside before dropping on top of the other man and pressing a hand into his throat to stop him from struggling. “Move and you’re dead,” he growled, looking blearily down at their disarmed attacker.

Briar hesitated at the words, looking down at Alex’s hand, but at the other man’s weak gurgle, she looked back to the shaman-in-training and nodded before dashing into the woods. Once she was gone, Alex looked down at their attacker, tightening his grip on the other man’s neck. “Now,” he said darkly. “I’ll take you to them.”

That thought, in turn, led to others. Just how was he going to find Briar, anyway? The Child of Rabbit was surely foraging for more roots and leaves to treat the wolf, or else she was scrounging for food. She’d be on full alert for predators, and that would almost certainly include an inquisitive Child of Man snooping about the forest. He could call out to her, and those ears would surely pick up his voice, but would that startle her towards or away from him? He shook his head, chuckling. Sometimes it was so hard to predict the minds of prey species.

At that, he laughed aloud, stopping for a moment to lean against the scratchy bark of a tree, his shirtless back pressed into the rough texture, feeling it along the length of his spine. Just what am I, anyway, Alex wondered, scratching at his unkempt beard with the nails of one hand. Running around in the woods like some crazed hermit, hanging out with talking animals and living out hypnosis- and drug-induced hallucinations to find my inner bear, which turned out not to be there. Now I’m trying to find a giant rabbit that hops with a limp. Could this get any more surreal?

Is it really that strange, though? he asked himself as he stretched, arching back against the pine tree, savoring every prick and rub of the bark through the remains of his work shirt. I mean, it’s not like I did any of this against my will. In fact, none of this really felt that crazy when it happened. It all felt… right. Right in ways that my old life never did. It felt like it would one day make some kind of sense, even if it didn’t at the moment. There’s an order to all of this, one that rings true with me, even if I only understand about half of everything I’m seeing and hearing. I passed out the first time I saw Watcher in the flesh, but meeting Shadowdance hardly fazed me, and Briar’s more a curiosity than anything else. Anyone else would’ve run gibbering by now, but… but I haven’t. I’m not scared, just envious.

He chuckled at the admission, lowering his head and closing his eyes. Besides, what else is there for me to do? My day job will have been long gone by now; without a phone call or a doctor’s note, they’ll have mailed a pink slip and my last paycheck to whatever is left of my apartment. Most of my possessions were destroyed in the blast, no doubt. Everything I had, everything I was, is gone. There really isn’t any going back, and I’m not sure I’d want to return, even if I could. Turning my back on all of this, just when I feel like I’m about to understand it all… even if I can’t be one of them, I want to help them, and that means staying until this threat of the Shepherds is gone, and Watcher is back.

A smile of pleasure settled onto Alex’s face, and he rolled his shoulders against the rough back of the tree, just as he had in that dream-trip not too long ago, that quest into what Watcher had dubbed his soulscape, looking for Bear. Ignoring the human-mind’s protests of cuts and splinters, he sunk into the now of the physical act, relishing the sensation. The warm scrape of the pine against his skin was a balm on his emotions, a chance to relax and let the bear-mind rise to the fore, his conscious thoughts suspended for a brief time as his body moved and responded to the heavy caress of the wood.

When the nerves all across his back were raw and singing, Alex stepped away from the pine tree, grinning wildly. I may not be a Child of Bear, he decided, words returning to him, but I’m certainly no Child of Man. I don’t suppose that it really matters what I am, as long as I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. For now, that means finding Briar and getting her back to the camp. From there, making sure Dancer’s okay, and then going to find Watcher. He saved my life; it’s the least I can do.

That thought full in his mind, Alex dropped heavily to one knee in front of the tree, head bowed, limp strands of long-unwashed hair falling across his face, tickling his nose and ruffling the edges of his unkempt beard. One hand rested on the ground, helping him balance; the other went to the claw hanging from his neck. His lips moved, forming the words to a silent prayer. Great Mother, I am as Your cub. I ask for the strength to see these things through to their end, to find Briar, to heal Shadowdance, and to protect Watcher. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to think of more to say, but everything had already been said. He merely knelt, eyes closed, face turned towards the earth, holding those thoughts in his mind.

As the moment passed and he felt his attentions wandering to the world around him, that strangely familiar, spider-like sensation began to creep across his brain.

Alex’s head snapped up, his eyes scanning around for sign of the old wolf, but even as he looked around, something suggested to him that it wasn’t Watcher setting off whatever sense this was. This had a raw tang to it, prickly, more like pins or spines than a simple itch. The bear-mind pressed against his senses, heavy and dominant. The hand at his chest slipped to the ground, knuckles against the earth as he crouched. Unconsciously he sniffed at the air, shuffling forward, staying as low as he could. He was no wolf and could never be one, but that was no reason to charge blindly into the unknown.

Had someone asked him in that moment where he was going, or why, doubtless the words would’ve escaped him, and yet he moved with a deliberateness that belied his lack of knowledge. He knew what path to take, which steps to make, which mosses would mask his footfalls and which hid twigs that might snap and give away his approach towards… towards whatever it was that was setting off that sensation in his mind. The feelings intensified as he moved, shuffling down seemingly random pathways, the only obvious sign of progress between his ears, lurking within the bear-mind’s unease. He didn’t know for what or whom he was searching; he only knew that he’d know it when he found it.

Something snapped in the trees off to his left, out of his field of vision, and he spun his head, squinting into the forest. A moment later, he dropped again to one knee, mostly shielded behind a heavyset fir. He did his best to hold still, his breath stuck in his throat as he listened to the sound of boots crunching through the undergrowth. The steps were cautious, mosses crinkling and dried needles barely rustling as his target approached. Whoever it was, he knew how to be silent. If Alex had been on his own, he’d have come crashing through the trees, audibly setting himself up as a target; only the bear-mind gave him any edge at all.

The steps stopped, close enough that Alex could hear the other person’s breathing. The pins and needles on the inside of his skull jangled in agitation. The bear-mind rumbled irritably, and Alex had to press his hands against the tree to stop them from clutching his head. Another step. Then another, this time past his hiding place. Alex rose, turned and waited for the other to come into view.

He turned, getting his paws beneath him again carefully, stretching awkwardly to prevent his muscles from seizing. Here and there throughout his body he felt twinges of soreness that went beyond the complaints of overtired muscles. One foreleg in particular seemed ready to collapse if he wasn’t careful, probably pulled in an odd direction while his claws were lodged in the buck’s shoulder. He grinned at that, tongue lolling, savoring the memory.

That pain, unfortunately, meant a challenge in returning the deer to the lodge. Lugging a carcass any distance when he was healthy would have been a challenge. Still weak from the poison and now injured from the hunt, he almost considered abandoning the feast, or eating his fill and then catching some smaller game for Alex. The thought made him cringe reflexively, though, wolf-mind rising within him. However strange the Chlid of Man was, Alex had helped save his life and was still tending his sickness. He deserved no less than to be treated as a packmate.

Shadowdance sat back on his haunches, whining softly, licking his nosepad in apprehension as he arched his back, willing his body back into a more human stature. His legs stretched, throwing him forward briefly onto his bad foreleg with a muffled yelp. He steadied himself on his other paw while the digits grew into proper fingers, tipped in short black claws. Soundlessly, smoothly, the rest of his proportions shifted away from the lupine, towards the human, until where before had crouched an unremarkable animal, now knelt the Child of Wolf, his ears back against his head, balancing on his knees and good arm, cradling the injured one to his chest.

When the changes had run their course, Shadowdance rose to a crouch, his tail hanging limp behind him. Just thinking about trying to lift the deer onto his shoulders, even if it was smaller than average, made his injured arm throb. Complaining, though, wasn’t going to move the carcass any closer to the lodge or the others. He turned the body as best as he could, letting as much of the blood drain as possible to lighten his load, then squirmed his shoulders under the buck’s body, letting the legs drape around in front of his chest. The added weight against his shoulder sent shooting pains through the limb, but he ignored them as he worked, letting the wolf-mind ride high within. He was alive, and his packmates needed his help. Beyond that, any physical concern was at best a secondary consideration.

The buck’s uneven weight made him stagger as he walked, but with the bulk of the load on his good shoulder, the ache in his other was manageable. Lifting his muzzle, he inhaled deeply, drawing in the scents floating on the wind. There, hovering in eddies and currents in the cool, dry breeze, came the traces of sweet smoke from the lodge, revealing the way back to the makeshift camp. As soon as he registered the direction, his feet began moving, his tail and ears perking as he thought of sharing his catch with the others.

Finding the game couldn’t have taken him more than an hour, and hunting it down still less, but in that time, he had run quite a distance. Injured and burdened, the sun had vanished behind the trees by the time he could hear the crackling of the fire within the makeshift hut as well as smell the smoke it produced. By then, other scents had joined the first, Watcher’s faded musk, Briar’s and Alex’s more immediate ones, and the clean bite of fresh water. Shadowdance sighed, at once grateful to be close to the others and sharply longing to stand within the borders of his own Protectorate again.

Soon, he told himself. The flames were gone, his sickness cured. Some amount of pain would linger, he knew, while he helped heal the land, but it was a suffering he could accept, knowing that his home would thrive again one day. He had but to return and begin working on repairing the damage that had been done, tending the trees, herding game back into the area and then hunting it to acceptable levels as the vegetation grew back to acceptable levels. If he worked hard, it might even return to how it was within his lifetime. His ears flattened briefly, tail drooping at the realization, but he had Pledged himself. Nurturing the land was his sworn duty, one he would follow even unto death.

Shadowdance barked a short laugh at himself. Here he was, worrying about the future like some Child of Man. For how long had he survived happily in the ever-present now of the wolf-mind, rising from that state only when necessity or desire dictated it? He let his catch slip from his shoulder, hitting the ground with a wet thud as he threw back his head and hoarsely howled, a weak but triumphant cry that rang throughout the clearing.

The flap of the lodge flew back at the sound, revealing the overgrown face of the Child of Man, Alex, the one who had served as his healer in Watcher’s absence. His tangled brown beard was shot through with grey, as was the hair atop his head, pulled back into an unkempt braid and tied with a leather strap. “Dancer! Where the hell have you been?” The man’s voice was a mixture of relief and anger. “You’ve been gone since sunrise!”

The wolf’s howl trailed away to silence, his muzzle falling naturally into a grin as he dragged the deer carcass forward with his good arm. “Hunting,” he said breathily, hunching forward, his injured arm cradled against his chest. “I brought enough for everyone. Where’s Briar?” He sniffed, but the rabbit’s scent was hours old.

Alex scowled, stepping out of the smoke-filled hut. “Out looking for you, hopping around the woods on one foot and hopefully not falling over. You could have told us you were going.”

“Would you have tried to stop me?” Shadowdance asked as he approached the lodge. He tried to drag his catch with him, but two ineffectual tugs on the hind leg told him that he was in no condition to move himself, much less the body of the buck. Weariness overriding excitement, pain displacing pride, the Child of Wolf crumpled to the ground beside his prey, tongue lolling, sprawled helplessly across the grass like a cub.

“Probably,” Alex admitted tersely, his anger showing. “You’re in no shape to hunt yet, certainly not—” His voice then cut out suddenly, his nostrils flaring almost humorously. “You’re hurt!” His temper instantly defused as he dashed out of the lodge. His chest was bare, his shirt ragged at the hems and missing half its buttons, revealing a matted thatch of grey-brown to match his beard, his once-pale skin now tanned by wind and sun. His jeans were nearly black, slick with grime and dirt ground into them despite his repeating attempts to scrub them clean in the stream. He dropped to his knees next to the fallen wolf, fingers lightly tracing through his fur. “Turn over! Let me get a look at you.”

Startled and a little cowed by the sudden tone of authority, the wolf rolled over with a groan, then collapsed back against the ground, panting heavily. In addition to the patches of missing fur that had been singed by flame—real or imagined the healer still didn’t know—were a set of angry red scrapes, the fur torn loose in several short, violent scratches. Blood caked and crusted in the cuts, the fur beneath them matted with crimson. “What happened to you?” Alex’s tension returned, wincing as he brushed dirt away from the wounds.

“The deer bucked,” Shadowdance replied between breaths. Despite the smile on his muzzle, he still whined slightly as Alex pulled on the fur around the tender skin. “He put up a good fight.”

Alex hmphed, unimpressed. “He could’ve killed you, in your condition. What else hurts? That’s not the only thing wrong with you, I can tell.” Without waiting for an answer, the stand-in medicine man lifted his hands and slowly sweeping them over the grey wolfman’s fur, his fingertips just touching the skin beneath, a gentle, almost maternal touch from neck to knees. “No broken bones, but your left shoulder’s swollen. You should let me sling that.”

The grey-furred wolf grunted, pushing himself up onto his knees. “Later, when I’ve returned,” he said, sounding much better than when he first arrived back at the clearing. “Someone has to go find Briar.” He tried to stand, but Alex’s hands were at his shoulders before he could move.

“Slow down, Dancer,” Alex said gruffly, scowling down at his patient. “You’re not going anywhere. You’ve already had your fun today. Now, sit down and eat. I’ll get her back.” He gave the wolf a gentle clap on the shoulder with the flat of his hand, then stepped forward towards the wall of greenery, in the direction he remembered the Child of Rabbit taking that morning. “She’s probably just stopped to eat something on the way.”

Shadowdance watched Alex walk away from the lodge, his eyes flicking back and forth between him and his meal, and he slunk towards the deer carcass, but then abruptly turned his head back towards the Child of Man. “But… how will you find her?”

Alex paused briefly, his hand resting on one of the old pines near the edge of the clearing. His fingers tensed against it, feeling the rough texture against his skin. He dug his fingernails beneath the bark, clawing at the wood beneath, pressing more dirt beneath his ragged, black nails, “I don’t know, Dancer,” he called back to the wolf. “I just know that I will.” Then he was gone from sight, his cloth-wrapped feet whispering against the fallen leaves and needles of the forest floor.