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Jeremiah didn't like the idea of heading to his long abandoned home town. Bright Rock was not a place filled with happy memories. But he was the only Head who wasn't busy with other business. Plus leaving a found Sensitive for possession was not an option. So homeward bound he was. The trip was not far, so he traveled light. A pack of his travel clothes, camping gear and cart with his trusty donkey, Beatrice. There was also some emergency gear that he really didn't think he would need but his family had insisted it was better to be safe than sorry.

Instead of heading to the main entrance of the city, Jeremiah veered into the forest. Staying in a hotel in the city was too risky since he might be recognized. The less time he spent there the better. So he found a nice clearing in the forest. Deep enough to be hidden but not so deep that making it back to the city on foot would be a chore. After setting up camp, he made his way to the city. The Watcher would be waiting for him and he had arrived sooner than expected.

The walk to the Watchers' cabin was familiar. It was the same as when he last saw it. Sure, some of the trees had grown taller but the old decrepit cabin was still there. He hesitated, readying himself for what was going to be an awkward situation.

He knocked.

An old man came to the door.

“Holy shit." The old man said. “I was not expecting to see you here ever again."

“Nice to see you, Elder. It's been a while." Jeremiah said, trying to stay polite. “I was the only Head available. But I promise to be quick."

“You better be. If your father finds out, he's going to be pissed." The Watcher said. He walked further into his shack, motioning for Jeremiah to follow.

“That man is not my father. Not anymore," Jeremiah said, crouching down to fit in the door. “Besides, it will harm the treaty if he does anything stupid . But I will try to remain discreet."

“Ugh. Stupid werewolves and your weird culture. The man's your father whether you like it or not. Just because someone turns you into a wolf doesn't mean the identity of your parents changes."

The shack was filled with shelves of different herbs, flowers and jars with unknown contents. A table in the corner was piled high with apothecary tools and the floor was nothing more than dirt packed down from being walked on for years.

“I'm not here to argue. The sooner you give me the Sensitive's info, the sooner I will leave," Jeremiah pointed out. He was going to take a seat but realized the only chair there was next to the apothecary table and didn't look like it would support his weight. So he crouched down and waited.

“He's a little tall. Not as tall as you but taller than most. Light brown hair. Looks sad and mopey all the time. Just turned eighteen a couple of months ago. God, how I hate the youth."

“You hate everything." Jeremiah interjected.

“I hate the youth a lot more than I hate most others though."

The Watcher entered a door in the back corner. Jeremiah did not follow, opting to wait by the entrance. The sound of clutter being thrown about crashed through the shack before he finally returned with a pair of glasses and a stack of papers.

“He's a cadet at the guard academy," The Watcher said. His spectacles sat at the edge of his nose while looking over his notes. “Seems to be a loner from what I can tell. Likes to frequent the pub on the weekends. Also spends a lot of time out in the forest. Didn't follow him when he went into the woods. God knows what I would have seen. Do you know what happens when young men wander off to be alone? Masturbation! Filthy! Disgusting!"

“You don't say. Which pub does he frequent?"

“The shit one by the academy. Mad Eyes is the name." The Watcher waived his hand dismissively.

“Do you think he'll be there tonight?"

“Let's hope so, it's the only place he loiters about that allows for interaction without suspicion. Unless you want to catch him in the woods. That's what you gay guys do, right? Meet up in the woods and jack off?"

Jeremiah growled a warning at the Watcher.

“Watch it." Jeremiah said. “Just because you were my elder does not mean I will stand for lupophobia and homophobia."

The Watcher did not look impressed.

“I've given you what you wanted, werewolf. Unless you are here to buy one of my potions, I'm going to need you to leave. I recommend the fleas-be-gone potion for your kind."

Jeremiah snapped his teeth in the Watcher's direction but took no further action against the old man. He left the shack, not bothering to close the door behind him. The door slammed shut behind him.

---

It was late evening on the last night of the week. Jeremiah headed towards the old town district where the academy was stationed. The old town was the part of the city occupied by the semi well-off. They were not rich enough to live in the new district but not poor enough to live in the slums. Whereas the new district looked fancy and clean, the old town felt alive and well lived in. The streets during the day were filled with vendors, delivery men and newsies. At night, the city guard walked the streets keeping the less desirable elements sequestered to the slums. At that late in the afternoon, most were at home with family. But a few hit the taverns and pubs for a good drink. Or a bad drink. Sometimes the destination of getting drunk was more important than how you got there.

The Crazy Eyes wasn't anything fancy. It catered to the city guard, the cadets and the few who lived nearby. Jeremiah stepped inside and took a quick look around. Sitting in the back was a large group of cadets acting rowdy and rude. Everyone sitting around them appeared annoyed but no one seemed interested in standing up and doing something about it.

Jeremiah stepped to the side for a second and closed his eyes, trying to see if he could feel the pull of a nearby Sensitive. He felt the pull immediately. Whoever they were, they gave off a strong pull and would need to extract them quickly.. It wouldn't be long before a demon or ghost would find him and possess them if they weren't careful. Jeremiah scented the air to try and pinpoint the location. Sensitives had a certain scent. It turned him towards the bar. Sitting alone was another cadet nursing an ale. He was the only one sitting at the bar.

Jeremiah took the seat next to the loan cadet. The young man didn't seem to notice his presence. Whatever was going on in his head had him too preoccupied to pay attention to anybody. Not even when the barkeep took his drink order for a single glass of white wine.

“Mother fucking…shit mouthed…" the Young Man whispered to himself. It would have been too quiet for most to have heard. Jeremiah's werewolf ears heard it all clear as day. The cursing continued on and off for a couple of minutes. Jeremiah soon grew bored with it and decided to intervene.

“You look like you've got a thorn stuck in your paw, Lad. Care to share your woes?" Jeremiah said. The Sensitive looked confused at first. Then he turned his head and saw Jeremiah. His eyes went wide when he saw the huge man that had somehow snuck up on him. Jeremiah was used to people reacting in this way to his extreme height. But to the Sensitive's credit, they tried to cover their surprise quickly.

“Sorry, sir." He said to Jeremiah. “Don't mind me. Just a long day." He looked away from Jeremiah back to his drink.

“I'm surprised you're not over there with the other young bucks," Jeremiah asked, trying to draw the other man back into the conversation. He needed to create a rapport with the young man. It would make convincing the Sensitive of what he was and why it was so important to leave much easier. “Most cadets at the academy stay pretty tightly knitted together."

The young man stiffened up and looked back at the man with suspicion.

“How did you know I was a cadet?"

Jeremiah made a mental note. This one is not quick to trust others. Will have to be careful not to offend in some way. Will make extraction a bitch if I can't win his trust.

“You're still wearing your training uniform. As are they." Jeremiah said.

“Oh." he said back. He looked down at himself like he just realized he had still been wearing his uniform. “I'm fine. I'm happier alone."

Jeremiah heard the Sensitive heartbeat quicken for a second. He was lying. He definitely was not happier alone. Jeremiah could play off that if needed. He felt a little gross about having to think about manipulating someone else. But it was for the Sensitive's own good.

“Then why have you been mumbling obscenities into your mug?" Jeremiah said, trying to keep the accusatory comment light and playful. It worked, the man gave a half smile out of the corner of his mouth.

“Heard that, huh?" he said.

“I did," Jeremiah said back. “It does the body no good to let such thoughts fester. Tell me what's wrong."

Jeremiah pushed a little bit of the Wild into his last sentence. To make it a command. Something that the man would have trouble resisting. He tried to keep the pressure small so that it wouldn't be noticeable.

“It's nothing. I'm just a little frustrated at my Commander." the man said. “I got in a fight with another cadet. He's been saying things about me. I lost my temper and punched him. Got in trouble. Was forced to give an apology I didn't mean. But when I asked for an apology back, I was told I didn't deserve it."

The Sensitive took a sip of his ale before continuing.

“Sorry. I don't know why I said that. Must have had one too many tonight." He began to stand up. “I won't bother you anymore."

“You're not a bother," Jeremiah said, trying to keep the Sensitive from leaving. “I was the one who asked. Is the shit talker here tonight?"

“Yeah." The man said, sitting back down.

“I'm surprised the guard hasn't been called to deal with them yet," Jeremiah said. “Trash like that would have been better off staying in their daddy's balls."

The man started to cough as he choked on his drink. He seemed to be recovering quickly though. He began to laugh. Something about that laugh made his inner wolf take notice. That was not something Jeremiah was expecting.

“Don't say stuff like that when I'm drinking," the cadet said. “That's funny though. I'm going to have to remember that one."

“You're welcome to it," Jeremiah said. He smiled. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all. Now to plant a seed. Something to make it easier for him to leave. He took a sip of the wine he had ordered earlier but mostly ignored. He was the type to distrust authority. That would be his plan of attack. “What are you going to do about it?"

“About what? The rowdy ones back there?"

“No. You're not responsible for their actions. I meant about your Commander. He's letting a member of his team talk disparagingly about another member of the unit. Doesn't bode well for morale. Doesn't lead to a cohesive unit. Thought about asking to be transferred to another team?"

The Sensitive didn't respond right away. He began to look over his shoulder before leaning in closer. Jeremiah leaned in as well.

“Maybe he's right. Maybe I need to toughen up." The Sensetive's heartbeat stuttered again. Another lie. Another mental note. He either makes a habit of lying about what he believes in to get out of having a difficult conversation or he's a people pleaser who will throw himself under the bus. Jeremiah wasn't letting him off the hook that easily.

“You don't believe that. Try again." Jeremiah said.

“It's not a good idea to talk badly about a commanding officer. Besides, it would be the same with any other unit I got transferred to. I'm sorry. I shouldn't even be talking to you about this stuff."

The Sensitive downed his ale and started to stand up again. Jeremiah held up his hand and grabbed the man's shoulder to hold him in place. The moment he made contact with him, Jeremiah felt his wolf half jump with joy. Jeremiah's own heart rate began to spike. He had to concentrate to not let the shift start to happen. Jeremiah had to admit that there was a chance this Sensitive was compatible with the powers of the shifter. He tried not to think that far ahead though. First they needed to establish a connection and convince him to leave. To get him somewhere safe.

“It's because I asked. You don't have to apologize for speaking your truth to me when I was the one who requested the info." Jeremiah rubbed his shoulder to try and calm the young man down. He was then surprised to find that the Sensitive's heart rate suddenly jumped from the touch. He took a quick test sniff and scented arousal. The man was attracted to him. Suddenly his inner wolf's attention made a little more sense. He tried not to let himself get too distracted by this though, even though the little moan his little friend made under his breath drove both Jeremiah's human and wolf sides crazy.

“Tell me, why did you join the guard?" Jeremiah asked, trying to get himself back on track. Adding a bit of the Wild in to try and regain control but accidentally using way too much.

“It was my only option. Family kicked me out and I don't have the skills to apprentice anywhere." The man responded quickly.

Jeremiah cursed to himself, letting himself lose control of his power like that. He shouldn't be making such rookie mistakes. As he tried to get control of the situation, the smell of arousal increased and Jeremiah looked down to see that his new friend had a rather large bump in his trousers where his crotch was. The Sensitive must have noticed too as he suddenly leaned forward to hide it, trying to pretend he was just leaning on the bar. Jeremiah couldn't help but to give a low chuckle that came out more as a growl. His wolf was not going to let his human half take charge. It wanted in on the conversation and it was very hungry for attention. Jeremiah needed to cut this short and fast unless the bar wanted to see him suddenly grow a large amount of hair in a very short amount of time.

“I'm sure you felt that it was your only option. But I'm sure another opportunity will present itself. Maybe try to keep an open mind." Jeremiah said before giving the man's shoulder one final squeeze before forcing himself to let go. He pulled out some coins and dropped a pile on the table. It would be more than enough to pay for both his and the Sensitive's drinks. The rest would be a tip. He didn't have the concentration to bother counting.

“This should cover the boy's drink." Jeremiah said to the bartender to let him know the wine and ale were on him. “Name's Jerimiah by the way. What's yours?" He said to the Sensitive.

“Rodrig." he said.

“It was nice to meet you, Rodrig. Hopefully we will meet again soon." Jeremiah said and left to leave. He made sure to try not to run out of the establishment but he needed to be gone and quick. He could already feel his nails starting to extend into claws. He ducked his head to leave out the door. The moment he was out of sight of the bar, he ducked into an alley and gave out an exasperated growl.

There was no question about it. The Sensitive had a high compatibility with shifters. He had to dig his claws into his hands to keep from running back and slinging the young man over his shoulder. If the other Head's hear about that, he would be in deep shit. They would accuse him of hoarding the new Sensitive without giving him a chance to choose where he belonged. He pulled back on the wolf with promises of soon. Be patient. We can't claim him without his permission. Wouldn't be right. It calmed down somewhat. At least enough to pull back his shift so that he looked more human again. He brought the hood of his traveler's cloak up. He needed to make himself scarce. Leave the city and let his wolf out for a run. He made his way to the city

limits towards his campsite. Hopefully, Beatrice the donkey had stayed out of trouble.

---

Beatrice had long since been desensitized to humans suddenly changing to wolves and vice-versa. Plus everything in between. So when Jeremiah stripped naked after setting out some food for her and suddenly turned into a wolf that stood a donkey's head bigger than her, she did not seem impressed. In fact, she seemed downright bored. She went back to eating her food, turning her back to the predator. Beatrice was sassy like that.

When in wolf form, Jeremiah's human mind took a back seat. When fully shifted, he was letting the wolf spirit that shared his soul and body take over. He could still give suggestions, like stay away from the city. He could still understand sentences, even though he was no longer capable of saying anything back. It had been a while since the spirit had a chance to drive so it quickly took full advantage of the situation. Running. Smelling. Hunting. He caught a rabbit and quickly feasted. The warm blood and meat tasted good to his more animal body. It also meant Jeremiah could save his travel rations for another night.

Going wolf also gave him the opportunity to sniff out any rogue elements that might be lurking in the city. Or at least on its outskirts. His hometown had seen better days since he had been run out of town. The slums were flooded with the smell of angry spirits. If Rodrig ever went through there, he would most likely end up possessed by an angry spirit. He returned to his camp before the spirits noticed his presence. The undead were not a big fan of other supernaturals approaching their haunts.

When he made it back to camp, he stretched his wolf body before allowing himself to change back into human. His naked body now stood where the wolf had. The night air felt good against his skin since shifting often led to him feeling overheated. He slipped into his tent and got under the covers. He would need a fresh start tomorrow if he was going to keep tabs on his target.

—-

The next morning after giving Beatrice a short walk through the woods, Jeremiah headed back towards town. He wore his traveler's cloak with the hood up again and stayed in the back streets and alleys, making his way towards the guard academy. The last time he visited here, it was to inspect the school and make sure it was up to snuff. If he was being honest, he had no idea what he was looking for back then. Now as he approached the practice field, staying in the shadows, he could tell that it was mediocre at best.

Instructors were more likely to scream at their students than actually teach them . There was also definite favoritism. The equipment was in disrepair. Overall, the graduates would be ill prepared to do their job of protecting the city. But that wasn't why Jeremiah was here. That was no longer his responsibility. Rodrig was and it didn't take Jeremiah long to spot him.

Rodrig was standing off to the side. Jeremiah wasn't sure if he would call what Rodrig was doing “practicing". The form was stiff and his attention was less on the movements he was making and more on making sure no one was watching him. Based on what Jeremiah was seeing with the other cadets unlucky enough to earn the attention of the instructors, it was pretty easy to figure out why Rodrig would be looking over his shoulder.

A few moments later, one of the instructors screamed Rodrig's name.

The instructor's coat was decorated with multiple patches indicating he was of a higher rank. He was surrounded by students who all did their best to kiss his ass while the rest stayed far away. Rodrig was stiff as he marched over. When the screaming began, Jeremiah wasn't surprised. What did surprise Jeremiah was the subject of the instructor's interrogation.

The instructor asked Rodrig about the “mysterious man" that had approached him the night before. Jeremiah felt a bit of panic grab at his chest. Had he been recognized that quickly? Or did the Watcher tip someone off? God knew that Bright Rock barely abided by the treaties set by the King in regards to supernatural affairs. It wouldn't surprise him if the Watcher owed his loyalties more to the local lord than to The Organized Supernaturals.

Jeremiah took a deep breath. He could worry about that later. For now he needed to pay attention. He tuned himself in to conversation, blocking out the other conversation and distractions. Rodrig was playing dumb about the whole situation. But his heart rate was all over the place. Rodrig feared this man. Even after the red faced instructor finally dismissed him and Rodrig returned back to his small corner of the practice field, his body language and beating heart gave away his state of panic.

Luckily, the rest of the day's training went by uneventfully. Jeremiah stretched his back after having sat and watched all day. Jeremiah was also taking a moment to stretch. The young lad put his practice sword away. Jeremiah expected Rodrig to start heading to the barracks with the other students. Instead he started heading towards the forest and right to where Jeremiah happened to be watching.

Jeremiah quickly jumped into a nearby bush, holding his breath as Rodrig passed right by him. Rodrig on his part was completely unaware. Jeremiah was beginning to get the impression that Rodrig spent a lot of time in his own head. That worked in Jeremiah's favor though. Would make it easier to follow and spy on him. Or maybe even approach him. Pretend that it was completely by coincidence and continue their conversation from the night before.

Unless the Watcher was right and Rodrig really was going out into the woods to masturbate. If his sons were here, they would probably make a joke about stumbling upon a free show. He shook his head to clear his mind and decided that it would probably be best to keep to recon for now. And the best way to do that would be from his hybrid form.

Jeremiah stripped his clothes off, leaving them in the bush before pulling on the spirited wolf. Hybrid form required him to merge both himself and the wolf spirit living inside of himself into one being. It was something that took years of practice. Jeremiah had only just recently mastered it. Soon he grew black fur across his body like he would a normal shift. Instead of falling to all fours though, he still stood on two. His back grew a tail and his hands had large claws on the tip of each finger. His face elongated into a snout like a wolf and his height grew by another foot. He stood tall. What was once two spirits in one body was now one. Everything about him enhanced far beyond what it was before. Strength, dexterity, hearing, sound, smell all pushed beyond what they were before. He slowly began to stalk his target, remaining as far as possible. Rodrig didn't have to even be in sight for Jeremiah to follow. The scent trail Rodrig left behind was enough to keep him on track.

Rodrig eventually settled on a spot by a large tree, sitting down with his back against it. He breathed slowly and his heart rate dropped to a relaxing slow thump. Jeremiah slowly stalked his way to the opposite side of the tree. Each step carefully planned to not make a sound. Jeremiah climbed up in the foliage of the tree so that he was able to see down to the ground. Once he was right above the Sensitive, he watched. As he watched, he listened to Rodrig's heartbeat. It was relaxing. Jeremiah found himself wanting to do nothing more than curl up and nap as the sound of the heartbeat lulled him to sleep. Now that the human and wolf side of Jeremiah were one, there was no conversation about what they wanted. Jeremiah could feel how similar Rodrig's spirit was to his and to his three sons. He was compatible and Jeremiah knew as soon as it was appropriate, he would petition for Rodrig to join the pack. But that was a far way off. For now, he could simply relax and listen to the calm breath of the man below.

Then a chill ran down Jeremiah's spine. The smell of a specter carried across the breeze. It would be invisible to anyone who didn't have some sort of spiritual awareness, so Rodrig would be blissfully unaware of the creature lurking nearby. But the specter definitely took notice of Rodrig.

It appeared as an old man, an ax thrusted through his gut. The specter must have been a murder victim. It was slightly translucent like most undead without a physical body were. Its eyes fell on Rodrig and stumbled towards the oblivious Sensitive.. Jeremiah gave a warning growl to try and get the spector's attention. One he tried to keep as quiet as possible. The specter took notice and stopped in its tracks. Unfortunately, so did Rodrig.

Jeremiah cursed at the gods for putting him in such an awkward position. The specter began to shamble forward again. Jeremiah gave another warning growl. Rodrig was on his feet looking for the source of the noise. The once pleasant and slow beat of the man's heart had now picked up to a rapid pulse. Jeremiah could smell the adrenaline coming off him.

The specter didn't stop this time. Jeremiah silently apologized to Rodrig who was about to get the biggest scare of his life and let out a loud growl right above Rodrig's head. Rodrig looked up. For a split second, Jeremiah could see Rodrig's brain trying to process what it was seeing.

There was confusion.

There was understanding.

There was fear.

Rodrig ran. The specter gave chase. Jeremiah took off after Rodrig.

Jeremiah chased after Rodrig, moving just fast enough to keep up and heard him away from the spector and back towards the academy. Rodrig was surprisingly fast for a human. Which was good because they soon lost the specter. Jeremiah stopped chasing right before they passed into sight of the academy. Rodrig was just about to make it over the hill before his foot got caught on an overgrown root. The young man fell over the horizon of the hill.

Jeremiah cringed as he heard what sounded like a painful descent down the hill. He didn't stay to check on him though. The screaming about a wild beast chasing him through the woods was enough of an indication to prove that Rodrig had survived the fall. Jeremiah grabbed his clothes and bolted back to his camp. He prayed the other Heads didn't hear about this.

—-

Jeremiah approached the hut of the Watcher. His plan was to ask if the old bastard had told anyone of his arrival. Jeremiah was ready for an interrogation. Not a rescue. But a rescue he had. For when he arrived, the shack was half destroyed.

Jeremiah scented the air. He could smell the traces of a small group, most likely city guard scent to harass the Watcher. But why? Jeremiah slowly approached, making sure no one else was there. Then he heard a weak cry.

“Help. Please." The Watcher cried from inside the shack. Jeremiah stepped inside, the place was trashed and the roof had caved in the middle. Sitting next to the debris was the Watcher, his leg caught under a support beam. Jeremiah ran over and easily lifted the beam out of the way before picking up the Watcher and carrying him outside. He set the Watcher down and looked him over. He had a gash on top of his bald head that was leaking blood down his face. It would need stitches. His leg also appeared to be fractured. But he would live.

“What happened?" Jeremiah asked.

“Someone at the bar recognized you. Was keeping a watch on the Sensitive." The Watcher said.

“Why would he have known?"

“I told them. Before you arrived."

Jeremiah's fury rose. He wanted to strangle the old man where he stood. He almost did. But then he wouldn't get the info he needed. Jeremiah needed to remain calm. He took a deep breath.

“Why?" Jeremiah asked. “The treaty states-“

“You think they care about the treaty?" The Watcher interrupted. “Your father only abides by it because of the king's wishes. But if he had his way, all Sensitives and Adapts would be put to the stake."

“But that doesn't explain why you told him?" Jeremiah's hands were shaking as he held the old man by his shoulders.

“Because of this," the Watcher said, waving his hands at his destroyed shack. “This is what happens if I don't play nice with the thugs he sends."

Jeremiah took a moment to center himself. He knew the lord was a spiteful man who thought anything supernatural should be shot on sight. But to do this. To blatantly break the terms of the treaty. The other Heads would want to know.

“You can't stay here." Jeremiah finally said. “Is there somewhere safe I can take you?"

“Yes, I have a friend in the old town. She can patch me up. Then I'm leaving."

“You're abandoning your post?" Jeremiah roared.

“Yes! Yes damn it I am!" The Watcher screamed back. “Because if I stay, they will kill me!"

Jeremiah sat there holding the old man as he began to sob.

“It's not safe here. For any of us." The Watcher said between sobs. Pleading with Jeremiah to understand. “Get the boy. Fuck the process. He's not safe here. And neither are you."

They sat there for a moment in silence as Jeremiah processed everything he heard.

“Where's your friend?" Jeremiah eventually asked. He would consider the Watcher's advice later. For now, he needed to get the old man to safety.

——

Jeremiah left the Watcher with his friend. Before he could leave, the Watcher said one more thing.

“They know what he is. And they are mad that you were the one sent to pick him up. They want you out of the city. Get the boy tonight. We can't wait for him to come with us willingly. Do your duty."

“Do not speak to me of duty when you are abandoning yours." Jeremiah spat back before stomping away. He hated that he agreed with the man. Rodrig was in danger. There was no time to wait. If he had to, he would knock him out with a sleeping potion and kidnap him.

He made his way back to camp first. It was growing dark so he had to shift his eyes to see better. The camp was undisturbed. Beatrice the donkey greeted him with a big smile. He patted her head before rummaging through his things. He was looking for his stealth gear. He had just found the sleeping potion when a voice called out for him from deep in the woods.

“Come on out Jerimiah. I know you're back in town." A voice called for him. It was far away but his enhanced hearing picked it up along with the scent of Rodrig, the instructor he had seen earlier that day and a third smell. One that he couldn't place but it felt familiar.

“Decided to hunt yourself another young buck? Well, guess what? You can have this one on me. He's a fucking loser with no family. Won't be missed. All you gotta do to have him is leave town. For good this time." The voice of the instructor continued.

Jeremiah dropped everything he was doing and ran, shifting the muscles in his legs so that he moved faster than any human had any right to. As he ran, another voice echoed through the forest.

“And if you don't come and claim your prize, I'll gut him." A new voice said. It sounded so familiar. But any thought of trying to identify the voice was cut off when Rodrig suddenly let out a muffled scream through the forest.

“Hear that? The young buck is calling for you." the unknown voice said. The instructor and the unknown voice continued to talk amongst themselves but it was unintelligible over the rising heartbeat of Rodrig which was in full blown panic. Jeremiah approached the clearing where the trio currently resided and came to a skidding halt.

Jeremiah saw three figures. The first he saw was Rodrig lying on the ground, hands bound behind him with shackles and a piece of fabric that bound his mouth. He was breathing heavily and smelled of blood, but beyond being scared out of his mind seemed to be okay. Standing above him holding a knife was the instructor. The knife's tip was red with blood. Lastly was a man. A man that Jeremiah hadn't seen in close to a decade. In fact, the last time Jeremiah saw this man, he was still a boy. Barely ten. His younger brother, Eldin.

“There you are." Eldin said. “Was wondering when you would show up, Monster."

“Hello again, Little Brother." Jeremiah said, trying not to let the hurt of seeing his younger brother again cross his face. “It's been too long."

“We are not family, you freak!" Elden said. “I don't know why you thought it was okay to hunt here but I will not stand for it. Take your prize and leave here."

Jeremiah wasn't sure what Elden was talking about. He wasn't here hunting humans like a diseased lycanthrope. He was here as part of the treaty. To protect the Kingdom by finding those who were at risk from the supernatural and help them.

He focused his attention on Rodrig. The instructor had grabbed the cadet by his shackles and pulled him from the ground to a kneeling position. His cheek was bleeding from the fresh cut on his face and there appeared to be another on his back from the looks of the blood stain on his shirt. Jeremiah met his eyes and Rodrig. His eyes looked devoid of hope. This was a man who had been broken and was ready to give up.

“What did you do to him?" Jeremiah said. “Why would you do this to him?"

“Because he's a useless freak," the instructor said. “ Had to rough him up a bit for wasting my time. Besides, can't your kind smell the blood of your prey?" He then pushed Rodrig forward and kicked him in the back, launching him forward. Jeremiah launched forward and grabbed Rodrig before he could hit the ground. The bound man didn't mov once caught. He just laid against his chest. He was in some form of shock.

“I've got you kid." Jeremiah whispered down to Rodrig before turning back to the two men still standing on the other side of the clearing. “Care to provide the key to his bonds?"

“You're a big strong beast. I'm sure you can tear them off." the instructor said. He began to laugh and it reminded Jeremiah of one of those over the top villains in the operas his birth father used to take him to see all the time. The instructor picked up his lantern and began to walk away. Jeremiah looked over and met his younger brother's eyes. They were filled with disgust. Eldin followed after the instructor, taking the other lantern with him and leaving both Rodrig and Jeremiah in darkness.

Jeremiah shifted his eyes again so he could see in the dark. Rodrig would be completely blind in such low light so there was no chance of him noticing the sudden change in his eyes. He helped Rodrig to a sitting position and let the young man lean against him for support as he untied the gag.

“Are you all right?" Jeremiah asked. Rodrig wasn't looking at him but staring blankly into the darkness. His face was scrunched up as he took a few deep breaths, small pools of tears building up on the side of his face. But Rodrig held his emotions back and his face went blank.

“I'm fine." Rodrig said. It sounded rehearsed. Something he always said whenever he was actually anything but fine.

“We'll get you to my camp where I can check your injuries." Jeremiah said. He helped to pick him up before noticing that there was a bag over by where the instructor and Eldin were standing. “Is that pack they dropped yours?"

“I don't know." Rodrig said. “I can't see. Probably. They did have me pack my bag before…" He trailed off and shivered.

“Stay here." Jeremiah told Rodrig. he then went over and picked up the bag. It was light. The trip back to the pack land wasn't long but with such a small bag, they might need to buy some clothes if he ran out. They would be too busy traveling to wash their clothes. But they would figure it out as they went. He went over and stood behind Rodrig.

“Hold still." Jeremiah said before he shifted the muscles in his arms. He carefully pulled on the chain, trying not to put any force on Rodrig's arms as he snapped the flimsy metal. Rodrig brought his arms in front of himself, flexing and stretching them.

“How did you break them?" Rodrig asked.

“Now is not the best time to explain," Jeremiah said, wrapping his arm around Rodrig's. “I have good night vision so I will lead you back to my camp. Can you walk?"

“I got my ankle stomped on." Rodrig said.

Jeremiah had to stop himself from interrogating Rodrig on who was responsible. There would be plenty of time for that later. He prayed it wasn't Eldin.

“I might be able to carry you," Jeremiah said before scooping the young man up. He didn't weigh that much, even without shifting the muscles in his arms. But then Rodrig started squirming in panic.

“Down! Put me down!" Rodrig cried.

“Shh you." Jeremiah said, adding a bit of the Wild into his voice. “Unless you want to walk to my camp on a hurt ankle." Rodrig stopped squirming.

“I could make it." Rodrig pouted. His heartbeat skipped.

“You're a terrible liar," Jeremiah said. He had to give Rodrig points for trying to act tough but he needed to learn when to ask for help. Another thing that could be worked on later. “Now stand still. It's easier to move if you stay still."

Jeremiah held tight and rushed forward, only going at about half speed. Rodrig pressed against him for stability. The closeness made Jeremiah feel hot. His wolf perked up and started dancing around inside his chest. “

Yes, yes, yes!" it said in his head. “Ours. Finally ours."

Jeremiah had to push back. No. Not ours. Not yet.

The spirit wolf backed down, but still remained right at the edge of his mind.

When they finally reached his camp, he set Rodrig down on a small wooden folding stool.

“Stay here. I'm going to light a fire." Jeremiah told Rodrig before grabbing his flint and steel and striking them together. A few seconds later he had a fire going. He then went to his pack and grabbed some Jerky. He pushed it into Rodrig's hands.

“Eat this and wait here. I've got some tools that can pick the locks on those shackles." Jeremiah told him. He then went and started digging through his bag for his tools. Of course, since he wasn't expecting to have to use them, they were all the way at the bottom of his bag. He would have to thank Alfonse later for forcing him to pack all these extra tools.

“Just in case, Father." Alfonse's voice rang inside his head.

When Jeremiah finally found his tools, he headed over to crouch next to Rodrig. He noticed that Rodrig had already finished the jerky he had given him.

“You can have another piece after I'm done with these," Jeremiah said before pulling one of his wrists forward. “Can you tell me what happened?"

“I don't know. The Captain suddenly told me to stay in my quarters and when he came to get me, that guy was with him. I thought they were going to kick me out of the academy but then they brought me to the woods. Then that...fancy asshole pulled a sword on me. Told me if I didn't move, he would gut me. Then they tied me up and gagged me."

Rodrig had to stop himself from laughing when he heard Eldin being referred to as a “fancy asshole."

“Did they say why?" Jeremiah asked. One of the shackles came undone. He grabbed Rodrig's other wrist and got to work on the second one.

“No. They didn't tell me anything. But I get the feeling it has something to do with you."

There it was. The connection Jeremiah hoped Rodrig wouldn't make. But it would take an absolute idiot not to notice he was associated with this in some way. Especially after calling Eldin his little brother in front of Rodrig. It was stupid. But seeing someone he thought he would never see again had rattled him.

““Yeah." Jeremiah said. “I do. But the explanations are going to have to wait until morning. We need to be out of here at first light."

“Leave? I can't leave." Rodrig said as he tried to pull his hand back. Jeremiah held firm.

“You can't stay either." Jeremiah said. “You're not safe here. That man, the fancy asshole as you called him, won't let you live if you stay."

Jeremiah hoped that wasn't true. He hoped his younger brother wasn't capable of killing and that it was their father's terrible influence that was causing the once sweet and tender boy to act in such a way. Rodrig wasn't the only one Jeremiah wanted to take with him. Even though he knew he couldn't.

As he finally got the second shackle off, Rodrig pulled his hands close, rubbing his wrists. The skin where the shackles had lay seemed irritated.

“Why? I didn't do anything to him." Rodrig asked.

“It's not about what you did. It's about what you are."

Jeremiah was getting ready to break the news. That he had a hole in his soul that supernatural elements could next in. That he was different. Before he could say his piece, Rodrig spoke.

“I didn't ask to be like this." Rodrig said. “I didn't ask to be a faggot."

Jeremiah's heart broke for Rodrig that moment.

“That's not what I...oh kid." Jeremiah said, pulling Rodrig into his arms. He remembered the dark times from his own past. The holding back who he was for appearances. Refusing to accept who he was. It was what made leaving so much easier. “That's not something you can control. And it's nothing to be ashamed of."

“Yes, it is." Rodrig sobbed. Jeremiah could feel Rodrig's tears soak his shirt. “The scripture says a man must procreate. That wasting your seed in another man is akin to murder."

“Kid, sorry to break this to you but the scripture was written by a bunch of assholes with sixteen slave wives apiece." Jeremiah said, holding the young man tight. Even though Rodrig was having a crisis, just holding the man made something inside of Jeremiah feel right. Like the first time he had held the three men who would eventually become his sons. He didn't want to give this one over to another group. He wanted to keep this one. Which was bad. “They weren't exactly the height of moral standings." That last line was a dig on not just the holier than thou prophets but himself as well.

“But I..." Rodrig tried to argue.

“No buts." Jeremiah said, holding him at arm's length. He had switched into what Lucin, his second son, called his “dad lecture voice."

“You being gay isn't a bad thing. It doesn't mean you deserve to be treated less than. And don't say faggot. If I hear that word come out of your mouth again, especially in reference to yourself, I'll tan your hide. Understood?"

Rodrig looked bewildered but eventually gave a little nod. Jeremiah handed him another piece of jerky.

“Good. Eat this while I prepare you a bedroll." Jeremiah said before leaving the stunned Rodrig to prepare the spare bedroll he always brought when he was expecting to pick up a Sensitive. Technically he brought 2 extra in case the Sensitive had a spouse or child they couldn't leave behind. He finished with the bedroll before leaving Rodrig's bag in the corner of the tent.

“Bed's ready. Come on, let's get you laid down so I can take a look at your wounds." Jeremiah said before going over and helping Rodrig to stand and lead him over to the tent. Rodrig limped the short distance. He wouldn't be able to walk on it for a while. Thank god he had the cart. Beatrice would give some attitude for the extra weight though.

“Before you lay down, I need you to take off your shirt." Jeremiah said as he helped sit Rodrig on the bedroll.

“Why?" Rodrig asked, suddenly panicking.

“You're bleeding on your back. The wound needs to be cleaned. I also need to look at that cut on your cheek and your ankle."

Rodrig did as he was told. Jeremiah felt a bit ashamed to say that a part of him enjoyed watching the young man take off his shirt. He had a well toned chest but he seemed a bit skinny for someone his height. Something that was easily remedied. Rodrig laid on his stomach so his back was in place.

“Good boy. Now wait here while I get my first aid equipment." Jeremiah said. He left to grab his stash but by the time he came back, Rodrig was fast asleep.

“That makes sense." Jeremiah said. He got to work cleaning and disinfecting the wound on Rodrig's back. It wasn't deep. No stitches needed. But it would need to be bandaged in some ways. Jeremiah didn't have one long enough so cloth wraps would have to do. Surprisingly, Rodrig slept through all of it. The face was a bit more deep, that one would need stitches. Again though, Rodrig slept through the process. This one he did have a bandage that would fit. Lastly was the ankle. He rolled it around. The muscles popped but nothing appeared broken. If he stayed off it, Rodrig should be walking within a week. He wrapped it so that it would be hard for him to move it but not so hard to cut off circulation. When Jeremiah was done, he grabbed a blanket and laid it down on top of the man.

Jeremiah then got himself ready for bed. He fed Beatrice, who nuzzled his face and nipped at his hair. He then ate some travel rations and stripped off his shirt and boots. He decided to keep his pants on tonight. Lastly he pulled out a small alarm clock and set it to go off right before first light. He took one last look over at Rodrig who was lightly snoring. Jeremiah joined him in slumber shortly after.