Well, I'm a writer in my spare time, but it's been awhile since I've had my writing critiqued by my peers, so this is a little something, part of a bigger something, that I whipped up over the last week. COMMENT PLEASE!!!!! I want to get better, and I need your input! Of course, don't be caustic about it, but don't go easy on me either. Now, for a few disclaimers:

Disclaimer #1 I do not hold any rights to the letters used in this work, nor to the manner in which they are arranged into words. I do, however, hold as mine the intellectual idea conveyed by them. As such, I hereby declare that I do not care whether or not you make anything off of this. I just ask you to refrain from taking this as a whole and claiming it as your own. Aside from that, have fun.

Disclaimer #2 This story has what I have deemed as ADULT content in it. While not explicit, there are enough references that I feel it should be rated thus. If you are not legal age, leave. I will not be held accountable for your actions beyond this point.

For you horny furs looking for a quick paw, you'll have to search someplace else. This is a work concentrated on plot development, not getting your rocks off. Just letting you know so you can't complain later.

Now, if you still intend to read, I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

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Chapter 1

Leaves scattered as his paws struck the ground in savage rhythm, the driving pace clearing all other things from his mind. It was replaced with the scrape of claws against bark, then silence as he pushed off a fallen log and cut through the air, a darting shadow amongst the others that filled the forest floor. He stumbled slightly when he hit the ground, but he didn't pause. His legs burned with inferno of overexertion, but he didn't pause. If he did, they might catch up. They might catch him. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't return to the darkness, the den of filth, the home of drunkenness and debauchery that he had lived in, slaved in, for far too long. Sure, it looked nice on the outside, but that was because, rather than in spite, of the ugliness within. He ducked under another fallen tree and pressed forward. He couldn't keep this up for much longer. Sooner or later his legs would cramp, and then he would be helpless. Gritting his teeth, he determined to press onwards. Soon the forest would end and he could lose himself in the city beyond. Of course, he wouldn't be safe there for long. but he might be able to stow away on one of the scores of merchant vessels that sailed from the port city every day.

Port Ceodre. The name had long been both a source of hope and terror for the young wolf. Hope at the chance of freedom such a large city may offer, and terror at the black market slave trade that existed beneath the streets. It wasn't illegal to buy and sell slaves, but for ones that were going to be, or had been put, to various nefarious purposes, it was best to sell to those who knew to keep their mouth, as well as the slave's, shut.

The wolf yelped as he stumbled over a tree root, banging his shoulder against the rough bark of the trunk. Rubbing it, he paused for a moment and looked around. His ears rotated as he listened, but he heard nothing. His black tail rose slightly from where it had been pressed against his leg. They weren't close at least. Looking back over his trail, he winced. With the blind panic that had fogged his mind, he completely forgot anything stealth-related. He could see where his footpaws had displaced leaves, scratches where he had stepped on a log, and skids where he had slipped slightly in some mud. And if he could see it, that meant that even the cheapest tracker could follow him. He ground his teeth, his master, no, former master he corrected himself with a shake of his head, wouldn't employ a cheap amateur to catch him. He had seen too much, heard too much. He had constantly been at his Master's...former Master's side, even when the dealings had been behind bolted doors with guards outside. A paw reached up and brushed the flattened fur where, until this morning, the leather straps of the muzzle had rested. He rotated his jaw, not quite used to being able to move it at will yet. He had been treated as a pet, dragged around wherever his...former Master...would go. He had been told it was because of his eyes, the silvery gray was an unusual color apparently, and the fact that he had a jet black pelt didn't help. Black wolves were supposed to be dangerous, loose boulders as it were, and to have one groveling at his feet made his M--former Master appear more powerful.

The wolf jumped, grabbing a branch above his head and pulling himself up into the tree. Inching out onto a branch, he took a deep breath and leaped, grabbing onto a sapling a good ten feet away. He climbed up the sapling a bit further and gathered himself before leaping again. He repeated this a few more times until he was satisfied that he had moved far enough from his trail. Dropping to the ground, he started off again. It couldn't be too much further to the port.

"Master?"

A young mouse peeked tentatively around the corner of the oak door, glancing around nervously before stepping inside the room. Wringing his tail in his paws, he walked towards the center of the large library, his big ears flattening slightly when no one appeared. The dim light that filtered through the high windows only dimly lit a dark wooden bookshelves that lined the walls, stretching far above the mouse's head. Gathering his courage, he called out louder, "Master!"

A yelp came from one of the aisles, along with the sound of someone falling. The mouse gasped and darted around the bookcase and into the aisle, his ears flattening when he saw the wolf he had been looking for picking himself up off the floor.

"Master, I'm sorry!" He squeaked, rushing forward and picking up the books that had scattered across the floor. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"Maurel!"

The mouse stopped his frantic movements and kneeled before his Master. His ears trembled and his paws fiddled with his tailtip nervously. The brown-furred wolf reached down and gently rubbed the mouse's grey head, his paw nearly enveloping him in the process.

"Maurel, I'm not going hurt you for calling for me." The mouse looked up from under his paw. Their eyes made contact briefly, and the mouse whimpered and looked away. The wolf sighed, he had known the mouse would have some problems when he had found him his last mark's house, but it was still frustrating at times. "You can reply, Maurel, I won't punish you for speaking unless I've specifically told you not to." When the mouse didn't move or speak, the wolf wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close. The mouse struggled for a moment, then let out a shuddering sigh and relaxed, submitting to his master. The wolf looked down at the mouse, nearly hidden in his arms due to their difference in size, and chuckled.

"So, what did you want me for? I'm sure you didn't come just to have me hold you."

Maurel's ears flattened, and he squeaked. "Master, I'd never bother you for something like that!"

The wolf's chest rumbled with a low growl, and the mouse cringed. "But I told you that you can come to me for whatever you need. That includes when you want physical contact."

"Y-Yes Master." The mouse squirmed briefly, settling deeper into the wolf's arms. "A messenger from Lord Baldric came. H-He said that his Master is calling all Hunters in the area to help him find his pet slave."

The wolf squeezed slightly before letting go of the mouse and standing up. "I don't do those group hunts. Too much sabotage and backstabbing among the searchers. You did well though, Maurel."

The mouse looked up at his master, the inside of his ears blushing at the praise. "Thank you, Master."

The wolf reached down and patted the mouse's head one last time, chuckling at how it reached just above his waist. "Maurel, go tell Cook that I'd like a snack before I go out to train."

"Yes Master!" The mouse squeaked, scuttling out of the room.

Yellow eyes stared after him for a moment, then blinked as the wolf bent to pick up the thick books scattered across the ground. Searching through them, he growled in frustration. "C'mon Cedric, it was right here, don't lose it now." His ears laid to the side as he looked around again, his tail swaying behind him as a counterbalance. He sighted the errant tome, his lips peeling back into a feral grin as he leapt over to it. "Aha! Now I can get back to training." He muttered as he stood up again. Placing the book on a nearby table, he padded back to the stack of books he had pulled off the shelves and proceeded to replace them. Finally coming to the last one, Cedric tucked it underneath his arm and looked up at the top shelf some five feet above him. Scaling the shelves, he soon came level with the empty spot. Moving quickly, he let go of the shelf and pulled the book from under his arm, grabbing the shelf again as he started to fall back. With the book safely back in its spot, he dropped to the floor. Picking up the one he had been searching for, he pushed through the oaken door of the library, already thumbing through the pages.

It took until he reached the armory before he actually found the chapter he wanted, and he eagerly scanned the page. Putting the book down, he looked over his general equipment, noting a couple notches on some of the blades before turning to his own personal armory. These were off limits. No one but himself could touch them without his express permission. He cleaned them, oiled them, sharpened them, and used them. Selecting a sword of middle length, the type he was the most comfortable with, he gazed at his reflection in the flat of the blade.

"Armorer!"

After a few seconds a grey cat emerged from the back supply room. "Yes Master?" Greeted by the beckoning of the wolf's finger, he approached, hesitantly, and kneeled before Cedric. Ears pinned back in nervousness, he gulped when he felt Cedric's paw beneath his chin, living it up. His ears flattened against his head when he saw his Master's stern eyes.

Cedric gestured towards the general weapons rack. "Tell me, Armorer, why are those blades nicked?

"I-I..." The cat trailed off, then bowed his head. "I have failed you, Master."

"I will not have damaged equipment in my armory. Get Smith to fix them, immediately."

"Yes, Master."

"And get one of the guards to come to the training area. I want to try out a new technique."

"Yes, Master."

Cedric watched as the cat hurried out of the room. Grumbling at his armorer's ineptness, he turned to head out to the training ground. He only made it a few steps before he stopped at the sound of someone shouting his name.

"Cedric! You are not going out there without eating the food you requested I make."

The wolf turned around as a golden retriever bustled into the room, her paws carrying a silver tray laden with an array of snacks. Cook was the only one of his slaves who called him by his name. Even the guards that were assigned to his house addressed him as 'Sir'. She deserved it though. Cook had been his nurse when he was a pup, as well as being the head cook for his parents. When they took up residence with his uncle, they left Cook to him, since she would have no work if she went with them. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry Cook. I was so excited that I completely forgot that I was hungry."

The retriever huffed. "A wolf your size is never not hungry."

Cedric chuckled as he relieved Cook of the tray, setting it down atop a nearby crate. Pulling up the chair he used when donning his armor, he began to eat. After a few bites he paused and turned to her, wonder in his eyes. "How do you do it?"

Her ears perked and she cocked her head. "Do what?"

He waved a paw at the food in front of him. "Make stuff like this! I know for a fact that this pastry is time-consuming to bake, but I ask for some food and within fifteen minutes you're bringing me things that should take hours to create." He took another bite of the pastry, a paw shooting to the corner of his mouth. "Blazes, you're making me drool."

Cook chuckled. "Well, I can't tell you all my secrets, otherwise you'll be asking even more of me."

Cedric eyed her. "I might at that."

She glared at him and shook a finger. "Don't you dare. I have enough on my schedule as it is, I don't need you adding any more. Now you just finish that and go play with your sticks and I'll get back to my kitchen."

"Sure thing, Cook, I'll go play with my 'sticks'." Cedric said as he finished off the last pastry, licking strawberry juice off his paws as he stood up. "I may go into town afterwards, so don't worry about supper. If I do come home, I'll just have something cold."

Cook stepped forward, the long fur on her tail waving as she picked up the tray, sweeping the extra crumbs off the crate as she did so. "Sure thing, Cedric. Now you go have fun, and I'll see you later."

Cedric nodded to her and picked up his sword, which he had leaned against the wall behind him. Walking out the door opposite the one he came in, he emerged into a large courtyard. In the center a sandy ring was set six feet down from the surrounding stone. In the center, a middle-aged bear stood stretching. He walked to the edge of the pit and looked down. "It's good to see that I'll have a challenge today, Captain Beowulf."

The bruin paused at the sound of his voice and turned. "I could say the same, Sir. I was afraid I would have to practice alone again today. None of the guard will spar with me since I've defeated them all."

Cedric made a face. "I hate when people address me as 'sir'. I'm just out of my teens, for Skoll's sake!" Leaping down into the pit, he leaned his sword against the wall, laid the book next to it, and proceeded to stretch.

"Sir, you are the master of this house, it is only proper." The bear said, walking over to lean against the wall near him. "The King would not be pleased if I neglected proper etiquette when speaking to you."

Cedric grunted. "Fine." He stood up and laid his arm across his chest. "If I remember correctly, you went to the port yesterday. Did you happen to look at the notice board?" He reached for his footpaws.

"There was a crowd around it when I was there." Captain Beowulf said, laying his head against the wall and looking up at the sky as he tried to remember. "It was large enough that I didn't feel like fighting my way through it to find out what had them so excited, but I did ask around a bit. Apparently, from what a young maid told me, pretty little thing by the way, the Black Night had made a few strikes in the city as of late, and rumor has it that Lokisson is among the leaders."

Cedric froze, the straightened slowly. "Lokisson? Now that is a surprise. Bad for the port, but good for me I suppose. That's half a year of my normal income right there." He rotated his shoulders, joints cracking before he picked up his sword. "He's tricky one though. I'm as likely to get stabbed in the back as to stab him."

Captain Beowulf strode to the middle of the ring, a feral grin spreading across his blocky muzzle. "Well, then you should practice some more so the scales tip in your favor, shouldn't you?"

The wolf dropped into a crouch. "I like you more when we're about to spar. You stop calling me 'Sir'." Holding his sword in front of him, Cedric began to circle the bear. "And you drop the soldier act."

"A swordfight is different than everyday life." Beowulf said, his sword rising to a guard position in front of him. "You and I are equals in this ring. Outside of it, you are my superior. It's quite simple." Sand flew from under his paws as he leapt forward, slashing at the wolf. Cedric leapt back, the bruin's wide sword creating a gust of wind as it hummed by, inches from his stomach. "But enough talk, you are being distracted." The wolf nodded and resumed his slow circling.

"I want to thank you all for coming here at such short notice."

The ornate room was quiet, the array of muzzles grimly silent as they gathered around the large rosewood table that dominated the room. The fox that stood at attention near the door shivered. He resisted the urge to tuck his tail between his legs at the sheer ferocity the emanated from every one of them. Most of the Hunters present could crush him with one hand, and the rest could kill him just a quickly by other means. He glanced over at the rottweiler that had spoken and whined softly. Master hated being around males his size, it drove his testosterone levels through the roof. He would be stomping around for hours after this was over, and the fox just hoped that he wasn't the one that Master took his hormones out on.

The rottweiler cleared his throat and continued. "Many of you know my Pet, I'm sure. Some more...closely...than others." A few rough chuckles greeted his words, and others grinned. One wolf and the bottom corner of the table even licked his muzzle. "After all these years," the dog went on, "it still hasn't submitted. Now it's gone and stolen itself. Needless to say, I want it back, and I'm willing to pay richly for it." He leaned back in his chair, his arms draping over the arms lazily. "Now, for those of you who don't know, my Pet is male. He is a few inches shorter than me, and has a glossy black pelt. He also.." Baldric paused a moment before continuing, a sly smile spreading over his muzzle, "has silver-gray eyes."

"I thought that line died out ages ago." Muttered a slight weasel, probably the smallest person there. A chorus of murmurs quietly assented to this statement.

A sharp bark settled them. "Why he has these eyes is my business, not yours. I will pay fifty thousand gold pieces to the beast who brings him back to me, unharmed. That decreases to ten thousand if you kill him." He paused a moment, seeming to consider something, before continuing. "By 'unharmed' I mean no injury that will not heal in a short time. You have my permission to use him however you see fit on the way back." Instantly the ears of the larger Hunters in the room swiveled forward with interest. Paws fiddled with the arms of the chairs as the hunt got even more interesting. "It was noticed missing early this morning. It usually sleeps chained to the floor in the room adjacent to mine, but when I woke up in the morning the chain was out the window. At first I thought the thing had hanged itself, but when I pulled the chain back up, the collar on the end was cut. I had made the chain long enough to reach into my room when I opened the door, so it had enough slack to lower itself far enough that the fall wouldn't injure it." Pulling out a muzzle, Baldric threw it on the table. "It's been muzzled the whole time I've owned it, aside from when it eats, so I don't know how well it speaks." He got up. "Last thing. It was a pit fighter, so it's not helpless. Do be careful when you catch it, I'd really like it back alive. I have plans."

The room filled with a cacophony of wood scraping on stone as a score of chairs were pushed back. The rottweiler stood, impassive, as the majority filed out the door. Only three stayed behind; a wolf, a fox, and a weasel. Lord Baldric growled. "What do you want?"

The black-furred fox stepped forward. "More information."

Baldric snorted, "I've given you all the information I know."

The fox sprawled himself across the table in a sensual fashion, tipping his head back slightly as he continued speaking. "That's why I'm asking the questions. You might have valuable information that you don't know about."

Baldric grabbed the fox by the tunic and pulled him close. "Listen to me fox. I won't have you-" He trailed off as he felt a cold metal tip tickling his back. Glancing off to the side, he saw that the weasel had pulled a bow from somewhere and was now aiming an arrow right between his ears, which meant that the wolf was the one holding the knife to his back. His eyes flicked over to the other side, where his fox porter stood paralyzed, mouth open in shock. He caught the slave's eyes and glanced between him and the door. The fox caught his meaning and began to inch his way out the door.

"Don't take another step, fox."

His paws froze, just in front of the door. The slightly hissing voice of the weasel continued. "Now, step away from the door slowly."

The fox looked over his shoulder, whimpering as he looked between his Master and the weasel, whose bow was now trained between his shoulder blades. He looked like he knew how to use it too, which made the fox all the more hesitant. But one look at the face of his Master chose for him. The rottweiler glared at him, making it perfectly clear that if he didn't go for the door, the dog would kill him personally. Whining softly, he leapt for the door, yelping as he heard the buzz of the arrow cut through the air. There was the thunk of arrow into wood, and the fox opened his eyes to find himself pinned to the door by the shoulder of his clothing. He struggled for a moment, but a second arrow pinning his other shoulder to the door convinced him to stand still.

The rottweiler gritted his teeth and turned back to the fox, who was still grinning at him. "Now," he said, gently pulling his tunic from Baldric's loose grip, "why don't you answer those questions?"

The rottweiler pinned his ears back, hating that he was the one answering, instead of ordering. "Fine."

"Good." The fox's grin vanished as he slid off the table and into a chair. "Where is your pet familiar with?"

"'Round here, mostly." Baldric said, leaning back now that the knife at his back had retreated, although uncomfortably conscious that the wolf was only a few feet behind him. "But I've taken it to the port a couple of times, mostly when I'm meeting with some merchant."

The fox nodded. "And the last time this happened was?"

"A few weeks ago. Had a shipment of wine that needed 'special handling'."

"What is its disposition? How does it act normally?"

Lord Baldric shrugged. "It's rebellious. It usually co-operates just enough to keep me from having a good reason to beat it."

"Well, I think we have a good picture of our quarry now." The fox said, rising from the table. The two others fell into step behind him as he made his way to the door.

"You're actually working together?" Lord Baldric asked, incredulously. "Why?"

The fox froze, then turned to the rottweiler, a look of complete amazement on his muzzle. "You just realized that?" He said, his voice saturated with astonishment. "Blazing Fenris are you slow." Turning back, he walked out the door, neglecting to answer the last question. If the noble wasn't bright enough to realize that brains needed brawn and agility to get things done, he wasn't going to play teacher and tell him. The wolf followed him silently, while the weasel paused to leer at the fox pinned to the door.

"Have fun." He whispered before turning to Baldric. "You should start thinking up what you're gonna do to your pet when it gets back. Might want to get some friends too." He smirked, eyes narrowing. "He's gonna be pretty worn, Wolfie's_ big_."

Lord Baldric growled after them. Closing his eyes, he gritted his teeth and took a couple deep breaths. Opening his eyes, they landed on the fox, still pinned to the door, ears cupped against his head. Licking his muzzle, he walked over to the fox. "Well, at least they did one thing right." He muttered as he cupped a paw underneath the fox's muzzle and lifted it to meet his eyes. "They got you all nice and positioned for me."

Laughing as the fox's eyes darkened in fear, he reached for the fasteners of his pants, fumbling with them and then allowing the garment to fall to the floor. Leaning over, he whispered into the fox's ear. "No matter how big that wolf is, I think I'm bigger."

Cedric snarled as Beowulf's blade crashed into his, his body lifting from the ground at the force of the blow. Anticipating this, the wolf had jumped just before contact, so the force carried him sideways instead of knocking him over. Sliding six inches in the loose sand, he spread his legs to keep his balance. All the muscles in his body were burning, but he refused to let that slow him down. Digging his paws into the sand, he launched himself at the bear, sword extended. Beowulf's sword diverted the thrust, but not enough to avoid a shallow slice across his ribs. With a twist of the bear's wrist, Cedric's sword left his hand, spinning a good distance away before tumbling to the sand.

Cedric sighed as he reached up to touch the edge of the blade that tickled his throat. "It seems I have lost once again, Captain Beowulf."

The bear pulled the sword away, laying it against his shoulder. "Five of nine is not an overwhelming majority by any standard, Sir. You are improving." He winced as he touched the cut on his ribs. "I think you actually tried to skewer me with that last thrust."

The wolf bowed his head for a moment. "I let my instincts get away from me for a moment, and I apologize."

Beowulf nodded once. "It is forgiven. Now, if you'll excuse me, Sir, I will be off."

Cedric picked up his sword and pulled himself out of the pit. "If you happen to run across Groom, tell him to ready my horse. I will be going into town as soon as I'm finished cleaning up." He looked back over his shoulder as he walked away. "And make sure you get someone to tend to that wound. I won't have you getting an infection over some pride issue. Wounds get tended to, no exceptions."

Captain Beowulf gritted his teeth, it was only a scratch. "Yes, sir."

Cedric sighed as he sank into the warm water of the bath. He considered the hot springs the highlight of his house. A quick plunge into the water outside the baths cooled him off, and then a warm soak kept his muscles loose. After a while, he got out, water pouring from his body as he walked over to where his towel hung. As he picked it up, he paused to examine himself in the polished marble of the wall. The water had wet down his fur until it clung to his body, displaying the muscle tone that was otherwise hidden from view. He twisted back and forth, allowing his inner narcissist a bit of free reign before rubbing the towel over his fur. It wouldn't get him completely dry, but at least he wouldn't be sopping wet. Giving his sheath a good scratch, he unfolded his pants from where they lay on the counter. Shirts were considered optional and he was happy to do without one most of the time. Even during winter, his fur kept him warm, so the only reason to wear one was for more formal occasions. Slipping them on, nodded approvingly at the loose fit. It didn't hamper his movements as much as some of his other clothes did. Grabbing a belt off the red marble counter, he wrapped it around his waist, making sure the dagger on it was within easy reach.

Stepping out of the bathhouse, he made his way down to the stable, where Groom was just leading a horse out into the courtyard. Groom, a horse himself, smiled to Cedric as he handed over the reins. "Have a good time, Master." He said in a rumbling voice.

The wolf grinned and waved back as he rode out the open gate, making his way towards the smoking rooftops in the distance. Looking back over his shoulder, he watched his home shrink at a leisurely pace. The gates had not closed after him, an occurrence that he enjoyed. It felt much more welcoming coming home to an open gate, like the warm embrace of friends. He scowled slightly, turning away. A wolf should be able to say that about his family.

Soon he was clip-clopping his way up to the port's gate. He noticed that the burn mark that a pup had put on the gate recently had been removed, no doubt by that same pup. Cedric chuckled, that would teach him not to shoot burning arrows around. The port's guard, a german shepherd, was lounging against the frame of the gate. He glanced up as Cedric neared, greeting him with a smile before retreating back into his own thoughts.

Cedric stopped next to him. "Anything happen lately I should know?"

The shepherd rolled his tongue around him mouth a couple times before replying. "Nothin' that's not a'ready tacked on th' message board."

"Thanks." He nudged the horse forward again. "Don't let your captain see you slacking off." The guard acknowledged his words with a lazy wave. Cedric continued into the city, one eyebrow raised. As he turned the corner, he said in a surprised voice, "Oh, hello Captain Raynar." He heard a slight gasp and rustle as the guard straightened at his post. He chuckled as he continued on. Now it was time to see what the wanted papers said, and then it was off to the pub for other information.