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>"This looks to be as shallow as it'll get."

>You let out a small groan, eyeing up the dark water.

>"Come on, Anon, all your stuff's gonna be fine. That bag is waterproof."

>"Not my gun..."

>Talia grunts, unzipping another waterproof bag.

>"Hold it above your head, then," she says, taking off her boots. "We still don't have any carry bags long enough for it."

>"At this rate, we might as well just stay naked."

>The she-wolf snorts, giving you a dirty look as her pants come off.

>"...Maybe we should, you horny little bastard."

>The small ponds and lakes have been getting in your way ever since you started for the day. They were what mad you stop last night, too.

>As the sun went down, the two of you just kept walking, hand in hand. But even with Talia's wolf eyes, she didn't want to risk navigating the water in the dark. Getting lost in the night was easy enough.

>Part of you thinks she did it so you'd finally rest. She was probably right to do so.

>The she-wolf didn't tell you how far off the border was, but you can't imagine it's far. You know this part of the border is dotted with little bodies of water, you saw it on the map.

>It’s scale just didn't do them justice.

>When you woke up, you realized the one you camped next to was huge. It was like most you’ve encountered, widest east to west, like someone clawed a giant gash in the earth.

>That didn’t make trying to cross it any easier, though. It was still a swim of 30 or 40 feet.

>For a while the two of you made your way around them, but by mid morning your nerves won out. You began crossing them, taking your chances with leeches and sharp stones.

>Talia's frequent glances behind the two of you helped matters none. She said it was just nothing every time you called her on it, but you knew damn well what day it is.

>It's Sunday -- the day of your trial. And as of a few hours ago, you've both missed your appointment.

>It's open season.

>You make sure to leave a good amount of air in the bag, wishing for the hundredth time today that you'd brought along wet-shoes. Even rubber sandals would be nice. The bottom of all the ponds you've come across has been pure silt, coating your feet to the ankle in a clayey slime.

>That, and even if you're gonna be staying... natural from here on out, you still need something tougher than your bare soles.

>Talia snickers as you start to wade in, slowing down ahead of you to watch.

>"Fuck off," you growl, watching the water slowly creep up your thighs.

>"I can see it shrinking," the she-wolf says, leering as you take a sharp breath.

>"F-fuck you..."

>You shudder when the water rises past your groin, the experience brisk as ever. The water isn't very cold, but something about wading in naked captures the feeling.

>"You pack any soap?" you ask. You're up to your chest now, and raise your 1901 high over your head.

>"No," the she-wolf says, hardly in up to her stomach. "That'd make us even easier to track."

>"You should have," you say. "On top of just smelling like you normally do, you're gonna reek of wet dog when we're done."

>Talia gives you a sarcastic chuckle; you yelp when she nearly splashes you.

>"Hey, watch the gun!"

>"You're not springtime-fresh either, Anon...”

>You say nothing as the water comes up to your neck. You curse softly before taking a deep breath and jumping off the spongy bottom, kicking forward.

>It's not easy, but you make it the 20 feet or so to the other side, able to stand again.

>Talia's ahead of you as usual, water already dripping off her tail.

>"And I thought you liked my stink, you bastard!" she says. She does a full-body shake when she reaches dry land, kicking her legs a little; you pull your gun back, even if it's plenty far away.

>"I said 'scent.' That's different."

>Her laughter echoes off the trees as you slosh onto shore.

>"And what would you know about 'scent?'" she asks, snorting as you carefully lay the 1901 down. "You're a human, you can hardly smell anything at all!"

>"Yeah, well, I can smell the difference between good stink and bad stink."

>You crouch down and unzip the bag, pulling out your shirt and boots. Dripping water betrays Talia’s presence, her paws impossibly quiet on the leafy bank.

>You sigh as the big, wet she-wolf crouches down over you, pressing in and squeezing you from behind with her thighs.

>"You want a little refresher?" she asks, pulling your head back against her.

>"Don't need one," you say, toweling off your feet. "I could smell you when you were standing over there."

>She lets out a soft growl, and gently digs her claws into your chest. You ignore her, and lean back against her to put on your boots.

>"What're you doing?" she asks. "I kinda like that naked idea you had."

>"I'm sure you do," you say, "but not all of us have rough paws."

>"I'll have you know they're very soft and sensitive."

>"Uh-huh."

>She backs off with a huff, letting you finish.

>"Rest of you is gonna stay naked, right?"

>"You're gonna be ahead of me anyway," you reply, toweling off your chest with the shirt. Don't want the 1901's strap getting wet.

>"And give you a free show?" she snorts. "I don't think so."

>You can hear her tail wagging as you put the shirt away, water droplets spraying out on the leaves.

>"But you leering at my ass is fine, right?"

>"I never said I'd be doing that," the she-wolf says, watching you get your pack on. You shift it into place with a bounce and tighten the straps; it's not your backside she's staring at...

>"Never said you wouldn't be, either."

>The she-wolf sighs as you set off, walking alongside you this time.

>"Fine. I guess we'll both have to go without eye candy..."

>You crest a rise, and find with some relief that there's still land ahead. More than once, the two of you waded out or walked around a bit of water, only to find that your destination was a peninsula.

>A few of the lakes were bad, mainly because they were big. Swimming across wouldn't be worth it with all the energy it'd take, and it likely wouldn't save much time. Talia hadn't brought an inflatable kayak or anything, since she wasn't intending on needing a boat before she'd gotten settled. That left going around as the only option.

>You're not sure how much distance that had cost you, and now, you need to know.

>"Talia, where are we?" you ask. "How far?"

>"We're close," the she-wolf grunts. "All the --"

>"--All the lakes and ponds mean we're close to the border," you finish. "I get it. But can't we get a little more precise? More accurate?"

>Talia stays quiet, not looking down at you.

>"Are we --"

>"I don't know."

>Her voice is firm, but her steps aren't steady.

>"I don't know if we're across yet, Anon. These maps ain't detailed enough for me to keep track, I -- I can't use the ponds for reference. There's thousands of them around here, and they're all practically the same."

>She sighs.

>"Some ain’t even big enough to show up."

>"What about the lakes?" you ask. "Those are big enough, right?"

>"Same problem," she says. "They'll show up, but without spending a whole lot of extra time, no way of telling which one we're walking around."

>You grunt. You suppose that's true. Even now, you're having a tough time measuring progress. The woods have stayed pretty consistent, all short undergrowth beneath taller trees, thankfully none of it very dense. There's more sections of a swampy ground, where felled trees rot among layers of leaves, but it looks a lot like yesterday aside from that.

>There’s less signs of human habitation, too. No more fallow fields or abandoned roads. The closest you've seen are ancient beer bottles alongside game trails, from some wayward hunter or hiker decades ago.

>It gives you some comfort.

>Talia picked this spot to cross the border specifically because it was remote, away from the more popular areas for kayakers and wilderness enthusiasts. Not seeing any portage marks or litter is a good sign.

>But you still find yourself unsatisfied.

>"What about GPS?"

>"We'd know where we are," Talia grunts, "but so would they. And their friends across the border would be much more likely to come after us if they've got a ping on our location."

>After a few moments, you see her stiffen. She grabs your shoulder and stops you, looking down with narrowed eyes.

>"Fuck, you killed your phone, right?" she asks. "They can use those, too."

>"Yeah, it ran out of juice before I found you. Was going to charge it back up, but then... you know."

>"Yeah," the she-wolf sighs, starting off again, "I know."

>You follow, only sneaking one glance down at her bare, white, full moon. She cocks her head back at you after a little bit, but it's not about her ass.

>"You left it there, right?"

>"No? It's in my pack."

>Talia stiffens again, stopping and turning to you.

>"Why the hell not?"

>"It's dead, Talia, it --"

>"It's dead weight," she corrects, "and the instant you power it on, they'll have a new fix on us. There's no point in keeping it."

>You look up at her, her ears slightly pulled back.

>"Dropping it here would only confirm that we came through," you say. "SIM card isn't active, so we're fine. We can take it out when we get wherever we're going."

>She stares at you for a little bit, before continuing on with a quiet grunt. You're content to keep things that way, letting the forest ambiance fill your ears.

>The wind blows gently through the leaves, carrying the sounds of far-off birds and the droning of insects and frogs. Your footfalls on the soft ground are muted, while Talia's are silent.

>The sun is out again today; you'd be worried about getting burned if you weren't under the canopy most of the time.

>You wonder how much protection the trees will give come winter. The snow has been coming later each year, but the cold is always reliable. There's still a few months before the ground freezes, but you worry anyway. You don't know how long it'll take the two of you to find somewhere to settle.

>In fact, you don't know what the plan is at all when you succeed.

>If you succeed.

>"So, you have fur," you say, "but how am I supposed to survive the winter?"

>"There are towns," Talia replies, "Tiny ones. We'll get you something warm."

>"With what money?"

>"What we've got," she says, "and what we earn. If what I brought to get us started ain't enough, we... we'll figure something out.

>There's something in the tone of her voice. You recognize it, from when she was talking about progress towards the border.

>Again, you're screwing up plans.

>But now doesn't seem like the time to make a scene of it. Not when the two of you are so close.

>You can worry about how you'll survive in NSE when you actually get there.

>You keep quiet through the middle of the day -- about that, at least.

>There's much cursing and groaning from the both of you each time a body of water gets in your way. They're mostly smaller now, so skirting around them is easy, but it's still time lost.

>Your thoughts are on that now. On the unknown time limit the two of you have.

>Talia tries to keep you distracted, delighted that you've decided to stay nude. And admittedly, it works.

>You play along, doing your best to return all her jabs and teasing remarks.

>"Albino" is met with "mangy cur," "beanpole" is met with "furball."

>Her overbearing worry about you getting scraped and scratched by stray branches is met with the word "vulnerable."

>The she-wolf's ears pull back at that one, and she slugs you good.

>"I might keep you down there for good next time..." she mutters; you clench your fists, but it's too late.

>You can see her glancing down at you with a smug smirk, watching your pace slow slightly as your member bounces in front of you.

>"My, Anon," she says, "I didn't know you packed a dowsing rod!"

>"Shut up."

>"Or wait, is that supposed to be a sundial?"

>"Fuck off..."

>Talia shifts a bit closer, draping an arm across your shoulders. Her hips rub against you with each stride.

>"You know, it's not nice to tease like that, Anon," she says, her tail wagging and brushing your back. You push at her with an angry grunt, but she ignores you.

>She gives a throaty chuckle when you stiffen -- your whole body, now -- as her claws dig into your bare chest.

>"If we weren't in a hurry," she says, voice huskier than usual, "I might just punish you for it..."

>You can feel the vibrations of her hum as she pulls you closer against her. She laughs at your groan, but yelps when you give her a smack on the ass.

>The meaty sound echos off the trees, and you're laughing before she even pushes you away.

>"A-non!" she gasps, giving you an open-mouthed smile.

>"How's that for teasing?"

>The she-wolf growls at you, though her tail is wagging wildly. She turns to the south, her thumbs in the straps of her pack.

>You hear soft whines, her ears twitching; she's hesitant.

>"Talia, no," you say. She turns back to you, and bares her teeth in an almost evil grin.

>"Talia, yes," she growls, letting the bag fall.

>Ahh, shit.

>"Talia, now is not the time," you say, though you ditch your bag. "I'm not gonna fuck you until we're over the border."

>She stalks forward slowly, and cocks her head with a chuckle.

>"Who said you'd be doing the fucking?"

>You turn and bolt.

>"Come on, Anon," she yells, "let's see you make those noises again!"

>You run, your feet kicking up dirt and leaves. You can't feel the stones and twigs beneath them, or the scrape of the undergrowth and branches.

>There's just the wind on your skin, what's in front of you, and the sounds of the horny she-beast behind you.

>"Where are you running?" she asks, those thudding footfalls getting closer. "It's just you and me out here, dumbass!"

>"And the State agents!" you yell back. "Talia, they'll find us!"

>"Then stop running and let's make it quick!"

>You push harder, scrambling over the leaves.

>"Actually, keep running -- you didn't last very long last time anyway!"

>You don't retort, saving your breath. You try juking around a tree, only to sail through the air when a root trips you up. You briefly see the she-wolf careen off the trunk before you're rolling in the leaves and dirt.

>Adrenaline can't block those scrapes and bruises now.

>Before you can get your legs under you, a furry mass pounces heavily on top of you. You get maybe two hits in before her claws find your wrists and grind them into the dirt beside your head.

>Talia huffs as she shifts down your body, pulling her chest off your face. You gasp, partially for air and partially because she just dropped her weight on your hips.

>She looks down at you, panting for a moment before she breaks into that evil smile again.

>"Try -- and stop me," she says, letting go of your wrists.

>Then she's on your lips, and her hands are behind your head and neck.

>The she-wolf cocks her head sideways and forces your lips apart, sliding her tongue in on yours. She ignores your hands on her shoulders and ribs, biting gently at your lips.

>Her tongue fills your mouth with each lap she takes, her warm breath flowing past it. You keep trying to push at her, groaning as you feel her nails dig in and hold your head in place.

>When you feel her teeth scraping further and further up your cheeks, you try with renewed vigor.

>The side of her lupine lips folds over your nose as she pushes you deeper into her mouth, giving you a kiss only her kind can. You grab at her fur now, but she doesn't notice, her upper half glued to yours.

>When her tongue begins to flick at the back of your throat, you feel your toes curl.

>The she-wolf sets her jaw and begins to lap at the back of your mouth, nearly choking you. Your moans come in full force now, and you slap at her in a panic.

>She squeezes her mouth over your face one last time before drawing back, teeth scraping over your cheeks. The pop of her tongue leaving your mouth is masked by your gasps. They barely stop when she pinches your nose closed with her teeth, growling playfully.

>"Give up?" she asks when you can speak again, a hand petting your hair.

>"Yeh... yeah..."

>Talia hums, giving you a kiss on the forehead before shifting around on top of you.

>It takes you a second to realize she's slid herself between your legs, spreading them apart. You groan, feeling her excitement against your groin.

>"I thought... we were... done..." you pant. She pulls close, sliding your legs in the air.

>"Oh no," she purrs, reaching down and grabbing your dick. "I said I'd punish you. Now get ready to --"

>The she-wolf freezes mid-breath.

>Her ears prick, swiveling as she looks off to the side. She pulls off of you after a second and stands tall, staring off into the woods.

>"Talia --"

>She doesn't spare you a word, just holding up a digit. Her tail is low, tensed.

>When you hold your breath, you can hear it.

>A new, different drone, lower than the insects. Engines, punctuated by rotors.

>Oh, fuck.

>"Stay here," Talia says before she starts to run.

>"Talia --"

>"Stay here!" she barks.

>She doesn't elaborate. She hardly hesitates, disappearing in the trees. That adrenaline is back, but you don't think you could catch up.

>Your hands twitch, the sound of the chopper looming large in your mind. You gasp, not realizing you were holding your breath.

>Fuck, get a grip.

>Get a grip.

>Get a grip.

>You think back to the various historical training manuals you've skimmed, all the ones that you saved copies of.

>First thing to do is find cover or concealment from the threat.

>The forest canopy here provides some, but you're still fucked if they have any sensors -- which they might.

>The leaves also won't mean shit if they send someone in on the ground -- which they also might.

>You look around, trying to find something, anything that’ll make for better cover. The terrain isn't severe enough for protective hollows, the undergrowth is too sparse, and the trees aren't thick enough.

>"Fuck!"

>You slam the nearest one, starting to lose your cool. Then you realize it made a cracking noise.

>You look at it closer; the roots are jutting up slightly on one side, the whole tree leaning just a little.

>It's the one that Talia bounced off of earlier.

>You get down and start clawing at the dirt, snapping more roots. The earth is cold and spongy, more than a little damp. You don't know if it's a low spot or if it's something with the tree, but you don't care.

>You haven't made much progress when you hear the clattering of gear. Talia skids to a stop behind you, dropping the packs and guns.

>"What’re you doing?"

>"Making a hole," you say, not stopping. "Tree has exposed roots, and I don't see any other kinda cover."

>She grunts, then shoves you aside.

>"Go hide our shit," she says, digging like a dog. "And get some ground cover."

>You grab the bags and go while she continues to spray dirt. The waterproof packs aren't exactly small, and the camo pattern they've got is only going to work far away. You wander with an aimless urgency, trying to find something to use.

>Then it hits you.

>You dash towards the nearest opening in the trees, finding another blasted lake. You ditch the packs on shore, and scrounge around for a branch.

>The droning is echoing in the open space of the lake; you force yourself to look down and focus. The sun's gaze on your back feels extra harsh.

>You return to the bags when you have a good, large branch, and thread it through the straps. The spongy bottom of the lake squishes between your toes as you wade out with them, looking down.

>For once, the water being murky might be a benefit.

>You take a deep breath and go under. The gear is heavy enough that it'll sink, but the branch is not. You fumble blindly until it's trapped, then go up to check your handwork.

>The branch sticks out from the water just barely. You're close enough to the bank that it'll pass for a sunken log on the ground, and the murky water will disguise it from the air.

>You hope, at least.

>On the way back to the tree, you yank up some viney-looking ground cover, gathering it in your arms until you can hardly see. You nearly fall a few times before you make it back.

>The she-wolf is halfway under the tree now, the dirt mounded off her sides. You curse quietly, dumping the ground cover and pushing the dirt out of her way.

>She doesn't thank you, but she doesn't get the chance. You're already running back for more ground cover -- this isn't going to look pretty, and you'll need all you can get.

>The sound of motors and rotors is definitely louder now.

>As you tear up more camouflage, you begin to realize that it's fairly obvious that you've done so.

>You curse, looking at the bare ground and torn stems. You drop the next load of camouflage off by Talia, clear out more dirt, and run back to the patch of ground cover.

>As you kick leaves and soil over the mangled vegetation, you can't help but think of rotorwash.

>It takes far too long to make the patch of ground match the rest of the forest floor, but there's nothing else for it. Disguising one spot doesn't mean shit if you take all the leaves and detritus out from another.

>When you arrive back at the tree, you face a similar problem. Backdirt is everywhere on the top layer of leaves. You get to spreading it, already looking for good sources of dead leaves to throw on top.

>As you scatter the dirt, the individual thumps of the helicopter blades become distinct.

>But there is a glimmer of hope.

>The hole Talia has made is substantial, her heavy breathing muted by the earth around her.

>It takes you a moment to realize you're panting as well.

>You push though, cleaning the she-wolf's excavation site and tamping it down. Root fragments now stab your feet instead of twigs.

>You only notice the she-wolf going in by the change in sound. The dirt she flings doesn't go as far, landing quietly on the undergrowth you piled close by.

>"Stop trashing the dirt," she says, "we'll need it now!"

>She's right. The slope down into the ghetto bunker is steep, but there's still a lot of space, more than you need or like.

>"Alright, the fuck do we do now?"

>"Backfill, backfill!" she says, motioning towards herself.

>You hesitate a second, feeling like you're about to bury her alive. Then you get over it and start shoving dirt down for her to try and pack solid.

>You're gonna get buried down there with her.

>The two of you don't have time to make a solid wall, but it's strong enough that it isn't collapsing in on you. She holds it still anyway as you drag the tangle of undergrowth over everything, fluffing out the edges as you hear the chopper's roar steady.

>You nearly climb in before you remember the last detail.

>The she-wolf lets out a slight grunt when you slide her gun down to her; it takes her a second to get ready for yours.

>You're fighting the muzzle of the 1901 as you slip beneath the tree, its awkward length accentuated. As you settle, you find yourself pressed up against the damp earthen walls, the warm limbs of your partner, and the cold gunmetal between you.

>You try not to think about all the shit that's on it now, and pull at the ground cover, Talia doing the same.

>You shift the shotgun up, propping the barrel as best you can on the ledge. Your angle is shit, but it's better than nothing.

>Talia pants beside you, her breaths warming the space a little. You look over at her in the dim, double-filtered light; her back is hunched over again, like when she took her sisters' car earlier in the week, on --

>...Oh, God, that was on Monday...

>"Get that barrel back," she whispers, trying to control her breaths. "They'll see it."

>"There's no room."

>"You've got a shitty angle."

>"Better than no angle."

>The she-wolf doesn't reply. Instead, she snakes her arm beneath yours, grabbing your left hand in her right.

>She twines her fingers with yours and squeezes.

>Hard.

>You lean into her a little, steadying your breaths. The sounds of the chopper are muted outside, but you know it's close. You don't think it's moving anymore, which means there's boots on the ground.

>You strain your ears, your breathing shallow.

>The two of you wait for a long, long time.

>You can feel the dirt and sweat creep into your various cuts and scrapes, Talia's fur irritating some scratch on your side. You don't look down, but you think one of her claws is fucked up. It feels different from the rest on the back of your hand.

>But you ignore it all, and focus on the sounds.

>Your breaths.

>Hers.

>Anything outside.

>Eventually you hear them, a few minutes after you felt Talia really tense up.

>Uneven footfalls, the subtle plastic sound of loose gear.

>Then radio noise, the sounds of check-ins.

>When their voices become clear, you're craning your neck up, trying to catch anything through the undergrowth-filled slit.

>"Delta, report."

>"Still just a faint scent, nothing solid," you hear a deep, female voice say. "All muddied up by others. You got the same, Jack?"

>There's a grunt from somewhere else.

>"Yeah, he's got the same."

>Your thumb rests on the 1901's hammer. You still can't see anything, but you can visualize them. Chunky helmets with earholes, bulky vests and rifles. All in a matte black.

>You see a hint of it as one of them passes near the tree, sniffing the air.

>They don't need to hide, not like the two of you do.

>"All units stand by," you hear from the radio; you and Talia freeze, probably just as stiff as the two out there.

>"Hold positions. Birch, we've got bureaus on the line. Connecting you to them now."

>You and Talia stiffen. The two jackboots groan, and you hear their safeties go on.

>Your thumb stays on the hammer as they sling their guns away, polymer and steel rubbing on polyester.

>"Fucking hell," one of them mutters. "Why'd they send us up here anyway? They haven't been here yet. Hell, there hasn't even been a team down to the last known location."

>"Strings," the other says. "Why do you think there's an ATF agent out here with us?"

>Your blood runs cold.

>"It's her case, isn't it?"

>"Yes, but most ATF cases don't get chopper support, especially if it's just for two no-shows. She knows someone, Jack."

>"Why'd she wait until now, then? Targets went dark like a day or two ago, right?"

>Talia squeezes your hand tight; you squeeze her back.

>"My money? Courts wouldn't let her, not until the two of them were confirmed to be no-shows. That's probably why she's so pissed."

>"She does seem like a bitch."

>You somehow smile.

>That quickly changes as a set of idle footfalls come closer and closer.

>They stop, and you hear the ruffle of fabric, and then a zipper.

>Then the sound of liquid spattering.

>"Jesus, Jack!" the female says, "Right in front of me?"

>The smell is strong, and you see it begin to drip in.

>"Jealous?"

>Then you feel it on your hand.

>The one on the gun.

>Somehow the State soldier doesn't hear you click the hammer back, his stream too loud.

>But Talia does.

>Her claws dig in, and you slide your eyes over to her. The soldier blocks most of the feeble light, but what little comes in shines on her eyes.

>They're fierce.

>You keep your hand on the gun, but don't touch the trigger.

>The jackboot above you sighs, his stream petering out. You hear his gear shuffle and clink as he shakes; somehow, the weak wall doesn't collapse.

>You can feel his footsteps as he walks off, his partner giving him some flak.

>You're too busy simultaneously seething and being relieved to pay much attention.

>Talia's grip on your hand lessens slightly; you give it a squeeze, making her look at you.

>Her eyes are softer now. Almost apologetic.

>She looks away, and begins to stroke your arm gently, quietly.

>"Alright, we're pulling out," the voice on the radio says. "Navigation overshot the border for the LZ. Do a quick search of your zone and get back. If you see Agent Birch, do --"

>"--Stay here!"

>Even through the distortion of the radio, you recognize the voice. There's no mistaking it.

>"We need to comb the area, I can smell them! They're here, and we --"

>There's a squawking noise, and the soldiers grunt.

>"Sorry about that. If you see Agent Birch, do not engage. Physically or otherwise. If she wants to cause an interSector incident, she'll do it without us."

>One of the soldiers chuckles, and the other groans.

>"Crazy bitch..."

>You don't feel like you can breathe until you can't hear their gear anymore.

>You don't feel like you can move until the chopper's roar starts getting faint.

>You don't feel Talia next to you until after it's gone.

>When you do, it's because she shudders.

>You see her eyes are wet. She looks at you, and sniffs. It still sounds strange, her nose still swollen.

>"Let's go," she says, her voice only shaking a little.

>You groan as you climb out, your joints stiff. The undergrowth tries to cling to you as you emerge, naked and covered in dirt.

>Your shotgun, similarly caked, hangs by your side as you reach down and pull up the she-wolf's SKS. You clear away the natural netting for her as she slips out.

>The two of you stretch, feeling a few cracks, and then stand like that in the sunlight, staring at each other.

>Her fur is a few shades more brown, her mane a mess filled with bits of root.

>Her claws are dull, some are chipped.

>And she stinks worse than ever.

>You doubt you’re much better.

>The two of you hug anyway, squeezing each other hard as you can manage with one arm.

>You feel her muzzle fold over the back your head, pulling you just a little bit tighter to her chest.

>She shudders again, just once.

>You do too.

>"Where's the gear?" she asks, when the two of you finally pull apart.

>"That way, in a lake. I'll show you."

>"Good," the she-wolf says, following as you lead the way. "You could do with a bath."

>You sigh, going to sling your gun as she chuckles.

>You catch yourself before you do, and thumb the hammer back down.

>You're glad you did.

>You could've had a Negligent Dis --

>Talia grabs you from behind, covering your mouth and yanking you off to the side. You grab at her her hand, but she shushes you as she drags you into a bush.

>"Listen."

>You hold your breath, but you don't hear anything. The she-wolf points, and you slowly begin to hear it.

>Oddly-patterned footsteps, leaves and branches being disturbed. Then comes the breathing, heavy and inconsistent.

>You pull the hammer back, and both of you settle into a crouch. You try to see through the leaves, but it's too dense.

>The long barrel gets in your way again; readying the shotgun without shaking the branches is slow. By the time you do it, you can see her.

>Patricia is hunched over, not quite crawling along the ground some 50 yards away. She's sniffing, a pistol held high as she shuffles along, her breaths ragged.

>You freeze when she bolts upright.

>"I know you two are here!" she yells, her voice echoing among the trees. "I know what you smell like! Come out, and take what's coming!"

>You shift your grip, feeling your fingers brush the lever. You see Talia has her SKS ready as well, grimy as she is.

>She presses her snout to your ear, her whisper still faint.

>"Lay down, and stay."

>You look up at her; the she-wolf's features are firm.

>Slowly, you lie down in the bush, careful about noise. Being naked means the gun is your biggest worry.

>You jolt as there's a flurry of gunshots, then laughter.

>"Very clever!" the shepherdess shouts. "Nice spider-hole!"

>You realize that Talia is gone. You continue laying down.

>"Fucking idiots," Patricia laughs, quieter now. "They were right on top of you two, weren't they?"

>You don't jump as much when Talia fires. You know it's her, the report of the SKS much louder than whatever Pat is packing.

>You don't catch the hit, but you focus on the shepherdess as Talia fires again.

>Splinters fly this time, and Patricia scrambles behind a tree. You swear as she returns fire from the other side, her shots fast. She probably has extra mags, she can afford to be zealous.

>Not like you and Talia.

>"6," you whisper to yourself, "8 for Talia."

>She waits for the echos to stop before speaking again.

>"Are you naked?"

>That throws you for a loop.

>"Yeah," you hear Talia call, somewhere to your right. "What's it matter? You're still gonna shoot me."

>"I wasn't until you did it first!"

>You stifle a growl; you need to get a better angle. You eye up the terrain to your left, trying to find something suitable.

>"Bullshit!" Talia yells. "The fuck you call filling that spider-hole full of lead, then?"

>"Pre-emptive strike," the shepherdess says.

>You slowly roll out from the bush, careful as you raise yourself up.

>"And from what you just did, it appears I was completely justified in doing so."

>"You ain't justified to do nothing! This is Sector NSE, Officer Bitch! You don't work here!"

>Breathe through your mouth. Focus.

>"It is my duty as an officer of the law to see my cases through. I wouldn't be here if you two hadn't run, and just come clean!"

>Slight rise, should be more behind. You wish you had brought a boltgun.

>"...Speaking of," the shepherdess says, "where is the little humie?"

>You freeze; she's still out of sight, but you swear you feel her gaze.

>"Gone."

>"Bullshit," Patricia says as you continue. "I know he's out here. I tracked his phone."

>You enter the shallow valley, trying to ignore your dick scraping along the forest floor.

>"Had to estimate from where it died," the shepherdess continues, "but I got pretty damn close, didn't I?"

>"You want the truth?" you hear Talia say, just as you peek over the rise.

>You see a brown, fluffy tail poking from behind a tree, stock-still.

>"He's probably a mile ahead by now."

>Slowly, you pull the shotgun up as Talia continues her lie.

>"I sent him ahead as soon as those soldiers of yours pulled out. I knew you wouldn't, Patricia. Because you're obsessed, thinking that he and I aren't a thing."

>You pull the stock in, getting your cheekweld. 30 yards with a beadsight.

>No pressure.

>"You wanna know something, Patricia?" the she-wolf yells as you line up your shot. The slug should go through that wood.

>"Anon and I fucked!"

>You freeze, the sight on target.

>"He and I fucked all night long! Last night, and the one before that!"

>You notice the shepherdess' tail droop.

>"We were fucking before you got here, in fact!"

>"Christ, Talia," you mutter. She's taking far too much pleasure in this.

>"It is real! It was real! It'll continue to be --"

>The 10 gauge kicks harder than you remember, the tree cracking almost as loud as your shot.

>You're up to a knee in half a second, racking the lever. There's a blur of black and blue and you chase it with that brass bead, laying down more lead.

>You sit for a second when she's gone, counting your shots. Three left. Probably.

>Talia fired off some and you know Patricia did too. But you're not sure how many.

>You hesitate before you move, trying to hear past the ringing in your ears. You can't see anything and the woods seem quiet.

>You run out to her piece of cover, low and fast, scanning where you thought she went. Your foot brushes something soft when you crouch down.

>"Fuck.." you breathe.

>It's her tail.

>You shot it off.

>You grit your teeth, and think.

>Bloodtrail. There's gotta be a bloodtrail.

>You look, soon spotting dark red amongst the brown. You almost go after it, but then remember the shit they told you in hunter's safety: "Check your surroundings."

>"Talia!" you yell. "Talia, you see her?"

>"No!" the she-wolf says after a moment. "Can you?"

>"No! Come to me! I'll cover you!"

>You stand tall, scanning the forest between you and her. There's only so many places the shepherdess could hide, only so many trees she could use.

>You almost shoot Talia as she comes rushing towards you -- then you snap the shotgun to the left, firing off a shot.

>"Two," you hiss, racking the lever. No red mist, no scream of pain.

>"Fuck," Talia hisses, her ears laid flat. "Shit's loud."

>She pulls you behind the tree, peeking past it with her head laid flat.

>"How many rounds you got?"

>"Two," you say. "You?"

>"Four."

>You sigh.

>"Gotta make 'em count," you mutter, before tapping at her.

>"Look down. Bloodtrail."

>Talia's eyes widen a little when she sees the tail, but she says nothing.

>"You track, and I'll give you overwatch."

>"Why do I have to keep my head down?" she whispers, her ears flattening again.

>"Because you're the wolf," you say.

>"My nose is still fucked up!" she hisses. You put your hand on her shoulder.

>"You'll be fine," you say. "Don't worry -- I'll cover you."

>She stares down at you, then gets down on a knee and starts. You look ahead, scanning the forest again.

>It's so quiet.

>So damn quiet.

>The air is nearly still, just a gentle breeze from the left.

>The blood is sticky on your feet. More than just her tail got hit.

>You realize you can smell it.

>You can smell her.

>You look to the left, catching the brass of her badge.

>You fire as Patricia does, Talia emptying her mag before you've even racked the lever.

>The shepherdess falls back into the brush 10 yards away.

>The only thing you can hear is your heart as you stand there, staring at her over the bead. You see blood on your left arm, and touch your face.

>The open graze stings.

>"Talia?" you ask.

>"...Clean," she says.

>She deploys the SKS's bayonet after a second, looking up at you. You nod, and the two of you advance.

>Halfway there, you realize she's still alive, her breathing strained. But she's not moving, that's for damn sure.

>And her gun is a few yards away from her.

>"Should've left us alone, Pat."

>You lower your gun then, and realize there's a hole in your left leg.

>"Fuck," you say, as Talia's nose twitches.

>"Shit," is all she says, looking at your leg. "Shit. Shit!"

>"Ha-h," Patricia coughs. "Got -- you, perp..."

>You're staring down at the crimson: it's on the outer side. Not femoral.

>But you still don't like the odds.

>Talia rushes forward and looms over the shepherdess; you can hear the SKS creak in her grip.

>Patricia doesn't look good. There's big tears in her ballistic vest from the 7.62; each one probably felt like a sledgehammer.

>The 10 gauge slug, though, didn't care. It ripped right through her right shoulder, leaving a red, jagged mess.

>You want to vomit.

>"Don't," you say, as Talia raises her rifle like a spear. "Leave it."

>"Why?" she growls, staring down at the shepherdess.

>"Prove a point," you say, then groan. "Get her medical pouch."

>Talia doesn't hesitate, stabbing the rifle next to Pat's head. The shepherdess doesn't try to stop her as she rifles through the belt, finding a trauma kit.

>You sit back on your ass, a little ways away from the fallen agent, and lift your leg with a cry; Talia's there in an instant, supporting it and tearing through the little plastic case.

>You shift your grip on the 1901, taking your finger off the trigger. The pain hasn't come yet, but you know it will soon.

>You stare up at the canopy, gripping the shotgun tight. Talia's hands shake as she wipes your leg, the case rattling whenever she reaches for another alcohol patch.

>You grit your teeth as it seeps in, lighting up the entire side of your leg. Talia growls, and you hear more paper tearing.

>She pinches your mouth open and pushes something inside, drawing her fingers back when you splutter on them. You swallow the pills, and she goes back to your leg.

>"Still awake," you say -- but you don't look down at her.

>Talia doesn't say anything back. She clamps down on your leg, squeezing your thigh like it's nothing.

>Her hand feels like it's hot iron.

>You yell, but she doesn't stop.

>You hear her whine.

>"I'm sorry," she says when you're out of breath.

>It melts your heart.

>The gauze pads stick to you when she switches them, but it hurts less now. You feel her wrapping something around your leg, too loose to be a tourniquet.

>Talia hovers over you when she's finished, her amber eyes a little wet.

>"Anon?"

>"I'm here," you say.

>"What day is it?"

>"Sunday?"

>Her eyes dart between yours for a moment before she kisses you.

>Hard at first, but then more gently when you moan.

>You close your eyes, letting her lap at you.

>Slowly, you let go of the gun, and stroke her fur.

>"You'll be alright," she says, finally pulling back. "We'll take our time."

>"Okay," you say. "Now let's --"

>"Stay down, dumbass," the she-wolf scolds. Your leg says the same.

>"I'll carry you."

>You flop back.

>You can live with that.

>Patricia chokes, getting your attention -- and Talia's. She's looking at the two of you, or it's easier for her to breathe that way.

>The she-wolf stands, looking down at you, then the shepherdess.

>"Leave her," you say. "Like she should have."

>Talia stares at you, her fists clenching.

>Then she shakes her head, and crouches back down to you.

>"Wait," Pat gasps. "Left-- pouch."

>Talia hesitates, but goes through the agent's belt. She lets out a soft grunt when she finds a small case.

>"Wanted-- to shoot-- him with it," Pat wheezes, watching Talia open up the Kolibri's case. "Make the-- two of you-- match."

>"But-- now-- I should say--"

>"I'm sorry."

>You don't believe your ears.

>You stare over at the agent, watching her chest struggle to heave. Talia does too, for a moment, then hands you the case.

>She picks up the shepherdess' discarded handgun, dropping it right below the her destroyed shoulder. Then she puts the medical box there, too.

>"Goodbye, Officer Birch," the she-wolf says, looking down at the shepherdess.

>She slings the SKS across her chest and crouches down, scooping you up bridal style, careful about your leg.

>She wasn't lying.

>Those pawpads are soft.

>Talia looks down at the shepherdess again when you're settled in her arms; Patricia's eyes are scrunched closed.

>"And good luck."

>Talia carries you away, off towards the lake.

>You sigh, relaxing into her arms.

>"I love you," you say.

>Her claws dig in gently when she responds in kind.

>You go to decock the 1901, the massive gun getting heavy in your hand.

>You hear a click.

>You look down; the hammer fell.

>Huh.

>You guess you miscounted.

>Otherwise, you'd have just had a Negligent Discharge.

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