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The Os-Nàdarra Sentinels

Arc Three:

The Overlords

Chapter 5: The Queen

            An imposing figure watched from afar

as the small group of anthros, including the troublesome, giant vampire that

had arrived to help them, began to depart, loading themselves into their

vehicles and speeding off towards the city, leaving plumes of snow trailing in

their wake, and the bodies of almost three dozen werewolves to litter the area

where they had battled. Ruby red eyes glared at the departing intruders, who

had dared venture into her territory and kill her pack.

            Not to mention, they were known,

now; the groups who had come before them were all part of the pack now, except

those who could not be turned. Those ones had become food, and now nourished

her kin. They had not been able to report the existence of her pack, allowing

her to continue moving silently across Northern Canada in pursuit of her

targets, as well as spread her influence, with only suspicion of her presence,

not any proof. But now her secret was out... well, at least one secret.

            Through a muzzle more beast than

humanoid, a deep, yet effeminate voice, spoke softly. "It appears I will have

to step up my time table..." the werewolf said before turning away and

disappearing behind the hill...

            ~~~~~

            With Aisuours now having joined the

party, the Os-Nàdarra returned to the motel for a debriefing. Thanking Michaels

for his help, they let the ranger get back to his daily routines, and said they

would take it from there. Aisuours displayed a unique ability to shrink down to

a smaller size, and simultaneously transform into a black-haired human with

pale skin, retaining most of his vampiric traits, including his violet eyes.

This was a handy ability, allowing him to enter the motel rooms without issue,

whereas in his true form he'd have been too big.

            Everyone was there for the debrief;

Vinge, Lighris, Tsume, Brent, Pavan, and of course Aisuours, all found places

to sit in Vinge's motel room, while the Ice Phoenix sat cross-legged in an

almost meditative pose as he waited for the others to settle in. He thought

carefully about what he was going to say, making sure he had all of the facts

in order in his mind before he began speaking.

            "Alright, let's go over what we know

so far," began Vinge. "Let's start with these lycanthropes; Aisuours, you

mentioned earlier that you've known of their presence up here for a while?"

            "A few weeks at best," the

human-formed bear returned. "I first noticed them up here last month; it was

only a few at first, so I left them alone. But their numbers kept growing."

            "By how much?" Lighris asked.

            "Tens of them, each day, and kept

increasing until suddenly there were a couple of hundred in the area," Aisuours

explained. "Their leader, I eventually gathered, was that red-eyed she-wolf you

saw; the same one I fought with when I arrived and the rest of her pack fled."

            "Uh, I don't want to sound sexist,"

remarked Pavan, casting a wary glance at Tsume. "But in a wolf pack, isn't the

alpha usually a male?"

            "Typically yes," replied Aisuours.

"But this female is different- what you saw today was no typical pack of

werewolves, as you guys may or may not have noticed."

            "You're referring to the way they

moved," Vinge stated. "The way they attacked us -not the M.O. of your usual

wolf-pack; they usually kill singling out the weakest of a herd or group, and

then taking it down after luring it away from the safety of that herd. This

group however, it didn't do that."

            "No," replied Aisuours. "The way

they behaved was more like a soldier's platoon; ambushing, boxing you guys in,

and then dividing up their strength on the offensive, to try and take you all

out as quickly as possible, rather than singling out the weakest to strongest

of your numbers to pick you off one at a time."

            "And they have a female leader, as

opposed to the usual male alpha," said Vinge. "It's not unusual to believe a

female would have a different approach to a situation than a male -it's been

proven, actually, but this completely defies all logic. I think the one we're

facing may be far more intelligent than any other lycan in the world."

            Tsume grinned. "Of course a female

would be the first intelligent one."

            Everyone shot her a look.

            "Sorry; couldn't resist," she said,

putting up her hands.

            "This is no joking matter, Tsume,"

stated Vinge. "Male or female, the fact the pack leader is intelligent is a

problem; they can think strategically, plan an attack, find a weakness. It

suddenly makes sense why nobody noticed them before; they've been discreet,

picking off victims at the most remote locations to expand their numbers, as

there are lots of anthro canines and humans alike up here they can turn into

more of their own."

            "Wait, canines and humans?" Pavan

asked. "Just them?"

            "Therianthropy is limited only to

species that resemble them," Vinge explained. "Or rather, in this case, a Lycan

can only turn canines, vulpines or other lupine anthros into werewolves; an

avian, feline or reptile wouldn't be affected. Humans are, however, because

they have very adaptive genetics; they can mix with just about anything, and so

they remain vulnerable while avians like us, or a bear like Aisuours -even

without his Vampirism, would be immune."

            Pavan nodded, understanding.

            "But, that's not all there is to

this," Vinge carried on. "We now know there's something else out there,

fighting the werewolves. I did some thinking on it, trying to see if there was

anything I could compare to the claw marks we found on that dead one in the

woods. They didn't match another lycan, and were far too smooth for any other

claws species except one; felines."

            "A big cat killed that werewolf?"

Lighris asked, incredulously.

            "Not just any cat," replied Vinge.

"I think we may be dealing with more than one breed of therianthropic

creatures; Werecats."

            "Two rare supernatural creatures in

one place?" Tsume asked. "Doesn't that seem unlikely to you?"

            "Admittedly, yes," replied Vinge.

"But it could be a territory war; if there are Werecats here, they may be

fighting with the werewolves for control of this area, or one side may be trying

to expand into the other's. Either way, it has started a conflict between them

and Dawson City is so near to it, the city might be caught right in the center.

If we don't isolate this, we could looking at a therianthrope pandemic."

            Lighris grimaced. "I think we're

getting in over our heads with this one," he stated. "If this is some

supernatural turf war, how can we stop it? Aisuours said there are hundreds of

lycans out there; six of us here, one for every fifty of them?"

            "I agree," said Vinge, before anyone

else could speak. "But, first thing's first, we need to confirm whether I'm

right or wrong; we need to find where both sides live, and plan our next move

from there."

            Tsume chimed in with her opinion.

"Vinge is right. We need to know where our targets are before we do anything

else."

            "And what do we do after we find

them?" Pavan asked.

            "We'll decide that after we've found

them," replied the Ice Phoenix. "Plan too far ahead, and we may find ourselves

taking the wrong road." He stood up from his bed, eyeing his team one at a

time. "For now, we better get some rest; we're going to have a long day

tomorrow."

            Everyone agreed with that

suggestion; they'd had a rough day already, and they all knew, just as Vinge

did, this was only the beginning of their mission. They were far from finished

yet. He saw them all out, holding the door open for the last of them until they

left and returned to their motel rooms -except for Aisuours who proceeded to

head off into the blackness of the night. Being of a nomadic lifestyle, staying

in a motel was likely not comfortable for him; he was better out there, in the

wilderness.

            As the last of his friends exited

the room, Vinge closed and locked the door, closing the drapes and returning to

his bed, where he lay down and shut his eyes, slowly drifting off into sleep...

            ~~~~~

            The next morning, the group left as

soon as the sun was high and illuminating the snow- covered ground, leaving the

motel and heading back to the site where they fought the werewolves to get to

work tracking the pack, as well as their apparent adversaries -a group of

Werecats or so Vinge suspected. As they had discussed last night, it was time

to find them, and determine if they posed an immediate threat to Dawson City

and the other nearby towns.

            It was known that most wild cats

were more independent than canines; while wolves or wild dogs would always

gather into a pack, felines usually travelled alone or, if they were in a

group, it would be small, condensed. They relied on their speed and strength

over the strength of numbers like a wolf did, but as a therianthropic species,

even one could spark a pandemic of Aiuranthropes, and large cats were

proportionately stronger than a wolf. In hindsight, they all agreed that

finding the werecats first, and then the lycans, was the best course of action.

They already knew the lycans were a threat, but the aiurans were still an

enigma.

            Reaching the clearing where they had

fought the lycans before, Aisuours got to work trying to find a trail. Having

spent his life wandering the wilderness, he had become quite a good tracker,

and worked with Tsume and Vinge to uncover a trail; the ice phoenix used his

powered to clear the snow and expose the ground underneath, which Tsume felt

over with a hand and shut her eyes as she channeled her energy through it,

sensing the various depressions and deformations in the land caused by the

battle that had taken place here.

            "Okay... based on the different

sizes I'd say there were at least... nine werecats here," said Tsume. "They

have larger paws than werewolves. As for the lycans there were twenty, maybe

more. The fight in this clearing didn't remain here; it carried on..." She

pointed to the east, towards the high peaks of the Yukon's area of the Rocky

Mountains. "That way."

            "The scent of the werecats comes

from that direction too," said Aisuours. "They must live up on one of the

ranges."

            Lighris grunted. "This could take a

while," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "On this side of the boundary

there's at least fifty peaks up there; they could be living on any one of those

mountains."

            "Then we'll recon from the air,"

stated Vinge.

            "Easy for you to say; you don't even

feel how damn cold it is around here," Pavan remarked.

            "If you have a better idea, voice

it," the ice phoenix returned plainly.

            Pavan's face went blank and his beak

hung open as if to speak, but no words came out. Lighris actually laughed. "You

got him speechless; I thought I'd never live to see the day," he said.

            Tsume and Brent -from inside of his

armour, shared the laughter, and after a moment Aisuours let a small chuckle

escape too. Pavan stood, arms crossed and flustered with his left eye twitching

slightly, fuming with annoyance. It did not feel good to have the tables turned

on him like that; normally he was the one who left others flustered...

            "Alright, cut the jokes," Vinge

intervened. "We've still got a job to do. Tsume, Brent, Aisuours; start heading

for the mountains -use the truck and call us if you run into trouble. Fliers

with me; let's go."

            With that, the group separated;

Vinge, Lighris and Pavan took to the sky, spreading out their wings and getting

running starts before they rose into the air above, climbing high over the

treetops and into the air, while the others, led by Aisuours, began to make

their way back to the truck; they had come only with the Silverado this time,

which Brent climbed into the back of while Tsume took the wheel and Aisuours,

shrinking back down to human form, climbed into the passenger seat. They would

be able to travel much faster by vehicle than on foot through so much snow.

            High in the air, Vinge set his gaze

upon the mountains where they were heading, running several possible scenarios

through his head as he considered how an encounter with the werecats might

proceed. So far, only lycanthropes had been seen; if this was indeed a

territorial war, the lycans were playing to their strength of having numbers,

while most cats were fairly social but independent -they would want to be near

some of their own kind, each one keeping to themselves, so if they were

sticking to that mentality, then the group did not have to fear being

surrounded...

            Unless these ones were playing it

smart and sticking together, rather than working by instinct; as unlikely as it

may have been, he had already seen the lycanthropes, or at least one of them,

display intelligence; he should consider the same for whatever awaited them on

those mountains...

            "Hey Vinge!" Lighris called.

"Werewolves are killed by silver, right? What do you use against Werecats?"

            "The same; all Therianthropes

possess the same vulnerabilities!" Vinge called back.

            "But we don't have any silver!"

Pavan chimed in.

            "We don't need it; silver makes it

easier but even lycans can only take so much damage!" Vinge replied. "Don't

forget, we killed several yesterday!"

            "Oh yeah, we did! I guess we're okay

then!"

            Though the peaks had looked close

from where they were, in truth the Rocky Mountains were quite far from Whitehouse;

several hours of flying and the trio of avians reached the mountain, circling

overhead for a while until the others on the ground arrived. When they saw the

Silverado below, which had managed to keep pace with them on the roads, had now

left the eastbound highway and was beginning to climb the slope of the first

mountain they reached. With that, the avians descended, landing in the box of

the truck carefully and one at a time, where they found Brent shivering in his

armour.

            "Sh-sh-should've

put some insulation into the plates of this thing," he chattered from

inside the metal suit. "Starting to get

really cold in here."

            "That wouldn't help much," Lighris

pointed out. "Metal conducts cold as much as it does heat, you know. That's why

you're freezing."

            "S-still,

it's freaking stupid cold around

here," said Brent. "My species

usually lives on the plains or in foothills, not in the snow. I lived in Unity

Falls specifically to stay south of Canada's worst. Now I'm up here in the

bone-chilling Yukon looking for werewolves."

            Lighris rolled his eyes. "Oh quit your belly-aching," the lightning

hawk scolded. "We're not going to be up here for long."

            Vinge paid little attention to the

exchange, keeping his eyes on the slope ahead and the hills above. His pupils

dilated as he widened his eyes and used his telescopic vision to peer straight

ahead, studying the landscape. He could see, in the snow, signs of recent

activity could be seen -large-bodied creatures falling into -or being dragged

through the snow, perhaps. He couldn't be sure until they were closer...

            Waiting for a few more seconds, he

knocked on the back window of the truck to get Tsume's attention, motioning for

her to stop up ahead, directing specifically to a slightly more level part of

land where the Silverado was in no danger of sliding back down the mountain if

the snow were to loosen beneath it.

            When the truck was stopped, Tsume

climbed out first, and recoiled slightly as she placed her foot on the snow.

"God damn," she grumbled. "Can't feel anything through all of this."

            "Doesn't look like we'll need to,"

Aisuours remarked as he climbed out of the truck and returned to his true form,

changing from a human and into a black-furred, eleven-foot tall bear once

again, where he proceeded to sniff the air, detecting the smells past the cold

winds. "There's been some activity here. I smell..." He shut his eyes and took

in a deep breath through his nostrils, and then his expression became blank as

he opened his eyes again. "...Cougars."

            "Mountain Lions, here?" Lighris

asked, quizzically. "Don't they normally follow the elk herds?"

            "They do," confirmed Vinge. "And the

elk herds would have moved on by now; there shouldn't be any cougars up here at

all."

            "Is it an old scent?" Pavan offered.

            Aisuours shook his head. "No;

there's been movement here within the last few hours," replied the vampiric

bear. "I've also got the faint smell of a werewolf; just one, though, coming up

the mountain from the same direction we did."

            Vinge glanced over at Aisuours

curiously. "Did they go back?"

            "Doesn't seem like it, no. The wolf

scent mixes with the cougars; they must've jumped them," said Aisuours.

            Lighris stepped in, putting up both

his hands and shaking his head. "Hold on, hold on; one werewolf, jumped by multiple

cougars? That doesn't make any sense; wolves are the pack hunters, cougars are

loners."

            Pavan scratched his head. "Hate to

say it, but Lighris is right."

            "And I hate to mention it," began

Tsume. "But I think this supports Vinge's werecat theory."

            "Even weres still follow most of the

basic instincts of their feral counterparts, right?" Lighris asked.

            "Even a feral animal will alter its

behavioral patterns for survival," replied Vinge. "I think I was right; there is a territorial war going on up here."

            "So if I smell cougars," began

Aisuours, looking at Vinge. "Then we're dealing with a cougar strain of

Aiuranthrope."

            "Correct," replied Vinge.

            Suddenly, the word 'strain' rang in

his mind, and suddenly he was thinking back to the lycanthropes they had seen

the day before, remembering their appearance, their size, and of course, their

shade of fur. Out of habit, as he always did, the ice phoenix slowly crossed

one arm over his chest and brought his other arm up to his face, biting down

lightly on his left index finger with the tip of his beak while staring off

into space, seemingly lost in the infinite sky above as his thoughts went

deeper.

            "Uh oh; he's in his 'thinking'

pose," Tsume remarked.

            "Why's that a bad thing?" Aisuours

asked.

            "Because it usually means he just

realized something we probably aren't going to like to hear," a scowling

Lighris returned bluntly. "Alright, frosty; let's have it. What have you just

thought of?"

            "That our she-wolf pack leader might

not be from Canada," remarked Vinge.

            Lighris' expression softened. "Oh...

not what I was expecting but okay."

            "What makes you think she's a

foreigner?" Pavan asked.

            "Her species, for one," replied

Vinge. "I know among anthropomorphics, fur, feather and scale colours can be

different but there are of course those rare ones. Anyway, with that wolfess,

her fur was black."

            "So?"

Brent asked after finally getting his armoured self out of the back of his

truck . "I thought lots of wolves had

black fur?"

            "Most wolves have brown or grey fur,

Brent," replied Tsume. "There are no black wolves here in Canada, anthro or

feral." She rubbed her chin in thought. "At least not native."

            "Exactly," Vinge chimed in. "I think

the strain of lycan we're facing may be that of the European Black Wolf."

            "So she's from Europe?" Lighris

asked, earning a nod of confirmation from Vinge.

            Pavan threw up his arms. "Bloody

hell!" He squawked. "If I find out she's from Transylvania my cliché alarm is

going to explode out the wazoo!"

            Tsume gave Pavan a quizzical look.

"Pavan, Transylvania's just a region of Romania; it's not a country."

            "Clearly you haven't seen many

vampire movies -including ones that also had werewolves," Pavan returned. "They

ALWAYS take place in Transylvania."

            "I can name six off the top of my head

that don't," Lighris disagreed.

            "Guys," Vinge interjected, crossing

his arms and eyeing the others sternly. "Focus?"

            "Sorry," Pavan and Tsume returned

sheepishly. Lighris only grunted.

            "So where were you going with that?"

Aisuours asked Vinge. "You think we should find out who she really is?"

            "Even rare as black wolves are,

there are at least a thousand possibilities in every country in Eastern

Europe," replied Vinge. "But, therianthropes have the proportionate physical

strength of whatever feral animal they resemble. These lycans, and the werecats

as well, are both of species known for sheer strength." He frowned. "And our

full-time 'muscle' is back in Unity Falls, incapacitated."

            "Good thing I'm here then," said

Aisuours, perhaps a little smugly.

            "I know," replied Vinge. "This just

means we can't fight them directly. This is going to require quite a strategy

if we have to confront them. We have to be careful."

            Aisuours nodded in agreement. "Let's

just focus on one group first, then the other," he said.

            Vinge nodded back. "Right," he said.

"Let's get moving guys; we still have to find the werecats."

            "Uh... I don't think that'll be a

problem," Pavan remarked.

            "Why not?" Vinge asked, looking

over.

            Through the feathers of the wind phoenix,

he saw that Pavan's face had bleached white with fear, and he was looking up

the mountainside next to them, eyes wide with terror. "'Cuz I think they just

found us."

            Everyone spun around, following

Pavan's gaze up to the cliff, and that's where they saw it; a great, humanoid

beast covered in golden fur with a tan undertone, and a bristled, brown mane

growing from the back of the head and down the neck like a dorsal ridge. Their

limbs were bulging with powerful muscles, and the bright yellow eyes of the

werecat sent a brisk chill down the spines of the avians, moreso as they

observed the long, razor-sharp narrow claws gripping the ledge upon which the

massive werecat sat watching them, fangs bared and eliciting a low growl as

they all spotted it.

            "Ah shit," Lighris muttered. He

tensed his right arm, causing it to course with electricity as he mentally

directed power from his body into his hand...

            "Wait!" Vinge hissed. "It hasn't

attacked yet."

            "Are you going to let it?" Lighris

asked.

            "It had the perfect opportunity to

get the drop on us while we weren't looking," Vinge replied. "Why didn't it?"

            "I dunno; deciding which of us

looked more tasty?" Lighris asked. "Who gives a fuck? I'm not waiting for it to

pounce me!"

            "Lighris, wait!"

            But was too late; the lightning hawk

thrust his arm forward, shooting a bolt of lightning from pointed fingers that

shot out at the werecat; reacting to his movements the cat was out of the way

before he even launched the lightning bolt, which flew off harmlessly. With

that, the werecat landed in the snow at the bottom of the ledge, its glare

intensifying on the five of them, before it reared back its head and roared to

the sky.

            "Nice going, you idiot; now you

pissed him off!" Tsume scolded Lighris.

            The werecat sprang, using muscles

like coiled springs to launch itself through the air, arcing over Vinge, flying

past Aisuours, and landing squarely on Lighris, tackling him to the ground and

making him skid through the snow; the feline placed a paw upon his throat,

extending its claws in threat as it growled at him. Vinge turned to face them,

intent on trying to get it off of Lighris, but a low growl make him stop, and

slowly he followed his ear to the sound, to an alcove in the mountainside out

of which emerged a second werecat; this one was coloured just like the first,

but the mane it had was black like oil.

            More growls caught the ears of the

avians, and sure enough, they found themselves completely surrounded; two more

emerged from the nearby slope leading down the steep side of the mountain, a

fourth appeared on the ledge where the first had been before, this one with an

even longer bristled-back mane. And finally, a fifth fell down from above and

landed on top of Brent's truck, before kicking over the armoured hyena faster

than he could bring his gun about.

            'We

walked right into an ambush,' Vinge realized.

The werecats had them surrounded; the team had

better numbers, but two of their big guns were already down. Tsume and Pavan

drew their weapons, facing the werecats by the ledge and waiting for them to

make a move, while Lighris was still pinned to the ground; he dared not

discharge electricity from his body to blast the werecat off of him, else out

of reflex it might cut the arteries in his throat. A growl from Aisuours as he

stomped the ground and showed his fangs seemed to be all that kept them from

attacking at that very moment.

The werecat standing over Lighris glared at him

angrily for a moment, until Vinge speaking caught its attention. "Wait!" He

shouted to it. "We're not here to fight."

The werecat looked over its shoulder at him, staring

at him expectantly as it stopped growling, closing its mouth partially to hide

its fangs -although kept enough of them peeking out to show they still intended

to use them. They watched Vinge as he removed his sword, still in the scabbard,

from his belt and set it down, then kept his hands at his sides as he addressed

the Aiuranthrope.

"We're not here to hurt you," he said, speaking as

honestly as possible.

"Vinge, you're talking to wild animals with

superhumanoid powers; what the hell are you thinking?" Lighris asked, earning

an annoyed growl from the werecat still standing on him.

"Lighris, do the smart thing for once in your life

and just please shut your pie hole,"

Tsume remarked scornfully.

"What she

said!" Brent called.

"We're here to deal with the werewolves," Vinge

began, speaking once more to the werecat. "I know you can understand me. My

name is Vinge, of the Os-Nadarra Sentinels; I know it's likely you haven't

heard of us, but we are here for a reason. We know you're not the cause of the

disappearances we came here to investigate, but we just needed to be sure you

are of no danger to the people of Dawson City. If you can show me you aren't,

then we will go, and leave you in peace; you have my promise."

The werecat turned to look at Lighris briefly,

before looking over to one of its black-maned kin. The second werecat growled

and approached them, standing by Lighris and watching him while the brown-maned

one approached Vinge, walking on all fours before rising to eye level with him

and staring him right in the face. Vinge remained stoic and unmoving, letting

the werecat approach; he showed no fear, but his heart was beating fast,

staring into the face of a creature that, at that range, could kill him in a

fraction of a second, yet it bore no open hostility; its claws were retracted,

its teeth were only slightly showing, and its eyes, though the displeasure in

them was apparent, were not angry.

"Give me a reason... to trust you," it growled.

It could talk...

"It can talk?!"

Pavan squawked, eliciting a grunt as Tsume shut his beak with the blunt sides

of her katars, slamming onto the top and bottom and sharply shushing him.

"You are fighting the lycans, yes?" Vinge asked,

holding back his own surprise at the werecat's apparent ability to communicate.

He had gathered they were intelligent but did not know that, these ones at

least, still retained the vocal chords that allowed them to speak.

"They have hunted us for years," the werecat returned.

"We have tried to hide from them but always, they find us. They kill my people,

and we are too few to fight them all."

"They've been chasing you... why?" Vinge inquired.

"Because, we have seen their leader's true face,"

the werecat stated.

"The werewolf with the ruby coloured eyes," Vinge

returned without a moment of thought.

The werecat growled in reply. "So... you have seen

her too," it said.

Vinge nodded. "We fought with her yesterday; she

attacked us in the woods, east of Dawson City. That is also where we found

evidence of your people; the damage inflicted on the corpses left there was

inconsistent with a pack war. But, based on what you have told me, my previous

theory about a territorial war is out the window as well." He turned and peered

off in the distance, back towards the woodlands where they had seen the lycans.

"I'm sorry for assuming, but if what you say is true, you're fighting for

survival, not for territory."

The werecat growled again. "The one who leads the

werewolves is evil beyond imagination," it said. "She lies, manipulates,

corrupts the minds of others, and then infects them, adding them to her

ever-expanding pack." The werecat turned to look at its fellow aiurans. "She

took our home, killed the ones we cared about... running was all we could do,

and for years she has chased us across these cold lands. We number no more than

twenty now..."

Vinge studied the werecat's face for a moment; even

through their bestial features he could see the honesty in their eyes, cloaked

by the terrifying yellow glare, but still visible to those who knew how deeply

to look. With only a short thought on the matter, he looked at the others,

seeing they were still prepared for a fight. "Tsume, Pavan, Aisuours stand

down," he said. "These werecats are not our enemies."

"You sure about that?" Pavan asked.

"Trust me," Vinge said, almost pleadingly.

They looked at him doubtfully for a moment, but

eventually they complied. Tsume lowered her katars, eventually stuffing them

back into the holsters on her hips, while Pavan returned his sword to its

sheath. He had never drawn his whip, and it still hung around his shoulder, and

made no move for it. Aisuours could not put away his weapons but he lowered his

arms and relaxed his stance, returning to a proper upright posture, still

eyeing the werecats warily.

The werecat leader looked at each of them

individually, once more at Vinge, before she spoke again. "Leave us," and

without any hesitation, the werecats backed away, and sprang from the scene,

leaping up to the ledge above and disappearing from sight, all except for the

brown-maned werecat standing before Vinge.

With the werecats gone, Lighris was able to stand

up, grumbling as he dusted the snow off of his coat and shook it from his

wings. "That was getting cold," he muttered.

"A little help

here?" Brent asked, his armour rattling as he tried to stand up.

"You still haven't put any means of getting back to

your feet into that thing?" Tsume asked as Aisuours trudged over to Brent,

grasped the armoured hyena and hauled him back to his feet.

"What am I

supposed to use, retro-rockets? This armour's too light for that; I'd go into a

dozen cartwheels," returned Brent as he moved the armours limbs about, getting proper

motion back into them as the snow was pushed from the joints. "I'm working on improving it, but this

armour's just a prototype, really."

The werecat listened to their conversation before

turning to the ice phoenix again. "Your friends, I can tell are not lycans,"they

stated. "And you have the smell of their blood upon you, so it is clear you are

not their allies. But if you are a threat to us..."

"We are not," Vinge replied plainly. "I confess, we

came up here wondering if you were a threat like the lycans, but it is clear to

me now that you are the ones in danger, you and

everyone in the Yukon Territories. Perhaps we can help each other."

"How?"

"You have dealt with the lycans for longer than us,"

he said. "Maybe you can help us stop them."

The cat snarled. "You cannot ask us to fight," it

stated. "We are outnumbered, and every one of them are nearly as strong as us."

"I am not asking you to fight," Vinge returned. "Nor

can I force you. But if there's anything you can tell us about the pack leader,

anything we might use, that is enough."

The cat narrowed its eyes at him. "And you will not

do us harm in return?"

"So long as you and your people are of no threat to

anyone, you have my word that we will never take up arms against you," Vinge

said, with solemn, lucid words, never once breaking eye contact with the

werecat as he spoke.

Eventually, after eyeing him with consideration for

what felt like a half hour, the werecat stepped back from him and fell to all

fours, shutting its eyes and becoming still. Right before the eyes of the whole

group, the feline began to shrink, their body becoming thinner, the bristled

brown man relaxing and, somehow also becoming longer, and their massive paws

shrinking, becoming more like humanoid hands. It didn't take long for them to

figure out that the werecat was reverting back to their true form, to speak to

them with their true face.

They shrunk down to less than half of their size,

becoming slimmer, shorter, the long hair that was once the mane hanging around

their lowered head, hiding their face as they continued to change. When finally

the shrinking stopped, the anthro cougar that had revealed themselves as the

true form of the werecat stood up. The feminine features, such as the endowed

chest and curvaceous form were immediately apparent as the cougar stood

upright; all along, they had been female.

The cougar raised her head and looked at Vinge with

eyes that were nothing like what they had been before; they were brown now,

half-lidded and tired like, and she spoke with the voice of a mature woman,

filled with experience beyond her years. "I shall give you the benefit of the

doubt then, Vinge," she said. "You can call me... Buniq."

Pavan stood slouched and with his beak hanging open,

eye twitching slightly. "Holy crap... it was the woman the whole time... a big,

golden-furred mountain lion," he said. He relaxed, and flashed a goofy grin.

"Is it too late to say she's hot?"

Tsume and Lighris both slapped their foreheads in

dismay. "You're an idiot, Pavan," grumbled Lighris.

~~~~~

            The village of werecats was nothing

like the Os-Nàdarra had expected when they emerged from the narrow mountain

pass concealing the entrance, following the footsteps of Buniq as she led them

there. They emerged into a small valley, not a deep one but enough to block the

cold winds of the mountains, making the winter air more tolerable. The valley

would be impossible to find without wings, a helicopter, or the luck of a

leprechaun; it was far from civilization, hidden well...

            And miserable.

            They emerged from the narrow pass,

to see the collection of sparse homes. All of the snow in the valley had been

used to create several igloos in which the inhabitants ducked to hide from the

intruders, but those who had not been fortunate enough to build their own

igloos were forced to instead sleep in animal hide tents, which although were

enough to protect them from the elements, did not offer the warmth and

insulation of the snow blocks used to make the igloos. Aisuours and Brent

remained behind at the truck to wait for them, letting only the phoenixes -the

ones with the best chance of escaping if things went awry, accompany Buniq back

to her home.

            Only a few inside were actually

werecats as well. Those who were out of werecat form were revealed to in fact

be aboriginal humans, with the black hair and the dark, almost chocolate skin

-not as dark as the average African human but close- and the angular eyes a

clear indication these people were of First Nation descent.

            "These... these are all humans,"

said Tsume, stating the obvious.

            "Yes," said Buniq.

            "I think these are Eskimos,"

remarked Pavan.

            "Inuit, I'd guess," offered Lighris.

            "Correct," Buniq called from the

front. "We are from the east, from the land you call Nunavut."

            Vinge eyed her curiously at that.

"You have travelled a long way, then," he stated.

            "We have been running from the

werewolf leader for at least five years," Buniq stated as she led them over to

one of the animal hide tents, rested upon the highest point in the valley to

overlook the others. Outside of the tent, another Inuit woman, holding a folded

article of clothing, stood waiting, passing it to Buniq as she approached.

The mountain lioness nodded to the woman, speaking

to her in a dialect everyone knew was probably Inuit, but none of them actually

understood, before the woman left, eyeing the phoenixes with concern before she

proceeded towards the center of the village. Everyone was watching them from

down below. Some were still in their werecat forms, their eyes fixed on the

four phoenixes. Only Lighris returned their glares, until an elbow in the rib

from Tsume reminded him not to pick any fights.

They watched as Buniq unfurled the long, hide shirt

that had been handed to her, slipping it over her head. Pavan would have been

eyeing Buniq inappropriately until she covered up if not for Vinge shooting him

a glare that made him respectfully look away. The shirt, once it cleared her

chest, fell around her, and she proceeded to then slip on the pants that had

been left with them. Fully clothed and decent, she sat down next to the unlit

fire pit outside of her tent, picking up a couple of flint rocks, and held them

over the dry wood in the center

Tsume leaned forward. "Allow me," she requested

before holding up a hand, and Buniq let go of the two flint rocks as they were

tugged from her paws by an unseen force, watching in wonder as Tsume

terrakinetically carried the stones into the air, holding them over the wood

before she touched them together. With a wiggle of her index and middle finger

the two stones then struck together several times, showering the wood with some

sparks until it eventually caught, leaning forward an gently blowing on the

flames to stir them.

Slowly, the fire grew, and eventually caught on all

of the wood. Buniq actually smiled, and nodded gratefully to Tsume as she set

the two flints back down on the ground. She added more wood to the fire, and

the others sat down next to it with her, except for Vinge who kept back from

the fire a little, avoiding the heat.

"I sensed right away when I first saw all of you

that you were no ordinary birds," Buniq remarked, and then glanced at Tsume.

"It appears my instincts were correct."

"My name, as I mentioned earlier, is Vinge," the ice

phoenix began introductions. "This is Pavan..."

"We're phoenixes!" Pavan chimed gleefully,

interrupting Vinge. "I'm Wind, Tsume here is Earth, short blue guy next to

-ow!" Pavan recoiled from an elbow to the shoulder. "Next to me is Lighris -you

saw his lightning for yourself. And our big boss there," he gestured to Vinge.

"Is ice."

Buniq turned her gaze to Vinge. "You must feel right

at home, here in the north."

Vinge shrugged. "Home is not the climate, it is

where I make it," he said. "But this place does indeed make me feel stronger;

the cold air is like fuel."

"Meanwhile the rest of us just get frostbite,"

Lighris remarked. "Probably lucky my brother didn't come after all."

"You have a brother?" Buniq asked.

"Yep," replied Lighris.

"Another elemental of lightning, like you?"

"Funnily enough, no," replied Lighris. "Volcan's

actually a Fire Phoenix. Long story."

Buniq nodded. "For another time, perhaps," she said,

folding her palms across her lap. "Now... you asked me to tell you about the

lycans and their leader."

"Before you do, I'm curious," said Pavan. "Where the

heck did you learn English if you're Inuit?"

"My father, Adlartok, taught me," she replied. "He

learned it because he sometimes did business in the city of Iqaluit, selling

fish."

"Ah," replied Pavan.

"Now then, shall I begin?" Buniq asked.

"Yes, please," returned Vinge.

Buniq took in a deep breath through her nostrils,

holding it for a moment before she released it slowly. "I want you all to

understand, this is a very difficult topic for me to discuss, so I ask that you

be patient with me."

"We understand," assured Vinge.

She stared at the fire, contemplating the words to

use to tell her story, shifting her position on the cold dirt ground below her

before she began. "I suppose to start, I should tell you this; we know her as Assiminik."

"Assimilate?" Pavan asked.

"She said 'Assiminik', Pavan," corrected Lighris.

"An Inuit name," Vinge added.

"So... she's one of your people?" Tsume asked.

The look

Tsume received from Buniq, so sharp and filled with resentment, could have

stopped the gears of a clock dead, fixing her with a glare as hard as any Vinge

could muster; the look was enough to make Tsume recoil and Lighris to tense

with the same thought, ready to stop her if she decided to lash out.

"Do not ever... say that again," retorted Buniq.

Tsume blinked twice before she mustered a weak

apology to Buniq, and the cougar slowly relaxed. "Forgive me," she bade,

lowering her head. "I just despise that woman so much... but to answer your

question, no; she is not one of us. She was an outlander, whom we rescued from

the cold depths of the ocean near our village -one of our fishermen caught her

in his net one day and hauled her to the shore, half-drowned, nearly freezing

to death, and starving.

"We nursed her back to health, and when she awoke,

she claimed she had no memory of who she once was. I still do not know if her

amnesia was truth or a lie, but we named her, and let her stay in the village

until she was well enough to leave and find her way back home again. She did

her part to contribute, and many of the men in the village, despite normally

being wary of outsiders, took a liking to her. Some even asked if she could

stay."

"What did she look like?" Vinge asked.

"Tall, strong, fur the colour of charcoal and scalp

hair, as long as mine but worn over one of her eyes usually; her hair was as

black as ink, and those red eyes of hers, so unnatural and full of a cruel

intellect we all saw too late," explained Buniq. "Most of us gave her the

benefit of the doubt, causing us to let our guard down around her... and that

is when she made her move.

"Only a year after being taken in by us, I woke in

the night to heated voices, and stepped outside of my hut to see her arguing with

my father, with almost half of the village men and several of the women

standing with her; she was demanding leadership of the village be turned over

to her, and my father -the true leader at the time, refused her. It was then

she revealed what she really was; transforming right in front of his eyes, she

clawed him, tearing out his throat and his eyes in one swipe of her great paw.

"I ran to my father's side..." Her face soured, her

head lowering again and her fingers clenching into fists, knuckles cracking as

she continued. "I held him as he died... he could not even see me or speak to

me, so mutilated as he was, and as the last of the life slipped from him... I

let my own other side out." She raised her gaze again. "I changed, and I

attacked Assiminik."

"Wait, you changed?" Vinge asked, interjecting for a

moment. "You were already a werecat?"

"I have been one for as long as I can remember,"

replied Buniq. "I do not know where I received the curse -perhaps I was born

with it. My father, Adlartok, was never sure either."

"He couldn't tell you?" Tsume asked.

Lighris narrowed his eyes. "I think I see where this

is going," he said. "Why everyone in this village except you is a human."

Vinge, who shared Lighris' suspicions, felt a pang

of guilt and sympathy as he finished Lighris' statement for him. "You're a

foster child," he said, plainly.

Buniq nodded. "You understand how I know the views

of my people on outsiders," she said. "I earned their trust over the course of

my life. Assiminik received hers, however, through other means."

"Meaning what?" Pavan asked.

"She had been bedding some of the men in the

village, as well as a few of the women -some of them even the wives of those

men," replied Buniq. "And through that intercourse, she infected them all."

Vinge's eyes widened as the realization dawned on

him. "By Odin," he whispered. "All of the people who supported her uprising..."

"You are correct," Buniq interjected. "She made them

wolf creatures like herself." Buniq shut her eyes in a melancholic manner as she

carried on. "The whole village turned on itself, then. After I knocked

Assiminik to the ground her new followers leapt into action and attacked the

others who still stood up to her. In all of the confusion, several of the

villagers fled; I tried to help fight, but eventually I ran too. Thank the

spirits that not even a werewolf is faster than me; soon I outran them, and was

safe.

"I knew I could not waste time mourning; the other

villagers were still out there. I gathered who I could find, mostly young men,

children and their mothers. No more than fifteen of us had escaped. I gathered

them, and convinced them that we needed to leave, and so we began to head west.

Sometimes, Assiminik's followers caught up to us; I knew we were getting

nowhere, and so I made the survivors an offer, to grant them my power so that

they at least had a chance..."

"And so you made them werecats," said Vinge.

"Yes," replied Buniq. "The children were too young,

so they were not changed, but as any good mother, I feel, would do, they

accepted -they were willing to sacrifice their humanity to save their little

ones. Though it made me sick to my stomach, I used my bite to pass my curse

onto them, and within the next few nights they became Aiuranthropes, and we

kept on running, far from our homeland."

"You said there were only fifteen of you," said

Vinge glancing over his shoulder to the shelters. "I am sure there are more

than fifteen here."

"Sometimes, Assiminik's pack managed to get ahead of

us if we stopped for too long," explained Buniq. "Those who escaped her wrath,

I found. Nobody else, except those who ased for it, became Werecats, but our

group became larger until we eventually numbered forty. By then, we were here,

and the ocean barred our way, and so we fled back to the mountains. But along

the way, we encountered some of her pack once more."

"And we know the rest from there," said Lighris.

"You fought back, and we found the carnage left behind."

"You have not been in this valley for long, have

you?" Vinge asked, barely even as a question, as he already knew the answer.

"No, we have not," replied Buniq. "We have been here

only a few days. We went as far from the city of Dawson as we could, but I fear

that place is Assiminik's goal. She has taken every remote village that has little

to no contact with your cities -she has passed through the mountain barrier,

and now her pack hides in the woodlands to the West, dangerously close to that

city."

"Which is why we have to stop them," Vinge stated

firmly, starting to pace idly. "Buniq, you've seen Assiminik's pack, and so has

one of our own companions. He says they number the hundreds; how many have you

seen?"

Buniq considered the question for a moment, her eyes

drifting to the upper right corner of her socket, thinking long and hard, before

she gave an answer. "I would say he is correct; her pack will be over two

hundred by now."

"Two hundred?" Lighris echoed. "Shit... I didn't

even know there were that many werewolves on the planet, let alone all in one

pack!"

"There's one more thing," replied Buniq.

"Assiminik's affliction; it's different than mine -not only by species, but by

how infectious it is. Whenever I bit one of my people to turn them it took four

days for them to undergo their first change."

"That's consistent with therianthropic lore," Vinge

remarked.

"I have seen someone bitten by Assiminik change in

less than a minute," replied Buniq.

The four phoenixes gawked at her in awe, barely

believing what they had just heard from her. Pavan teetered on his seat,

looking ready to faint, while Tsume put a hand to her head absently, staring at

the ground in horror. Lighris scratched his head irritably, before he gruffly

stated.

"And infections vary only by a person's immune

system," he said. "So anyone bitten by this bitch will change just as fast,

give or take a few seconds." He turned to Vinge. "We can't fight that ourselves

Vinge; loathe as I am to admit it, Assiminik can make reinforcements for herself

faster than we can kill them."

"With two hundred lycans, she can take Dawson City

in a matter of hours," said Vinge. "And with the thirteen hundred people she

would infect from that town's population, she could take Whitehorse in less

than a day. She's been biding her time, patiently waiting until her pack was

large enough to be a small army. Now she's going to make it into the largest

army of monsters to ever walk the Earth!" He turned to Buniq. "Thank you for

everything you have told us, Buniq. But we have to go now; we have to get to

Dawson and contact someone for help."

"Who the heck is going to help us all the way up

here?" Pavan asked.

Vinge hesitated to give an answer, the words dying

in his throat. He didn't actually know who

they were going to contact for help... there was nobody in the world who was

equipped or trained to deal with something like this.

But Lighris answered it, with a firm, strong voice.

"The Airforce, that's who," he stated as he stood up from his seat on the rock,

brushing the snow from his backside before turning his gaze towards the south,

though there was nothing but rock wall in that direction as far as he could

see. But it was not at the wall he was staring; it was somewhere much further

than that. "Back to Dawson; I think I'm about overdue to give my grandpa a

call..."

~~~~~

-Fort MacAingeal, Location:

Classified-

            "Spread out up there!" Joseph

practically yelled into the radio as he watched the F-16 fighter planes flying

above, shaking his head at the carelessness of the rookie pilots as they nearly

collided with one another. "Maintain minimum safe distance from each other;

this isn't a damned competition! One of you wrecks those planes, and you'll be

scrubbing out the toilets for the next six months, you hear me?"

            Joseph Torcuil MacAingeal, Chief

Warrant Officer of Fort MacAingeal -named in his honor for serving more than a

hundred years in the Canadian forces, as well as being the first phoenix to

ever be part of the national military, dating back to before the First World

War, in which he had fought, as well as the Second World War, Korea, Vietnam,

and nearly every operation ever overseen by the Canadian Air Force, of which he

had been one of the first pilots in the force.

            He was also the squad leader of

Canada's most elite pilots, known affectionately as The Hornets -named for

their choice of aircraft, the F-18 Super Hornet. While most C.W.O's might

remain at the base to command from the ground, Joseph outright refused any such

lifestyle. Having lost his wing in the First World War in an aerial dogfight,

Joseph was already confined to the ground for the rest of his life, unless he

was in a plane, and so he would never, under any circumstance, be denied his

right to fly. Not until he was out of his prime...

            The higher-ups of the military would

be waiting about four thousand years for that.

            And now, here he was, training more

pilots to join the Canadian forces; his squadron had not been in action for

some time, so he voluntarily put his experience to good use by training the

next generation of fliers. Using decommissioned F-16 Fighting Falcons, retrofitted

for training purposes, he sought to teach these men how to fly as if they were

one with the wind itself. And though he found himself frustrated by their

impulsiveness, they showed potential.

            "Chief."

            Joseph turned to the voice, spotting

one of his lieutenants approaching him, the lower-ranked officer saluting him

as he stood before him until Joseph told him to be at ease. "I'm sorry to

disturb you, Chief, but there's a call for you on your personal phone."

            "From who?" The one-winged phoenix

asked.

            "From your grandson, Lighris," he

replied.

            Joseph tilted his head curiously.

"From Lighris? Huh; that boy rarely ever calls me," he remarked, putting a hand

on his chin and stroking it in thought before turning to the officer. "Take

over here; I'll go see what's happening."

            "Yes sir."

            Walking around the pilot,

Joseph headed for the stairs leading down into the main terminal of the air

base, striding down the steps with surprising grace born from being stuck on

the ground for nearly a century now, and landed on the main floor, where he

left the stairwell and made a left for his office, other officers saluting him

as he passed, until he reached the door to his office, stepped through and

approached the desk, where his cellphone sat, open, on the desk.

            It wasn't exactly protocol to answer

a personal phone while on duty, but at Fort MacAingeal, it was usually too

quiet to be concerned with protocol. He picked the phone off his desk, holding

it to his ear. "Hello?"

            "Hey,

grandpa Joe; long time no see," the voice of his eldest grandson spoke to

him through the earpiece.

            "I'll say. How are you, m'boy?"

Joseph asked.

            "Well...

actually I'm up in the Yukon right now," replied Lighris. "There's something going on up here you

should know about."

            Joseph scowled slightly. "Why do I

get the feeling I am not going to like this?"

            "You

probably won't," Lighris replied, bluntly. "What do you know about werewolves?"

            "Big, ugly and a pain in the arse to

fight; why?"

            "I'm

just going to go straight to the point; there are about two-hundred of them

-and I'm not exaggerating this- we think heading for Dawson City."

            Joseph's excited yell was heard

outside of the office, making several passing troops and staff jump in

surprise. "Two hundred?!" He

bellowed. "How can that many werewolves possibly be all in one place?"

            "Look,

I know it sounds crazy, but we're certain of it; I'm up here with my team,

we've seen the werewolves, and their leader -some sort of alpha bitch, is damn

smart. We need your help; we can't take these things all by ourselves."

            "I'm not saying I don't believe you, Lighris," began

Joseph. "But if you want the support of the Hornets, I need proof to show the

higher-ups, or they'll never authorize a deployment. I scramble fighters

without that, and it turns out to be a wild goose chase, demotion's the least

of what I'll have to worry about."

            Almost as if on cue, his phone

beeped, indicating a multi-media message. "That

should about do it," Lighris replied.

He pulled it away from his ear, tapping the speaker

button before opening the photo that Lighris had sent him, and found himself

looking upon an overhead view of a snowy landscape, covered in black spots.

But, on closer inspection, he saw that these 'spots' had shape; the shape of

canines, down on all fours, minus a few that seemed to be looking up towards

the photographer and growling at them. On that image alone, Joseph saw more

than two-dozen lycanthropes, each one of them big and powerful-looking.

"...Sly move, m'boy," complimented Joseph. "I don't

know if this will warrant deployment of my squadron but it might get the Yukon's

army mobilized, and if they so require it then we might see some action too. I

know the commanding officer of a base not too far from Dawson -he works fast,

and can be there soon."

"How soon?"

"Twenty four hours at most; eight at least," replied

Joseph.

"Try to tell

him to hurry; these lycans get closer to Dawson by the hour," urged Lighris. "If it comes to it, we'll try and hold the

town; we might be able to stall them."

"Now just hold on there, Lighris," stated Joseph.

"Don't you go getting caught up in this; this is dangerous. Situations like

this are why countries have armies."

"Like with the

Cyber Wyvern attack last year?" Lighris reminded. "Sorry to say, grandpa, as much as we need the army's help, we don't

need their permission. We've already fought these things, and we're in the area. If your buddy up here

doesn't get here fast enough we're about the only line of defense Dawson City

has; a town of thirteen hundred people doesn't exactly have a substantial

police force to fight for it."

Joseph groaned. "Alright, fine. Just contact the

town sheriff and show him what you've shown me," Joseph explained. "Have him

contact me or Colonel Rory McKinnen at Fort Coldspine -that's the guy I'm

calling on. Everyone with a car has to evacuate the town; if the wolf pack

swarms it we may have to bombard it, buildings and all."

"You got it," returned Lighris.

"You be damn careful up there, boy," Joseph stated.

"If I have to tell my daughter one of her sons is dead, I'm going to very displeased with you."

Lighris chuckled grimly. "Please, gramps; it's going to take a lot more than some lycans to take

down any grandson of yours."

With that, he hung up, and Joseph slowly set down

the phone without looking at it, standing and staring at his desk for a moment

before he reached over for the corded phone on his desk, waiting until it

connected. "Get me the C.O of Fort Coldspine, stat," he commanded.

~~~~~

            Vinge stood atop the roof of the

Polar Rest motel, his gaze focused on the north-east from the town, in the

direction of the lycanthropes, watching and waiting for when they would appear.

Less than an hour ago, Lighris had informed him that he had gotten in touch with

his grandfather in the Canadian Airforce, and that he was sending help for the

town. Despite knowing that the Canadian Army was on its way to help, he still

felt uneasy...

Could involving them only make matters worse? Most

of the Yukon's population consisted of canines and humans -including the

military presence there, and they were beings susceptible to the curse of

lycanthropy. If they failed, Assiminik's pack would still grow larger. Albeit

not as large as if she got the chance to raid Dawson City, but still enough she

would remain a threat.

It couldn't be helped; assembling a platoon of

soldiers who would be immune to the curse would take days, and they didn't have

days. The werewolves could descend upon Dawson at any moment. They needed

fighters, and the ones at Coldspine were all there was in the area, besides the

Os-Nadarra already there.

He heard a grunt, and looked to his right to see

Tsume climbing over the side of the roof, lifting herself up on her hands and

swinging her legs over the side before approaching Vinge. "Michaels just got a

call from the town sheriff," she explained. "McKinnen is already on his way,

and he's ordered the force here to start evacuating the town. They're going to

be heading south to Beaver Creek."

"That should be more than far enough," said Vinge,

nodding in agreement.

"Where's Pavan?" Tsume asked.

"I asked him to keep watching the lycan's

movements," stated Vinge. "And not to land no matter what he saw; I have no

doubt by now Assiminik knows we're watching her."

"You don't think she'll alter her plan?" Tsume

asked.

"Even if she does, it's too late; her position has

been compromised," replied Vinge. "The army is onto her, the town she's

targeting is clearing out. She'll either go through with her plan or she'll

retreat, but now that we know of her, she'll have nowhere to run. This is a

situation affectionately called 'do or die'."

"Or 'backed into a corner'," Tsume remarked, putting

a hand on her hip. "This setback could make her angry."

Vinge actually smiled. "That's what I'm trying to

do."

Tsume blinked her brown eyes several times before

stepping back from him. "You scare me sometimes," she remarked.

"Anger is fuel," Vinge stated. "It'll drive you

forward, and it's a powerful weapon in and of itself, but it's a double-edged

sword that can just as easily be repelled back at its wielder. I make Assiminik

angry, she'll start thinking rashly."

"After building up her pack for so long, you have to

admit she's probably really patient," Tsume remarked, "You sure that you can rile

her up just like that?"

"Perhaps not, but either way she'll have to come up

with a decision quickly," replied Vinge, "The longer she waits the worse off

she will be. Besides, a strategist hates nothing more than having a carefully

laid-out plan go awry; that I can say from experience."

Before the conversation could progress any further,

the two phoenixes saw a winged form coming their way; looking closely they saw

it was Pavan, descending down from the sky above. Vinge stepped aside as the

wind phoenix swooped in and soared across the rooftop before angling backward

and beating his wings in reverse, slowing himself until he could come to a stop

and land. He landed into a jog, circling around and running up to Vinge.

"The wolfie's are on the move," he reported. "They

just reached Tombstone Park."

"Ominous name," remarked Tsume.

"If they've hit the park, they're not far away,"

stated Vinge. "Go back and check their status; if we're lucky they're stopping

for a rest. But no matter what you see, do not

land."

"What if someone's in trouble?" Pavan asked.

"There would be no one there this time of year,"

replied Vinge. "So if you see anyone in trouble, it might be a ruse, so if

they're not of a species immune to lycanthropy, then they cannot be trusted."

"Vinge, that's kind of cold, don't you think?" Pavan

asked. "Er... no pun intended; not that time anyway."

"We've already learned from Buniq that Assiminik is

a master of deception," Vinge pointed out. "She successfully deceived a whole

Inuit village, long enough to infect them all without anyone ever finding out

what she was doing. We can't take any chances." He shut his eyes. "I don't want

to sound heartless, but you all agreed to make me leader of this team. I am not

like Volcan; he thinks with his heart, but I think with my head.

"Were there still people in danger out there he

would risk his own life to help them all, even if he had to do it alone, and

you guys would follow him. But I don't think like that; I will not risk the people

I lead without good reason. We know what the enemy is, but we don't yet know

who they are, and that means we have to be cautious. Let the enemy come to us,

but we must not let them draw us in."

Pavan tilted his head, crossing his eyes. "I'm

worried... I think that almost made sense to me," he remarked.

Tsume giggled before raising a hand to tap the side

of Pavan's head. "Something up here after all," she remarked.

"Hey come on...

~~~~~

-Meanwhile, east of Dawson

City-

            The convoy of soldiers, all aboard

Armoured Personnel Carriers and light vehicles with mounted guns, rolled down

the road noisily as they made their way from Fort Coldspine to Dawson City.

They were briefed only in that there was a possibly Lycanthropy outbreak moving

towards the city, and that they were to sterilize the threat. Armed with

explosive weapons -grenade launchers, namely, and high-powered equipment, they

sped down the road as fast as the APC's could muster, urged on by the threat.

            At the lead, the driver of the first

vehicle, along with his comrade -both of them wolves, were sharing a bottle of

water between the two, and swapping stories about their training days, when

they saw a figure in the road and slowly rolled the transport to a stop. They

stare in wonderment, trying to discern just what it was they were looking at.

The figure ahead was... oddly feminine looking, with

fur as dark as the night, and hair even darker -as black as oil, standing

completely naked in the road, arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to ward

off the chill of the wind, the shivering and looking ready to fall over at any

moment. She was a wolf, like them, tall and athletic, and looked up, lifting

one arm from her chest to wave at them.

"What the hell is that lady doing all the way out

here?" The passenger asked.

"Maybe we should help her?" The driver suggested.

"Yeah... but just in case, I'm bringing my gun," the

passenger replied, reaching down by his feet to produce an AK-101 -the chosen

weapon for their mission, and climbed out of the truck, followed promptly by

the driver.

They approached the wolfess, putting up their arms

to shield their faces from the wind as they neared her. They tried not to look

at her sculpted body, exposed for their eyes to see, as they tromped through

the snow on the road to reach her, stopping when they were only a few steps

away. "Ma'am; are you alright?" The driver asked. "What're you doing out here;

are you in some kind of trouble?"

Just like that, the wolfess seemed to stop

shivering, and slowly turned to face them, the window tossing her hair about

and concealing most of her face behind it, but one ruby red eye stared at them

from beneaths the dense locks. "Not at all," she replied, her voice heavily

accented. "But you just might be, soldiers."

Before they could ask what she meant by that, she pulled

her other hand away from her chest, raising a queer-looking, evidently

home-made device, with a blinking red light on the front. She pressed a button

with her thumb, and suddenly the wind was drowned out by deafening explosions.

The two soldiers whirled around, seeing their entire

convoy going up in flames. The APC's, sturdy enough to withstand the blasts,

toppled over with all of their tires ruptured and the armour plating warped and

scarred by the blast. However, the lighter armoured jeeps were not so

fortunate, the gas flowing through them igniting when the flames of the concealed

explosives found them. They watched in horror as several of their comrades in

the vehicles were caught in the blast.

The passenger turned his rifle on the wolfess,

taking aim straight for her skull with the barrel of his gun. "You bitch!" He

growled.

The wolfess moved her head out of the way, less than

a second before the muzzle flash, and in one single blinding movement she

delivered an inverted kick directly to his face, sending a tooth flying as her

heel struck his face. The driver went for his sidearm, only for her to grab the

gun just as he slid it free of its holster, stopping it, and then with a

single, pointed finger, she struck his eye. The finger was tipped by a claw

that should not have been there, and it buried deep into his eye, making him

scream in agony and drop his pistol.

By now, the other soldiers had already broken open

the doors of the fallen APC's and were scrambling to get out, but the first

ones to exit were suddenly grabbed and pulled out of view, hollering in terror.

Their comrades, rushing out with rifles in hand, saw that they had been

blindsided by a pack of werewolves hiding in the snow who were now leaping out

like trapdoor spiders when prey was near, and throwing themselves upon the

soldiers. Any who were human or canine-species were dragged to be bitten, but

those were not were killed where they stood.

Gunfire filled the air as the Canadian soldiers

fought back; a few lycans went down, but there were too many for the platoon,

especially with their heavy weapons lost and having already been surrounded by

enemies, they were swiftly overwhelmed by superior numbers and the element of

surprise.

The passenger soldier, after recovering from the

kick to the face, tried to sit up, but was suddenly seized by the wolfess, who,

in an impossible feat of strength despite there being no way she could be that

strong naturally, lifted the male wolf up with minimal effort, tactical gear

and all, by his throat. He choked as she held him up there, but her grip

loosened after a moment and she brought him almost nose-to-nose with her, a

diabolical grin on her face.

"Welcome to the pack, soldier," she said, flashing a

mouthful of sharp teeth.

The soldier could only cry out in pain as she bit

down on his neck hard enough to draw blood...

~~~~~

BOOM!

(Play Halloween Music 'Night of the Werewolf' by Brandon Fiechter on

Youtube)

It was distant, and not that loud, but it was enough

to catch the ears of the three avians, turning in the direction of the

explosion to see a column of fire and smoke rising into the sky from the main

road reading towards town. They stared in stunned silence for a moment, before

the sound of gunfire reached their ears, and that was when Vinge and Pavan took

to the skies, leaving Tsume to go tell the other as they departed with all

haste.

Pavan stirred up a wind tunnel for them, generating

currents of air that they could ride on with their wings, carrying them forward

with greater speed than Vinge could fly on his own. Pavan, during the flight,

lifted his whip from his shoulder, making sure he had it ready for what would

likely be a fight soon. Vinge didn't voice it, but as they soared towards the

point of the explosion, he had a sinking suspicion he knew what they were going

to find...

It took only moments for them to come in sight of

the destruction, just in time to see a soldier falling from the grasp of a

tall, lean female, while numerous other soldiers were mauled by scores of

lycanthropes. Without a moment of hesitation, they descended, landing near the

female wolfess as she stood over the soldier; the sound of their feet hitting

the snow caught her attention, and she whirled about to face them, her

extra-long hair whipping about as she turned.

As soon as Vinge saw those ruby-red eyes glaring

back at him, he immediately knew just who it was he was looking at...

"Assiminik," he said, his voice low.

The wolfess' eyes widened with clear intrigue as she

heard that name come from the beak of someone who she had never seen before.

"So you know the name given to me by the Inuit?" She asked; Vinge immediately

detected an accent in her voice, and kept listening, hoping he could place it

if he heard more. "Interesting... that can only mean that you've encountered a

certain werecat, da?"

At 'da', Vinge immediately identified the accent.

"Russian," he whispered, before he replied. "So what if I have?"

"Well... you have seen my face now," replied the

wolfess. "By all accounts, I should kill you just as I will soon kill her when

I find her." She smiled. "But... having phoenixes on my side would be a fine

addition to the army I am building, so I..."

"Save it," Vinge interjected. "You're going to try

and make a deal with us; to spare us or offer us a place in your so-called

'army' in exchange for us telling you where to find the werecats." He scoffed.

"You can go right to hell, bitch."

"Whoa... hearing that kind of talk from you, Vinge?," Pavan remarked.

"Not now!" The ice phoenix hissed.

"Well, you're correct about the offer to join me,"

replied Assiminik. "But if you're going to refuse that, then I can't spare you

even for information." Her face contorted into a scowl. "None may know my

secret, not yet... so you two will have to die."

Several of the lycans that had gathered behind her

started to advance, but Assiminik put up her hand. "Nyet," she stated. "I will

handle this myself."

"You, against two phoenixes, lady?" Pavan asked.

"Look, you're damn hot... and... naked, but we killed a chunk of your pack

yesterday, all of them in werewolf form, and then all of you got run off by

Aisuours. You think you can take us all by yourself?"

Assiminik only grinned. "Come and find out then, nemnogo gavno," she returned.

Pavan tilted his head curiously. "Erm... what did

she say?" He asked.

"She just called you a 'little shit'," replied

Vinge.

"...Oh, it's on now."

Vinge glanced at Pavan. "Don't underestimate her;

she may be more dangerous than she looks."

"If she's even half as dangerous as Tsume, then I'll be worried," retorted Pavan,

before he let out a whoop and lashed out his whip at Assiminik.

With blinding speed, and impossible reflexes, the

wolfess actually caught the end of the whip before it could fully snap out,

barely even batting an eye as it was caught in her palm. Pavan gawked, and then

Assiminik grabbed the whip with her other hand, yanking it from his grasp

before she whirled about in a fully spun, and the handle end of the whip flew

around and struck Pavan while he was still staring, making him reel with the

slightly heavier and tougher grip of the leathery weapon.

"Ow... okay, eating my own words now," remarked

Pavan, laying in the snow.

Vinge drew his ropera, twirling it in his hand

before, with a wave of his other, he formed a dozen ice spheres from the snow

at his feet, raising them to float around them as he stepped towards Assiminik.

When he was halfway to her, he cast the spheres her way, sending all of them

hurling towards her one at a time. She dodged the first, the second, the third,

took a graze to the hip by the fourth, dodged the next three with a leap,

taking the eighth in the arm but barely flinching, and then dropped to all

fours, avoiding the last ones, before she sprang at Vinge, leaping like...

well, a werewolf, but she was still in anthro form, even as she hurtled across

the air at him like an owl swooping in for the kill.

Vinge spun away, leaping out of her path, and as she

regained her balance, he stabbed his sword at her, aiming for her eye; she

ducked, and then dodged to the right as he thrust the blade at her again. She

moved in closer; he swung, aiming for her vulnerable neck. She stuck out her

arm, slapping the inside of his wrist to stop his swing, before, in one deft

motion, she wrapped her arm around his, twisted herself sharply, and dislocated

Vinge's shoulder.

Vinge hollered in pain, and then grunted as

Assiminik's knee struck him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. His

vision went hazy as he fell to the ground, clutching his stomach and coughing.

The pain was unbelievable, and her speed was unnatural; lycans were fast, but

she was still in anthropomorphic form! And the method of her fighting was not

that of some beast or brawler; she knew how to inflict harm, with expert

precision and brutality alike.

Pavan, now back up, had retrieved his whip and

lashed it out at Assiminik again, which she once more caught, but as she tried

to yank it away again, this time Pavan held firm. "Not this time, toots!"

She grinned, before she pulled even harder, and

suddenly Pavan's feet left the ground; he continued to hold onto the whip, even

as he was swung through the air overhead, but then decided to let go, resulting

in him being thrown into the sky, but with a quick beat of his wings, he

regained control. "Alright; time for the old fly-by dicer!" He whispered before

he drew his khanda, falling into a dive and plunging towards the ground. The

wind phoenix circled around until Assiminik was in his sights, soaring at her

full tilt and rearing back, folding his wings, and whirling himself about; at

this velocity, his top-heavy khanda could strike with enough force to cut

through even a wooden beam.

But he felt it hit nothing, because even at the

speed he was going, Assiminik managed to evade his attack by leaping backward,

arching herself through the air and curling her tail inward to avoid the blade

as it narrowly whizzed past her feet. She did a full backflip, landing back on

her feet again, and watched as Pavan, pushing aside his disbelief at

Assiminik's incredible agility, circled around again and this time, came in

directly, intent on slashing her from the other directly.

As soon as he landed and swung, she ducked; strands

of hair were taken by the blade but no harm befell Assiminik herself, and just

as Pavan started to do his spin to attack her again, she lunged forward,

throwing herself into his back and lashing her arm across his neck, bringing

her arm against his windpipe and applying pressure. In that instant, Pavan

could not breathe; he dropped his sword and grabbed her arm, trying to pull it

off, but her grip was powerful. Not only was she agile, but she was taller and

stronger than the Wind Phoenix, and with him unable to move or exhale, Pavan

couldn't use his powers.

Assiminik was grinning even as she choked the Wind

Phoenix, complete disregard for his life apparent in her eyes. Pavan kept

struggling as the pressure against his throat increased, even feebly trying to

elbow or kick her, though he lacked the flexibility to really land a solid hit,

and his vision started to darken as his lungs burned for air...

A razor sharp pain shot across Assiminik's back.

She yelled in pain, her grip on Pavan loosening

enough that he finally pulled her arm away, collapsing to his knees and gasping

for breath. She callously kicked him in the side to knock him over, before

reaching behind her and pulling whatever had stricken her out of her back,

staring a sharp needle of solid ice.

She leered at Vinge, and saw the Ice Phoenix was

back on his feet and glaring back at her, his sword now held in his left hand as

his right hung uselessly at his side. The ice phoenixes face was contorted in

both pain and anger as he faced the wolfess. Assiminik snarled at him, and then

leapt towards him, and then charged. He waited until she was close, before he

breathed a cone of ice from his beak, freezing the ground and causing her to

slip. She wheeled herself through the air to land on all fours, looking up as

she slid towards Vinge, who had his sword pulled back in readiness to stab.

She tucked in, rolled, and then delivered a kick

with both of her feet right to his chest. The force of her strike was

impossible, even for a wolfess of her height, as Vinge was sent flying through

the air, landing on his back almost ten feet away, feeling searing hot pain

across his ribs, wondering if one of them was broken from the kick. He gasped

for breath, and tried to sit up, but Assiminik was on him in a flash instant,

pinning him down and baring her fangs.

"Even if you were a canine I would not waste time

turning you into a werewolf," she stated as she held up one paw, claws growing

from her fingers right before Vinge's very eyes. "You're not worth the trouble;

I'll settle for that town instead!"

As she raised her paw to eviscerate the ice phoenix,

a gunshot caused her to freeze, and she looked up to see a truck speeding

towards the scene, in the back of which was a colossal armoured figure, armed

with a machine gun and firing a spray of bullets at the werewolves. Running

alongside the speeding truck was the great black-furred bear, Aisuours, his

thundering steps felt even beneath the snow as he charged, fangs bared.

She hesitated, and then turned her attention back on

Vinge, still clearly not intent on sparing him, but as she raised her claws

again to do the deed, the ground next to her exploded, and the familiar face of

Tsume appeared from the spontaneous hold in the snow leading into the dirt;

Tsume lunged forward with speed surprising even for her, and buried her Katar

deep into Assiminik's exposed belly.

Assiminik howled and leapt away, the katar pulled

free in the process, and she clutched the wound with her paw, stumbling

backward for a moment as she grit her teeth through the pain. She looked at the

wound briefly, seeing her blood-soaked paw, and then realized she no longer had

the advantage; the werewolves with her were no more numerous than the ones she

had the last time she had faced this party, and that bear alone was so powerful

even twenty lycans counted for nothing.

Immediately, she began to change, her body growing

in size rapidly right before the eyes of both Vinge and the battle-ready Tsume

who stood over him, keeping herself between the werewolf and Ice Phoenix. They

watched as her arms became think and powerful like those of a professional

bodybuilder, her legs thickening to match as her pawed feet morphed into

clawed, canine paws. The fur of her body bristled into needles as she fell to

all fours, and her muzzle thickened and became slightly longer while her hair

retracted into a spiny mane on the back of her neck.

Her eyes reopened, revealing those ruby-red orbs

once again, and she unleashed a powerful roar. The lycans near the destroyed

military convoy scattered and ran fled across the countryside, taking a few

hits from Brent but successfully outrunning the Os-Nàdarra as the truck slid to

a stop near Vinge and Pavan. Aisuours unleashed a powerful roar as the

werewolves fled, and the strength of his voice seemed to make them actually

move faster.

"Cowards," he growled.

            Tsume lowered her weapons, turning

to Vinge and dropping to his side. "Are you okay?" She asked.

            "I'll live," replied Vinge as she

helped him sit up, coughing a couple of times as he did. "But Dawson City is in

more danger than ever now..."

            Lighris, after getting out of the

truck, turning his attention to the ruined vehicles of the military convoy,

stepping towards them in disbelief until his foot hit something metallic. He

looked down, seeing a large piece of pipe, half destroyed, sitting by his foot.

He reached down, picked it up and studied the damage to it, seeing how the open

end was split like something had burst out from the inside, and knew

immediately what he was looking at.

            "A pipe bomb," he said, before

turning to the vehicles, seeing the utterly destroyed road beneath them, the

scattered asphalt, husks of the light vehicles and overturned APC's. "A few

pipe bombs couldn't do this; she must've had a thousand of them all over the

road. This whole section was booby-trapped."

            "She knew the convoy was coming,"

stated Aisuours.

            "And

not only did she stop it, she increased her ranks again," Brent stated as

he noticed how very few bodies were actually present on the grim scene. "We called for help from the freaking

military and even that didn't stop her."

            "And now," Vinge concluded. "There's nothing stopping her from

attacking Dawson before the people can evacuate... nothing, except us."

            Tsume looked at Vinge closely.

"But... what can we do?"

            Vinge looked at her with a

determined expression. "I'm still working that part out..." He replied, grimly.

~~~~~

            The air was tense back at the motel

when the Os-Nadarra returned, wondering what to do next. Lighris was on the

phone with his grandfather once again, while Tsume and Aisuours were seeing to

Vinge and Pavan, helping them while they recovered from their battle with

Assiminik. A sickening crack filled the room as Aisuours helped Vinge pop his

dislocated shoulder back into place, and keeping him steady as they waited for

the pain to subside.

            Meanwhile, Tsume was dabbing, with a

hot cloth, an open cut on Pavan's head, caused by when his whip had struck him

before. In the heat of the conflict he hadn't even noticed the strike had

actually split skin. "That bitch was crazy as hell," Pavan said. "I don't know

if she's more dangerous in lycan form or out of it; she kicked our asses all

over the place. How the heck could she have been so tough?"

            Vinge nodded in thanks to Aisuours

after the pain in his arm slowly ebbed away enough that he could do with

rubbing it to ease the rest, before the ice phoenix proceeded to address the

others. "I don't think she was any ordinary woman, lycanthropy aside," said

Vinge. "The way she moved and the way she attacked; there was technique, skill,

calculated precision -it wasn't any martial art I've ever seen before, but it's

clear to me that she has been trained, and she's been trained well. If it's a

style I didn't recognize, that probably means classified CQC fighting styles

-Special Operations training."

            "So you're saying she's a soldier?"

Aisuours asked.

            "Black Ops, maybe, or a Spy,"

replied Vinge. "She also spoke with a Russian accent and even said some words

in the language. I think we were right about her being from Europe, but much

further east than," he looked at Pavan. "Transylvania."

            Pavan chuckled nervously.

            "So she's from Russia, and clearly

has some soldier training," said Tsume. "But why would they send a werewolf? Or

let her build a small army of them? I thought spies and Spec. Ops were supposed

to be discreet."

            "I don't think she's working for

them," replied Vinge. "As you said, she's not being discreet enough to be some

spy for another country. Maybe she's a rogue, but it's impossible for us to

know for sure. All we need to know is that she's coming this way, and by the

time Coldspine could send more troops -if they even have any left- Dawson will

already be lost and Assiminik will be heading right for Whitehorse."

            At that moment, Lighris returned to

the room, pocketing his phone. "Grandpa Joseph is trying to get his squadron

deployed to come up and help us, but he doesn't know how long that'll take, and

even with F-18's it's going to take him some time to get up here. We're on our

own for now."

            "I also spoke to the Michaels," said

Brent, who had just arrived seconds before Lighris had finished his call. "Duke

and Nora are going to help with the evacuation but even they say it'll be a

while before everyone can get far enough away."

            "Then we need a plan and quick,"

stated Tsume. "Some way to stall her..."

            Vinge slipped into thought, considering

their options. Assiminik had the advantage in numbers, the Os-Nadarra had no

support, and Dawson was completely without defense for at least a few hours.

They already knew that Assiminik was on her way; she had made her intentions

very clear when Vinge had been fighting her, but her pack was so many, and the

Os-Nadarra were but five -six including Aisuours, who had already agreed to

stay and help. But if Assiminik came with her entire pack to attack the town

even he would be overwhelmed.

            It reminded Vinge of one of his

favorite studies in history class; the famous Battle of Thermopylae almost two

and a half millenia ago, where but three-hundred brave warriors of Greece

-Spartans to be exact, stood against a seemingly endless army bent on conquering

their home, using a narrow pass and drawing the enemy in, forcing them into

such an enclosure their superior numbers accounted for nothing. But there was

no way to use such a strategy here; the land around Dawson City was rugged,

with a river on one side and a massive hill on the other. Nothing short of

terraforming would change that.

            Unless...

            Vinge suddenly rose to his feet, so

abruptly he caught everyone's attention, especially when they saw that look on

his face...

            "I have an idea. It's a longshot...

but it might work," he said, confidently.

~~~~~

            Atop the tallest building in Dawson,

the members of the Os-Nadarra stood, staring off in the direction of the

gathering lycans, too far even for their eyes to see yet, but they knew they

were out there nonetheless. Dawson City, populated by barely more than a

thousand people, was their target. It wasn't a big town, and it was in one of

the most remote areas of Canada; wilderness, as far as the eye could see.

Surrounded on all sides by uneven terrain -a river on one, frozen over by the

winter, and a small mountain to the other side, over which Assiminik lurked.

            Vinge stood at the ledge,

calculating the exact distance around the city as he prepared to carry out his

plan. The townsfolk were at the river, evacuating on foot to cross over where a

small caravan of vehicles would take them safely to the south.The others

shivered in the cold, but Vinge could feel the power in that icy chill flowing

into him like a rechargeable battery absorbing electricity, filling him with

energy. That power made him feel all the more confident that his plan would

work...

            But just as he took in a deep breath

and prepared himself for what he was about to do, he felt a tap on his

shoulder. "Vinge," Lighris' voice spoke.

            "Hm?" Vinge asked, looking over his

shoulder, and seeing Lighris peering in another direction, pointing with one

arm.

            He followed Lighris' finger, his

gaze falling upon the main road out of town, where a peculiar group of humans

-twenty of them, including one familiar cougar woman, could be seen walking

into the village, all of them wrapped in cloaks both for modesty and for

staving off the cold as they stepped into the town. Buniq was looking straight

at them, an expression of determination across her features.

            She motioned for her party to stop,

and then approached the Os-Nadarra, looking up at them from below. Vinge stood

at the edge of the building for a moment before opening his wings and hopping

over the side, beating the limbs several times to slow his drop to the ground

until he landed in front of her.

            "Buniq," he said with a respectful

nod. "What brings you here?"

            "We're here to help you," she said.

            Vinge tilted his head at that. "But

you said you didn't want to fight."

            "We don't," replied Buniq, looking

over her shoulder at her followers. "But these men and women followed me

voluntarily. We have all come to accept that if we don't stand up to Assiminik

now, we may never be rid of her; she has chased us for five years, never

quitting, never giving up. Eventually, we will run out of places to run." She

turned back to face Vinge. "Either with our death, or hers, the chase ends

today."

            "You're not afraid she'll find your

village?"

            "Everyone who ever saw her face is

here with me today," she replied. "We also travelled over the mountains when we

left the valley, and there's a fresh blanket of snow covering the land there

that will hide old scents. She'll never find the valley. Even if she did, I've

turned leadership over to someone in the village whom I trust; if we do not

return in the next day, they are to lead the others away from there."

            Vinge caught on to the meaning of

her words by the sad tone in her voice, and the way her gaze faltered. "You

don't believe you will be returning at all, do you?"

            "Live or die... they are not my

people," replied Buniq. "I've never been one of them... even if they accept me,

to this day I still feel like I don't belong with them."

            "So what will you do?"

            "Assuming Assiminik doesn't kill me?

I have not thought of it yet," replied Buniq. "Spirits willing that I do live, perhaps I'll decide then." She

shook her head. "But, enough talk; we are ready for battle, whatever the

outcome."

            Vinge nodded. "I have a plan that

may help us," he said.

            "What about the people here in the

town?" Buniq asked.

            "They're evacuating as we speak,"

replied Vinge. "The town police force is getting them out on the western side,

over the Yukon River, where they'll turn south. Assiminik should not see them

leaving until she already reaches the town. That is where my plan comes in."

            Vinge opened his wings, beating them

twice before he jumped and flew back up to the building, returning to his

original place on the roof. Buniq, using her natural agility, leapt up to the

nearest windowsill, pulling herself up to it, before jumping the rest of the

way up to the building, curious to see what it was Vinge would do. She climbed

over the side, walking over to stand by the others as they waited, seeing Vinge

shut his eyes and begin to focus.

            The blowing snowflakes in the wind

seemed to change course, moving against the very air currents themselves as

they flew over to Vinge, imbedding themselves into his feathers. By the second,

his feathers seemed to become brighter, until soon his feathers appeared to

actually be glowing. The others could sense the energy he was building up,

drawing on the power of his natural element, until it was so oppressive that

they felt as though their friend might explode.

            "Odin... give me the strength to

accomplish my mission," whispered Vinge, but Aisuours caught it, thanks to his

keen hearing.

            "Odin? The Norse God?" He asked.

            "What, we didn't mention Vinge was

Pagan?" Tsume asked.

            "I thought that was a dead

religion," returned Aisuours.

            "Not to people who've been alive

since those gods were still worshipped, like his..." Tsume caught her words,

and then whispered the next. "His father."

            Aisuours gathered by her hushed tone

that the subject of Vinge's father was touchy, and did not press for any

further information. He kept watching, waiting to see what would happen...

            Finally, Vinge raised his arms,

holding them out to the left and right, facing the north and south of Dawson

City, and from his hands erupted streams of snow and ice, billowing out as if

released from a compressed state and streaming over the buildings towards the

edges of town, arcing through the air before angling down to strike the ground,

and beginning to form into solid matter, forming into ice at a rapid rate. The

ice began to spread and increase in density, and began to take form

            The others watched in awe as they

witnessed Vinge's display of power, none of them ever having known he was

capable of such a feat. As they watched, the ice forming at the edges of the

town became as high as the buildings within moments, and spreading all around

the perimeter of the town itself, like a ring of fire following a fuel line -in

this case it was ice, but it was no less incredible to witness. The ice lined

itself along the entire side of the town facing the east, lining the foot of

the mountain and encasing the very trees themselves in ice, leaving no opening

to be found.

            The wall continued to rise until

they were more than thirty feet high -too high for any lycanthrope to jump

over, which would force them to climb Every minute he did this felt like an

hour to Vinge, but he held firm, driven on by his determination and the power

of the elements all around him. He summoned strength from the snowflakes, the

snow on the ground, the cool air itself, and the moisture of it all around him,

filling him with power, but his stamina was draining faster than he could

replenish his elemental energy...

            Vinge finally stopped, his arms

falling limp at his sides as he stood, struggling to breathe, and opened his

eyes. He looked so tired, one might think he had not slept in days, the hue of

his feathers had dimmed slightly, indicating that not only was he out of

breath, but he had forced himself beyond his limits and nearly drained himself

to the last reserves of his elemental essence...

            "Vinge, are you...?" Tsume began.

            She didn't even get to finish before

the Ice Phoenix became weak in the knees and started to fall. Pavan was at his

side in an instant, placing an arm over his chest and bracing himself as

Vinge's weight fell upon him. Vinge's eyes fell shut again, his breathing

slowed, and he stopped moving...

            "Is he alright?" Buniq asked.

            Aisuours stepped over, reaching down

with one massive paw and taking Vinge from Pavan, holding him gently in both

paws and raising him to chest level before he leaned down and placed his ear

against Vinge's chest, listening carefully. Within a moment, he pulled his ear

back, eyeing Vinge respectfully. "He's alive," he said. "He wore himself out

with that feat; he'll be out for hours."

            "Great, so our leader built us a

wall and now he's taking a nap?" Lighris asked, scornfully.

            "He gave us an advantage, Lighris,"

Brent retorted, glaring at the lightning hawk. "Look."

            The wall had completely blocked off

access from the direction which Assiminik was coming from; even if she climbed

over the mountain, she could not hope to climb over the wall itself. She would

have to go around it, but because of the terrain itself outside of the wall,

they would easily be able to see her maneuvers easily. Worst of all -for her,

is that if she went North, she'd have to climb more mountains to get around,

but if she went South, she'd be stuck at the river.

            "Son of a bitch," said Lighris.

            "Exactly," said Brent. "Assiminik

can't get to the people leaving the town without going around the wall, and by

the time she sees it, she'll have no choice but a frontal attack or to turn

around and retreat 'cuz she'll know we'll be watching her. Since this wall

covers the whole land around the town, she has nowhere to go unless she wants

to take a dip in the river."

            "But the river's frozen; it's no

threat to her," said Tsume.

            "It is if she thinks our Ice Phoenix

is still active," said Brent. "Vinge can shatter the ice on that river with the

snap of a finger; she won't risk it. Not even werewolf would be able to handle

water that cold."

            "So a bluff," said Lighris. "Well,

there are worse plans to depend on I guess."

            "The bluff won't last forever,

though. We'll still need a perimeter," said Buniq. "Assiminik will look for another way in, and if her

wolves circle all the way around and find out the river isn't a threat to them,

she'll flank us." She looked at Lighris. "You could hold them back."

            "Lady, I barely take orders from

Vinge or my brother; why should I

listen to you?"

            "Lighris, shut up and let the woman

talk," Aisuours growled, coldly. "She sounds like she knows what she's doing,

so let's give her a chance and hear her out."

            Lighris grunted. "Fine, but I don't

have to like it..."

            "Lighris and..." She loomed at

Pavan.

            "Pavan," replied the wind phoenix.

            "Pavan. You two will patrol the wall

from the air; attack the lycans as they climb the wall," Buniq explained.

"We'll use the high ground to our advantage but we have to keep the numbers

thin at all costs, and not let any of them go over the other side of the wall,

whatever the cost."

            "Any idea how we stand on a big wall

of ice?" Brent asked. "My armour's

boots don't have slip-resistant soles on it."

            "I'll take care of that part," said

Tsume. "Dirt sticks to ice pretty well and gives grip; s'why they cover the

snowy roads in gravel during the winter time. I'll also need some help digging

up some stones to use; I don't think katars and knives will be very helpful

against eight-foot wolves, so it's up to my terra powers." She gave Brent a wry

look. "Just the same, though, try not to run around too much."

            "In this cold? Can barely move at

all," Brent reminded.

            "Enough chatter," stated Aisuours,

raising his nose into the air and taking in a deep breath. "I smell werewolf...

they're coming."

            Buniq's brow furrowed deeply. "Then

we need to get into position," she stated firmly. "Prepare to defend the town!"

~~~~~

            The team spent the next hour

preparing for the defense of Dawson City, gathering whatever they could use for

protecting the town. Dirt was scattered across the top of the wall to give the

team grip, and stones were also placed to allow Tsume to fight at a distance

-on top of the wall, she would be off the ground and her powers would be

weakened. Not that she could do much with the frozen ground anyway, so she was

left with that, and to be an extra pair of hands for Brent if his gun jammed or

needed to be reloaded.

            Twenty-one werecats lined the wall,

evenly spread out, with Aisuours, Buniq, Brent and Tsume forming at the very

center. Above, Lighris and Pavan circled overhead, waiting for the ideal moment

for them to join in the imminent battle and assist.

            Prior to forming on the wall, the

group had taken Vinge to a motel -not the one belonging to Duke Michaels, but

to the Inn in the town itself, where they left him in a barricaded room where

he'd be able to rest and recover from his act of building the wall; the act

that, hopefully, would give them a chance against the odds they faced.

            The wind was slow, but cold, chilling

all of them to the bone as they stood waiting for the coming lycanthropic

threat. The townsfolk were nearly evacuated, and would need no more than a few

hours to get to a safe distance and escape; hopefully by then, the expected Air

Force support would arrive, and sterilize the remnants of the threat. They

needed only hold their ground until then.

            And then, it came; Lighris, flying

high above the town, was the first to spot them -a swarm of black coming over

the top of the mountain. Were it not for the eyes in the sky, the lycans could

very well have approached the town quietly, with the group never knowing they

were there until they were close, but the sharp eyes of the avianic elemental

spotted them first. With that, he turned about in flight and went into a light

dive, descending towards the wall and passing overhead where they could hear

him call out his warning.

            "They're coming!" He called before

he pulled up and ascended again.

            "Everyone, stay strong," Buniq called

out. "Have courage, and we shall prevail. " Her voice was filled with strength

no one else felt, and simply hearing her lifted their doubts slightly. She shed

her cloak from her body as she began to grow, transforming into her

Aiuranthropic self, becoming taller, broader, and more muscular by the second,

until she was back in her werecat form, dropping onto one forepaw and eliciting

a low growl. "The time for battle is upon us."

            The other werecats yowled in

agreement, and stood watching up the mountain for their enemies to appear...

            Up above, Lighris flew in a few

circles, watching the lycans from up high. They had stopped, for some reason,

and remained standing, unmoving on top of the mountain. Pavan flew up alongside

him, following his gaze before glancing over at Lighris. "Why're they just

idling up there?"

            "I don't know," replied Lighris.

"But if this queen-bitch that leads them is as smart as we've been led to

believe, she's probably assessing the situation, trying to find the best way to

get into town."

            "Well, that's what we're up here

for, right?" Pavan asked.

            "Right," returned Lighris, narrowing

his eyes in suspicion. "But I don't like giving some bitch smarter than me time

to plan."

            Pavan rolled his eyes, chuckling.

"Dude, you totally left yourself open to a..." He paused as he realized Lighris

was no longer flying next to him, and looked around for any sign of him, eyes

widening as he saw the lightning hawk flying towards the lycans. "What the bloody hell are you thinking?!" He

demanded.

            Lighris, without answering Pavan,

fell into a dive and flew over the mountain top, opening his wings and holding

them stiffly to glide over, and mentally commanded his electrical powers to

manifest into his wings causing them to crackle wildly with electricity as the

energy built into the limbs.

            He flew low, but not too low, else

he might bring himself close enough for the lycans to reach up and claw him.

Some saw him coming, growled and even attempted to leap at him, but he was

fast, flying over them with ease, before he unleashed the energy he had stored

in his wings; the whole area alit with white as bolts of electricity exploded

from his wings, and scattered over the werewolves with destructive power. Many

fell victim to his strafing attack, convulsing and twitching as they fell to

the ground, the electricity coursing through them.

            "Yeah!" Lighris bellowed before

softly banking to the right, circling back around before he flew back up a

little and faced the werewolves, flipping them the bird and cackling. "Yeah,

pussy-dogs, how do you like them apples, huh?!"

            They growled and barked at him,

baring their teeth at his insults, but he did not let up despite their threats.

"You're all taking orders from some bitch? Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't

you wolf types follow an alpha male usually?

I'm really confused, 'cuz your boss don't look like no male to me!"

            A stone came flying at his head,

hurled by one of the lycans; he ducked, his head, watching the stone fly past,

before he resumed his insults. "Oh a stone; like I haven't had rocks thrown at

me before. That all you got? You throw stones, I throw this!" He jabbed his arm

forward with fingers outstretched, sending another lightning bolt into the mix;

his plan was working, the lycans were getting angry. If he could stir them into

disorder, and Assiminik couldn't direct them, they would be much easier to deal

with.

            "Am I making you guys mad?" Lighris

asked, cockily, before he bellowed out in a forced voice of rage. "Well then

come and get me if you got the balls for it!"

            With that, he wheeled about, facing

the slanted side of the mountain, and dove, avoiding another rock being thrown

at him, and his retreat spurred the lycans into action; they broke away from

Assiminik despite her commands, and chased Lighris down the slow; easily fifty

of them, giving in to their primal rage and chasing the lightning hawk.

            Lighris flew towards the wall,

cupping his hands around his beak and yelling at the top of his lungs as he

flew over. "Incoming!"

            "Crazy

bastard!" Brent cursed.

            "He may have actually had an idea;

those lycans have broken from the main group!" Tsume declared. "Let's pick them

off before they regroup!"

            Brent nodded his head -as much as he

could with the neck of his armour not being articulated. He elevated his

machine gun arm, flashes of white-yellow erupting from the barrel of his gun,

followed by the rampant, loud shots of the gun itself filling the air. Tsume

waved her hand, elevating one of the stone in the pile by her leg and launched

it terrakinetically with a thrust of her arm towards the lycans, sending it

flying like a cannonball. Her aim was true; the stone thudded into the face of

a werewolf with such for that it actually knocked them from on their forepaws

to on their back.

            As the first wave approached the

wall, Lighris made his move, flying over the pack in a strafe and dropping

lightning bolts on them, cast from his hands; several of his blasts missed, but

those that landed killed the lycans instantly, or at the very least left them

stunned and easy pickings for Brent's gun. Those that avoided Lighris'

onslaught leapt at the wall, throwing themselves into the cold, rock-hard ice

and slammed their claws in with enough force to leave indents they could hook

themselves onto. With their claws holding them to the wall, they began to

climb.

            Now it was Pavan's turn; he the Wind

Phoenix swooped down out of the air and blew across the wall full speed, faster

than a peregrine falcon in dive he brought with him a heavy backdraft of

gale-force wind that peeled most of the lycans off of the wall and sent them

falling back to the ground, some even landing on their fellow pack mates. Those

who managed to hold onto the ice and continue climbing did not get far, for the

instant they poked their heads up over the edge, they were met with the paw of

a werecat striking them across the face with outstretched claws, or, for one

even more unfortunate wolf, the massive paw of Aisuours, which sent them

cartwheeling through the air for nearly a hundred feet.

            With the combined onslaught, the

numbers of the werewolves fell rapidly, until only a dozen were left. With

their numbers so easily reduced, the remaining lycans fled back up the mountain

to regroup with the remainder of the pack. So far, the group had suffered no

losses, and no injuries, with all of the damage on the side of the enemy.

Still, that had been at least fifty werewolves; Tsume and Brent had used many

of the stones and bullets already. Brent took the opportunity to check his

rounds, finding he had only seventy rounds, give or take, left out of a

magazine of more than two hundred.

            "We did them some harm, but they are

not finished yet," Buniq informed, her voice as strong as ever even with her

torso covered in blood; she had felled one of the lycans herself, and her

greater confidence at their chance for success carried in her words, inspiring

her fellow werecats and even filling Tsume, Brent and Aisuours with more

certainty. "Do not falter; we need only hold them a little longer!"

~~~~~

            Assiminik was impressed.

            The strangers defending Dawson had

dug themselves in well, and were putting up much more of a fight than she had

expected; they had even provoked some of her pack into breaking ranks and

chasing one of them directly into the kill zone -an act of which she made an

example out of one of the returning survivors, clawing him across the face and

nearly taking one of his eyes, warning the rest that if they ever disobeyed her

again, or compromised their strength like that, their fate would be far worse.

            She also had seen the werecats, who

had allied themselves with the town defenders, and were now part of the force

standing between her and her triumphant takeover of Dawson City -just the first

step in her conquest of the Canadian Territories. But she still had the issue

of now there being three people who knew her face; nobody could know who she

was, or where she came from. And the only way to guarantee their silence was to

kill them. Fortunately, all three of those offenders were all in one place.

            But now, she was faced with the task

of attempting to overcome the defense those offenders had set up. She stared

down the mountain, studying the wall carefully. It was not just the wall that

was an issue, or the defenders upon it, but the terrain. She could not flank

them from this height; they would see her pack moving towards the north end;

the wall was not higher than the mountain, and climbing onto the wall from that

end would be as simple as stepping off of a bus. But again, the terrain worked

against her; there were trees covering the mountain but not enough to hide her

pack in their shadows.

            She grinned toothily, though, as she

understood it would not require her entire

pack to overcome the defenders on the wall...

~~~~~

            "What're they waiting for?" Aisuours

asked, staring suspiciously up the mountain at the werewolves, who had remained

idle and quiet for what felt like a long time. "Do you think she figured out

we've just been stalling her?"

            "If

that's the case, she'll leave, right?" Brent inquired.

            "No," Buniq replied plainly. "She's

planning; probing the defense for a weakness."

            "How can you tell?" Tsume asked. "If

she sees the townsfolk have already left her entire purpose of raiding Dawson

is gone, right?"

            "But there's still the problem of

you," replied Buniq, glancing at Tsume. "And of me. Someone in your group has

seen her true face."

            Tsume arched an eyebrow. "How did

you know that?"

            "I would know her smell even if I

were deprived of it for thirty summers; I detected it on the ice and wind

phoenixes," replied Buniq. "Was it in lycan form she faced them, or as her real

self?"

            Aisuours looked up at the sky,

towards the two avians circling overhead. "Pavan said she fought him and Vinge

in her true form," he replied, before looking at Buniq again. "You're saying

she's not just here for the townsfolk then?"

            "They are her secondary objective

now," replied Buniq. "Assiminik does not want anyone to know who she truly is;

when she first arrived in my village she claimed she didn't remember who she

was -she pretended to have amnesia but I understand now she did not want us to

know her name. After transforming most of the village into her servants she

chased us for years, because we know her secret. Now two among you know what

she looks like, and she will not rest until they have been rendered silent."

            "In other words, she's going to keep

chasing Vinge and Pavan until she kills them," said Tsume. "As if Calhoun

wasn't giving us enough trouble?"

            "A story behind that, I suppose?"

Buniq asked.

            "Oh you have no idea, sister,"

replied Tsume.

            "Cut the chatter," Aisuours stepped

in. "They're moving again; I think the whole pack is coming this time."

(Play 'Werwolf' by Charon Exkadi)

            The others followed his gaze, and

could see the lycans were on the move again, spreading their line wide and

tightly packed as they began to move down the hill at a brisk pace, moving

sideways only to dodge trees as they descended. The line formed by them was

only two lycans deep, but it was seventy-five wide -wider than the row of

defenders atop the wall, and with their thinned formation, they were harder to

hit as Lighris would find as he swooped down for another attack, casting a bolt

of lightning that went astray, and found only one target out of the cluster.

            Soon, the lycans reached the wall,

leaping and digging their claws into the ice to begin climbing. Tsume dropped

what stones she had left upon them, and Brent stood at the ledge to rain

ammunition upon them. Pavan came in for his attack, rushing across the wall as

before to blow off some of the werewolves; those that fell had to start their

climb over again, but it delayed them. Those that didn't, however, sprang over

the ledge and engaged the werecats on the wall.

            The battle turned to fang and claw,

with the two therianthropic species ripping into one another. Howls and yowls

filled the air as the beastly creatures fought, with the others keeping up

their efforts; Lighris joined the defenders on the wall, as he could no longer

use lightning bolts to attack without striking the wall itself, and so switched

to his long sword, charging electricity into the blade as he fell upon a lycan

and stabbed them with a downward thrust, sending electricity coursing through

their body while simultaneously impaling vital organs. With that, he pulled his

blade free and joined the battle.

            Aisuours engaged several werewolves

at once as they came over the wall; the first he easily dispatched with a

backhanded blow that sent them flying, but the other blindsided him, leaping

onto his shoulder and ripping into flesh with their claws; Aisuours growled,

and after kicking away the next lycan charging him, he leapt up, turned over,

fell upon the wall with such force the ice barrier shook, crushing the lycan

under his greater mass, before he leapt back to his feet and re-engaged the

growing number of werewolves.

            Brent had already run out of ammo

against the werewolves, and Tsume had no time to help him reload, so instead,

he was letting the lycans wear out their claws against his military-grade steel

plating, which not even they could tear through, and occassionally bludgeoned

one of them with his gun or left arm. Tsume was moving and dodging a werewolf

chasing her, now forced to use her katars and knives again, and she managed to

get under its guard and stab it in the chin from below, impaling its brain in

the process. Before it could collapse on her, she shoved it over the wall, and

prepared for the next one.

            She was then blindsided by another,

however, and fell onto her side as it tackled her. She scrambled to get back up

but the lycan was on her before she could. However, before it could attack her,

an easily recognized whooping filled the air. "Chop-chop!" Pavan called as he

soared past, folding his wings and spinning himself with such force that he

took the werewolves' head clean off with his khanda, unintentionally leaving

Tsume covered in the blood of the lycan, but better that than her own.

            "Thanks Pavan!" Tsume called.

            "No problem!" Pavan called back

before something caught his eye. He unfurled his wings and caught a wind

current to stop himself from straying too far as he squinted towards the north

end of the wall. He widened his eyes again, this time with pupils retracting as

he used his telescopic vision to get a better look at the wall, before his eyes

widened further, this time with shock.

            "Ohshitohshit! Guys, they're

flanking us!" Pavan called.

            Tsume and Brent followed where Pavan

pointed, and quickly saw the lycans on the wall; they had failed to notice a

splinter group moving under the cover of the trees on the mountain and now

there were over a dozen coming at them from the north, about to climb onto the

wall and charge them.

            "Tsume,

I need a reload, hurry!" Brent called.

            Tsume rushed over, picking up the

spare box magazine for Brent's gun as she did, and was at his side. He walked

her through the reload process, starting with ejecting the empty magazine,

attaching the new one, and then chambering the first round; it was different

from an assault rifle as the gun Brent had was belt-fed, so rather than pulling

back on a catch, she had to open up the top of the gun and lay the first round

in place before shutting it again. After that, Brent was ready to go.

            The lycans coming from the north

were coming fast; Brent turned to face them and fired, unleashing a hall of

bullets from his gun; on the narrow top of the wall, they were easier targets,

the first three at the front dropping quickly, but the rest started to weave

side-to-side, making it harder to land a shot. Tsume stood at Brent's side,

while Pavan landed to take position at his other, and with a slapping motion of

his left hand, Pavan hit the next leading werewolves with a force of wind that

sent them over the side.

            However, when they were close

enough, one of them sprang, leaping clear over its brethren and launching

itself towards the trio. Tsume saw the flying werewolf too late for Brent to

react; it fell at them, and slapped his gun aside before landing and, with

another swipe, broke off the box mag and sent all of his spare ammo tumbling

over the wall.

            "Shit!"

Brent cursed; he tried using the round the remained chambered to shoot the

werewolf, only to have his arm seized, and then he was lifted off the ground

and thrown over the wall; the hyena screamed in such surprise he blew out the

speaker of his armour before crashing through the roof of a house.

Following the attack, the werewolf turned to face

Tsume and Pavan, and they saw the ruby-coloured eyes staring back, immediately

knowing whom it was they faced.

            "You bitch!" Tsume spat before she

lunged at the werewolf, stabbing at her with a katar, but the deceptively swift

lycan dodged Tsume's attack and swiped her with a claw, which she only narrowly

evaded.

            Pavan attacked next, lashing out

with his whip; it cracked the air next to  Assiminik, making her blink, and it was then

he lunged in to attack, but she saw through his trick and kicked him hard in

the ribs, the Wind Phoenixes' eyes going wide as the air was knocked out of his

lungs and he was sent over the wall as Brent had. Reacting fast, Tsume launched

herself off of the wall, grabbing Pavan and turning around while clutching his

body to hers, bracing herself.

            'This

is going to hurt!' She thought as she fell.

            She hit the ground, finding herself

sandwiched between frozen dirt and wind phoenix as she hit; such a fall

would've shattered the hollow bones of Pavan, but Tsume was a flightless bird,

and despite how hard she landed, her bones didn't even give -although she was

still stunned by the landing, she and Pavan were okay.

            Buniq was now aware of the flanking

attack, and the moment she saw Assiminik, a boiling rage welled up from within

her; she turned on the lycan wolfess, and charged. Assiminik, oblivious to

Buniq's oncoming attack, was leaping down from the wall to finish off Pavan and

Tsume, when right out of midair, Buniq tackled her, the both of them crashing

through the wall of the very same house where Assiminik had dropped Brent

before. They tumbled through the room they entered, rolling entangled in one

another before going through a window on the other side, which sent them

tumbling down to the ground.

            Assiminik quickly threw off Buniq

and scrambled back to her own feet, as did her opponent, and they faced each

other. Buniq's stare was filled with rage as it met the gaze of the werewolfess,

both of them snarling with challenge as they stared each other down.

            "I have finally caught up to you,"

Assiminik growled ferally.

            Buniq growled back. "Today is the

day you pay for everything you have done," she declared.

            Assiminik grinned toothily back at

the werecat. "You already know you cannot defeat me, Buniq," she retorted. "You

have the spirit of a hunter but I am made to kill."

            Buniq didn't reply, simply glaring

at Assiminik as she readied herself for the inevitable battle that would

unfold...

(Play 'Through the Heart of

a Nation', Ace Combat 6 soundtrack)

            A sound filled the air, like a

whooshing noise, but sharper and more distant. The ears of both Assiminik and

Buniq rose as the sound reached them, stopping their growling to better listen

as it drew closer. Buniq did not know the sound, but Assiminik easily

recognized the sound of jet engines. She wheeled away from Buniq and ran out

from behind the house to get a better look at the sky, and she saw them,

approaching from the west, fast and deadly.

            Military jets.

~~~~~

            Joseph MacAingeal,  gripped the controls of his jet fighter

firmly as he and his two wingmen closed in on their target, the trio of F-18

Super Hornets humming loudly as they began their attack run. "Tact-Com 6, this is Hornet-1, closing in on

target area. We have target hostiles in sight. Wind speed, twelve, elevation

two, two, six, one, descending to bombard range."

            "Copy that, Hornet-1; you are clear to engage."

            "Roger that, Tact-Com 6; missiles armed and moving in," Joseph replied. "Hornet-3, Hornet-4, you ready?"

            "Roger that, C.W.O; we're ready to blast some lycans."

            "Negative, Hornet-3; unknown targets in danger close,

repeat, unknown targets."

            "Chief, those friendlies?"

            "Roger that, Hornet-3," Joseph replied."Take aim at the mountain peak at one-two, target

elevation twelve-zero-zero; we'll bury the werewolves in an avalanche."

            "Target confirmed; vector locked in."

            "Target in range."

            "Fire at will."

            With whooshing sounds audible even to the pilots, the missiles on their

undersides ignited their thrusters and launched. "Two away," each pilot reported in as they fired their payloads,

sending six high-explosive missiles straight for the mountain...

~~~~~

            On the wall, the sound of missiles

being fired was heard by the group. Aisuours, at the top of his lungs, bellowed

out for everyone to get off the wall before he seized Lighris and leapt clear

away from the top, into the town, followed shortly by the werecats, who quickly

took cover amidst the nearest houses. The werewolves on the wall, believing the

missiles were intended for them, turned around to duck behind the wall for

cover, some already fleeing back up the mountain, only to find they had erred

rather severely.

            The missiles struck the mountain,

three times consecutively and with two missiles each, blowing away rubble and

debris upon impact. Some were near enough to be caught in the blast, others

rendered deaf by the ear-splitting sound of their impact, and were slow to

react at what came next. Rock, snow and fallen trees, swept up in a massive

landslide, were coming down the mountain towards them. The lycans, panicked,

ran back towards the wall and attempted to climb, but the avalanche reached

them first, burying them under thousands of pounds of debris and trapping them

between the wall and the avalanche; even the wall itself caved under the hit,

burying them further in ice.

            Some managed to barely escape the

fury of the attack, only to be ambushed by werecats the moment they stepped

among the houses, and the Super Hornets overhead pulled away from the pillar of

dust left by their bombardment, while Assiminik stood, only able to watch in

horror as her entire pack was obliterated.

~~~~~

            "Hit

confirmed; multiple KC's. Good call, Chief."

            "Roger that, Hornet-4; break formation and perform sweep.

See any stragglers making a break for it, send 'em to hell. Targets in town are

not to be engaged, repeat; do not fire upon the town. We've got friendlies down

there that can handle the rest. Two circles, then RTB."

            "Copy that; breaking away."

~~~~~

            Assiminik stood staring at the ice

wall in shock and awe, seeing the pile of rubble that now mark the gravesite of

her werewolves -her army... a force she had spent five years building,

destroyed in a single moment. So much work, so much time, so much planning...

and now it was all for nothing...

            "My pack," she growled, turning on

Buniq slowly, the fury apparent in her eyes. "My forces... my warriors!" She bared her teeth. "You did

this!"

            "I did not do it alone," returned

Buniq, unyielding in her stare. "Surrender now, Assiminik; the battle is over,

and you have lost."

(Play 'Monster' by Skillet)

            "I can rebuild my pack," retorted

Assiminik, her muscles tensing. "But I am going to make sure once and for all

that you and your new friends never

get in my way again!"

            Without another word, Assiminik

charged, in a blinding surge of speed; she rushed Buniq, and the two clashed,

ripping at each other with their claws and throwing one another all about as

they fought, leaving impressions and clawmarks in walls. Many times, they

struck each other with their massive paws. At first, Assiminik had the

advantage, but as Buniq fought, her superior strength got the edge, eventually

forcing the werewolf to throw her away from herself to gain some distance.

            They regained their footing, glaring

at each other again. Assiminik roared in rage, Buniq roared in hatred, and they

clashed again, this time Buniq throwing herself at Assiminik, tackling her with

all of the speed she could muster, sending the werewolf flying backward, but

not knocked down; a quick somersault and Assiminik was back up. They closed the

distance, once again both of them rearing up onto their hind legs, time seeming

to slow for both as one paw-strike after another ripped lacerations and tears

into their bodies.

            By now, the other werecats, as well

as the Os-Nadarra, had gathered and were watching the ensuing battle unfold,

staring in awe and silently cheering for Buniq as she fought Assiminik with all

of her strength, years of desire for vengeance finally being let out of the

Werecat's heart as they battled. They were evenly matched; despite Assiminik's

evident professional training, she had given in to her rage, and was no longer

fighting like a soldier, but as a beast.

Buniq had been a therianthrope all of her life, and

fighting like a beast was second nature to her. A trait in which Assiminik

apparently did not share, as her coordinated mind conflicted with the beastly

urges now overwhelming her; she was off balance, and Buniq seized that

weakness.

Soon, she broke Assiminik's guard, and attacked with

a flurry of paw strikes, clawing Assiminik twice across the chest, and then

delivered two mighty smacks to her head, one followed by a second -the latter much

harder than the first- which sent Assiminik flying off the ground, spinning

about in midair and landing face-down in the cold snow, letting out only one

more exhale of breath before she became silent...

Buniq stalked towards her fallen adversary, the others

cheering her victory but pausing as they saw her extend her claws to their full

length; they didn't dare try to stop her. If anyone had earned the right to

kill Assiminik for all that she had done, it was Buniq, for she had lost as

much as anyone else to the werewolf. Even now, images of her bleeding like a

pig were apparent in the mind of the werecat, and she could feel a primal

hunger rising in her, driving her on.

But as she raised her paw to land the killing blow,

she willfully stopped herself. Buniq had taken lives before, but always with a

different purpose -survival, typically, but Assiminik was down, defeated, an

all Buniq could think about was ending her life. It was not Buniq's thoughts

present, she realized; the beast within her was using her rage to take control.

Her arm shook as it was held over her head, her legs tensing and being pushed

deeper into the snow as she fought to keep hold of herself.

She couldn't do it. Killing Assiminik would not

bring her father back; she would still be alone. She would still be the strange

girl in a tribe of humans; life would never be as it was before. At the same

time, she knew Assiminik would just keep hurting people if she didn't kill her

-eventually she would indeed make a new pack, and then the hunt would be on all

over again; Buniq and her people would never be free...

She would kill

Assiminik... but it was not for vengeance. It was for peace...

But as her paw began to fall, something fell out of

the sky; a black, violet and golden blur, slamming into her with the force of a

boulder rolling down the slope of a mountain. Her eyes shot wide open as a

mighty fist struck her chest and sent her flying; she landed on Aisuours, both

of them sent falling to the ground upon impact, surprising everyone. They turned

to see who or what had attacked her, and the eyes of the three phoenixes went

wide in astonishment as they observed the dark avian standing between them and

the werewolf.

"Seems your hesitation allowed me to arrive in just

the nick of time," said the avian, grinning deviously as his amethyst eyes

stared maliciously at them. "Apologies for the surprise attack, but I'm afraid

I can't let you kill this woman."

"A black and purple phoenix that looks exactly like

Volcan," said Tsume. "You're... Calhoun, aren't you?"

"That would be

moi," the phoenix returned with a cocky smirk, bowing mockingly at them. "I

see Kumori gave away some information; he really isn't much of a ninja, is he?"

Lighris stepped forward, glaring at Calhoun with

dark intent of his own, his yellow eyes filled with murder as he stared down

the demented clone of his brother. "I ought to thank you," he said. "You saved

me the trouble of looking for you; now for all the misery you caused my kid

brother, I can finally put you six feet under."

"Normally I'd indulge in such a promising fight,"

replied Calhoun. "But I know when I can or cannot win a battle, and currently

I'm quite outnumbered, so I'll have to wait for next time."

"There's not going to be one," Pavan declared,

holding his sword. "If you have any of Volc's memories, you know for a fact you

can't get away; not while I'm here."

"Clearly you don't remember enough about Volcan to

know what I can do," replied Calhoun, his eyes glowing bright violet. "So I'll

have to remind you."

At that, black flames exploded outward from Calhoun,

enveloping him in a raging inferno of dark fire that the group recoiled from.

Lighris stood his ground, believing his hybrid blood would give him the

resistance to fire he normally had, but such was not the case here; as the

flames licked at him, he felt not just burning, but a horrid pain reminscent of

a knife being dug into his arm where the flame touched; he reared back,

grabbing his arm in pain as a sinister fog rose up from the point of injury.

"That's not fire!" Pavan exclaimed.

"It's fire," returned Lighris. "But it's mixed with

dark energy; this guy's using a fucking fused element!"

            "By himself?!" Tsume demanded.

"Who's giving him dark energy?"

            "No one; he's a hybrid elemental!"

Lighris returned.

            The flames cleared, and Calhoun had

transformed, becoming a giant, feral variation of his former self, just like

Volcan's own feral mode. He let out a screech before opening his wings widely,

unleashing an inferno from his body that sent the others scrambling for cover,

igniting the houses before he grasped Assiminik in his talon and took to the

air, taking off from the ground and flying above the town, heading south and

leaving the burning village behind, and the defenders to fight the fire

themselves...

            Later...

            Vinge awoke to find himself being watched by Tsume, Buniq -back in

anthro form, and Pavan, sitting up carefully and greeting them with a nod as he

leaned against the back of a bed he couldn't recall ever being in before. But

soon the memories flooded back to him; he remembered building a wall around

Dawson City, to stop the werewolves that were coming to the town to infect the

population.

            Vinge suddenly noticed the injuries

of his friends, particularly the bandages Buniq was wrapped in around her arms,

legs, and probably her torso but she was wearing her cloak again, and Vinge

couldn't see. Still the sign of battles were obvious, and he asked the obvious

question.

            "What happened?"

            "We managed to fight them off,"

replied Tsume. "Your wall was a big help; it bought us all the time we needed."

            "Coldspine sent out some more troops

to sweep the area; try and find any remnants of Assiminik's pack," Pavan added.

"We did it, frosty; we won."

            Vinge felt lighter at those words,

leaning back against the headboard of his bed as he let them sink in. "Thank

Odin," he muttered, but then posed another question. "And Assiminik?"

            "She..." Tsume began, but hesitated.

"Well... Calhoun showed up."

            "Calhoun? What for?" Vinge asked,

his eyes sharp.

            "To save Assiminik, apparently,"

replied Tsume. "He stopped Buniq from killing her, and then left with her. We

had to stay to fight a fire he caused and the military jets were long gone. We

can only assume she's with him, now."

            Vinge groaned and his finger and

thumb to his eyes, shaking his head as suddenly is relief was replaced by

dread. "Dammit..." He cursed.

            "On the plus side, though," Pavan

chimed in. "Buniq is coming back with us!"

            Vinge looked at Buniq, who blushed

at Pavan's words. "I... don't mean to sound like I'm inviting myself," she

assured.

            "You've already said goodbye to your

tribe?" Vinge asked.

            She nodded. "Yes," she said. "We

lost several of our werecats in the fighting; seven to be exact. Tsume helped

me bury them," she looked at the Earth Phoenix gratefully. "It's time that I

move on... there's nothing for me with them anymore."

            "Where do you hope to go?" Vinge

asked further.

            "When Adlartok found me, he said

that he also found evidence of the cabin where I was carrying... 'modern

conveniences' I believe you called them?" She looked at Pavan. "Which likely

means I am from the same society as the rest of you; perhaps one day, I can

learn who I really am, and find a new purpose." She looked between the three

phoenixes. "After seeing you all, and your willingness to protect the innocent,

I feel I would be better served travelling with you."

            Tsume smiled. "You could be more

than that," he said.

            "Pardon?"

            "While Vinge was out, Buniq, it was

you who took leadership of us while we defended the town," Tsume explained.

"And damn if you were impressive; I think I saw you take out four of those

werewolves yourself, not to mention you beat Assiminik. And she's still out

there, too; you know her better than us."

            Vinge chuckled light-heartedly. "I

think that's a nomination," he said. "Tsume wants you to join up with us."

            "I'm all for that!" Pavan agreed.

            Buniq looked between Pavan and

Tsume, and then saw Vinge extending his hand to her. "Then, as temporary leader

of the Os-Nàdarra Sentinels," he said. "It is my pleasure to invite you to our

team; I'm sure Volcan would agree. We can give you a home, companionship and

one day, perhaps even help you find what you want to know about yourself. It

just so happens we have some friends in high places that might be able to check

for you when you are ready to look."

            Once more, the werecat in cougar

form glanced at each of the phoenixes, clearly conflicted about making such a

decision; committing herself to a cause that she could never know where it

would lead her. But, she had seen their convictions and resourcefulness

first-hand, and knew that Vinge meant what he said that they could help her

find answers... as well as give her a purpose.

            With only a moment of thought, she

reached out and grasped Vinge's hand. "I would be honoured to join you," she

said.

            Vinge smiled back at her, nodding.

"Welcome to the Os-Nàdarra, Buniq."

~~~~~

            Assiminik's eyes sprang wide open as

she heard a door opening; she rose out of bed, expecting to find herself in a

military holding cell or in the back of a convoy truck with guns aimed at her,

but instead found herself in a room that looked like it was part of a barracks,

lying on an old bunk bed -one of four, the rest all sitting empty, covered in

silken sheets that, although were slightly dusty it appeared someone had at

least made an attempt to clean them.

            Under the blanket, though, she found

herself wrapped in bandages, with fresh gauze placed over the wounds inflicted

upon her by Buniq. Though they had already begun to heal, the blood stains on the

gauze told her that they had indeed been severe and had bled for some time

before she was patched up.

            Which still begged the question...

just who had done so?

            As if on cue, the door to her room

opened; she backed up instinctively, pulling out from under the blankets and

preparing to get to her feet as she watched the stranger enter. An avian with

feathers as dark as her hair, with an undertone of bright purple with the eyes

to match, adorning a golden cuirass with markings she promptly recognized to be

of Ancient Egyptian origin, older than most known countries and kingdoms of the

world, and with matching knee-height greaves and elbow-length bracers. He wore

gray pants, and appeared to be shirtless, but even though he was unarmed her

every instinct told her that the avian was dangerous -perhaps even more so than

herself.

            "I see you are awake," the phoenix

stated.

            Assiminik didn't reply.

            "I would expect you'd have

questions," the avian said insistently. "Don't worry; I am not going to harm

you. In truth, it was I who saved you."

            "Why?" Assiminik asked, plainly.

            "You opposed the Os-Nàdarra

Sentinels," the avian explained. "They are my enemies, and would stand in the

way of the goals I have set out for myself, as they apparently have done to

you."

            "So what; you're proposing an

alliance?" Assiminik asked, coldly.

            "Sort of," the avian replied,

maintaining his distance as he crossed his arms, never breaking eye contact

with her. "I am pretty damn sure I can't beat those do-gooders by myself, and I

know eventually I would have to face them again to carry out my plans. By

battling them, and nearly causing your own lycanthrope pandemic you've already

shown you have the very kind of resourcefulness and cunning that the team I am putting together will need."

            Assiminik snorted. "I need no help

from you, avian."

            "All evidence to the contrary,

considering the state I found you in."

            In a flash, Assiminik was out of the

bed, crossed the room and stood almost nose-to-beak with the avian. "Do not

presume to talk down to me bird; I

could kill you without effort."

            Calhoun's eyes glowed brightly,

bright enough they illuminated her face, and suddenly she became aware of the

heat emanating from him, which only escalated as dark and purple flames

appeared on his wings; she backed away, expecting an attack, but he remained

steadfast, and simply continued looking at her.

            "Not as easily as you think," he

said.

            "You are a phoenix too?"

            "Indeed, but of a different sort,"

replied the phoenix. "I am the incarnate of destruction itself, but I do not

seek to destroy this world. I sense in you a kindred spirit; a woman of

ambition. Why else would you build an army of werewolves?" He grinned as the

glow in his eyes faded, and the flames around him went out. "You have the

spirit of a conqueror, the strength of a beast and the mind of a master

general."

            He pointed at himself. "My power and

strength," he said, before pointing at her. "Your cunning and intellect," he

gestured to the side, "and that of an associate of mine who, presently is a

little... out of touch. The three of us, and more that we may find, can create

a cabal of conquerors, with which we can build our own nation..." He tightened

his hand into a fist. "And begin our work to take this world, extending our

reach even further beyond until whole galaxies burn at our feet." He arched an

eyebrow. "Tell me that does not appeal to you," he said, almost daringly.

            But she could not say it didn't...

because this avian was speaking like a man after her own heart. She could not hold

back the grin that stretched across her features; this phoenix was powerful,

she could feel it, he knew the common enemy they now shared and his goals

aligned with her own but he wanted even more than just a world... the very idea

appealed to her, and made her whole body come alive at the thought.

            "Perhaps we can work together," she said, nodding. "Well, given that I owe you

might life, I suppose I might repay that debt by at least seeing what you have

to offer. So then, what do I call you?"

            "You may call me Calhoun," replied

the avian. "And you have made a wise choice my lady; you are now on the path to

becoming an Overlord of a whole new era." He stepped closer to her. "But I

never got your name either; I would like to know the identity of who I will be

working with."

            "The Inuit called me Assiminik," she

replied. "But it appears that, at least with you, I need not hide behind an

alias, so if you so choose, you may know me as Asya Boleslav."

            Calhoun chuckled. "The name of

mortals; not befitting for one such as you," he said. "Assiminik will do then."

            They grasped hands, their grips firm

as their eyes met. "As of this day forward, let all the world tremble at our

coming," said Calhoun.

            "Tremble, and grovel at our

passing," Assiminik returned.

            Calhoun grinned. "Oh I think we are

going to get along just fine, my lady."

            She grinned back. "Indeed we may,

comrade."