Leyanne and Meadow, they, and some of the stronger of the pack that we have so little of, their aim is the mountain and getting inside no matter what we encounter out here. They have their order to keep going, leave us behind to battle. To face off vampires while Leyanne finds the witches and takes care of the spell wherever it may be coming from. We tried for an even split, but we know the wolves will be the harder battle and ended up with a seventy thirty uneven decision. Wolves are the problem, not what waits beyond. Our wolves. Our warriors… our sub pack, our family, our mates.
My heart is racing, I can taste the fear and tension all around me as they all stand pensively. My heart in my throat, my body cold and frozen in growing anticipation and fear. My head so bound up in the what if’s. I have had to stop myself thinking at all. My emotions clogged by the many so I can’t escape it swirling around me like an eternal drain on my energy.
The masses are dressed in old loose clothing that will be shredded when they turn, save one wolf… me. I must stay human, so I wore something Sierra made me take from the grimoire library. It’s armor of sorts. Silver, gleaming and more like a chain mail skirt over leather pants, but my abdomen is sheathed in a metal fitted bodice. It’s held together at the back by chain and lace and a crisscross of binding. It belonged to a warrior witch ancestor and luckily, she wasn’t that much bigger than me.
It doesn’t offer much protection against wolf claws but given I don’t plan on letting any claws get that close, it made Sierra feel better giving me something to protect my body. In case I’m thrown, I fall, or I’m hit in some way, when we all know that my belly is the place I need to shield the most. My most precious gifts are contained therein. I know Sierra intends to stay close, as does Carmen, but in the heat of battle that might not pan out. It will be chaos, and we will need to fight hard and long to draw out the distraction for Leyanne. I’m prepared to be separated from them because I know it will be inevitable.
The suns coming, be ready, turn.
Meadow’s mind link to the entire pack sees a tremor erupt as bodies shred clothing and skin turns to fur all around me. My anxiety growing as human faces disappear and my pack arm themselves for what’s about to come. Growling, snarling, pushing themselves to be ready as the glow of amber eyes lights the duskiness in front of their faces. Each lifts the tiny vial given to them by the witch as they filed out here and smashes it against their strong chests, enacting the protection potion. Carmen and Sierra hold off beside me, waiting….
“This is it…. No turning back now.” Carmen whispers my way, one last focused lock of her eyes on mine, one tight squeeze of my hand as she nods, lowers her eyes, and shows her respect. I feel her intent, her promise to shield me, before letting go and turning too, so I’m faced with softer orange eyes on a fawn wolf, and she gracefully swoops to all fours to shield me from one side, lifting her own vial and biting it in her teeth so it splatters over her face and into her mouth. Carmen made a vow to stick to me like glue, and somewhere deep down, I know it’s what she will do as long as she can.
“Stay between us at all times…. Never stray. Use us as your protection.” Sierra squeezes my other hand in hers, and dissolves before me into sleek black and grey fur and smashes her bottle in one clawed paw. Much like Colton in a way, only smaller, with light patches, and yet her eyes are blue. As femmes, they are beautiful, both of them, and that familiar show of almost feline, sexy, brown wolf, nudging Leyanne to climb on her back informs me Meds has changed too. I’m now the only other human apart from the witch and she casts me a look across the huge heads of our furry friends. Her eyes meeting mine as she nods in a regal way, somehow wishing me luck for the fight ahead. I pull out my clear liquid incased in glass and pop the cork before pouring it down the front of my armor. Crossing fingers this works and we are shielded from the fog.
Leyanne gracefully hops onto the large back of Meadow, using her magic to help her with the unreal height. She moves astride, like she’s sitting on a magnificent horse and tangles her hands in the thick fur at the back of Meadows neck. Making sure she gets a tight grip, because what’s coming is sure to knock the wind out of her. Hyper speed can injure humans, so I know this witch will have done something to make sure she can endure it.
“Focus on the task. Leave the rest to me. Your boy will be back in your arms before you know it, Princess… or is that Luna? I guess either works now.” She throws me that Scottish brogue and a confident smile, the cheeky oozing with her words. Knowing fine well in all his she is in no danger whatsoever. I can see it in her complete lack of care about what’s happening.
She’s immortal, powerful, and this is just a walk in the park for her. No matter the outcome today, she will live, unscathed and probably be telling this story in thousands of years to come. I envy her right now. For that lack of fear, that certainty of her own existence… her confidence comes from the fact she has no natural predators in the world, and nothing can physically kill her.
Luna, it’s time… give the order. Meadow’s mind link for me alone causes a sudden lurch of my stomach and I clench my fists to counteract the sweep of cold terror as I nod. Outwardly calm and in control for my people, yet inside, I’m shaking. I lift my hand high in the air to attract all eyes while I link to the pack, being sure to feel all minds as one, and one word is all I need. In mind link it’s clear and bold, whereas my own voice would have never been able to utter it at all.
Move.
It happens so fast. The sweep of hyper speed, flying fur, and like a tide we pass the rune border in unison. Each of us protected from the fog and fill our lungs with its sour greenish heaviness, adjusting to the gloom so we can see ahead. I’m startled at the fact I can taste it, feel it invading my lungs like a dense smoke from a burning fire, yet it smells and tastes like a damp early dawn on the mountain as winter turns. Rotting plants and leaves giving it that earthiness while it slows down my breathing as I labor to push through it. It’s cloying.
It took her all night to find a way to be sure that turning wouldn’t remove any kind of protection and she did, as an extra measure to the potion… seems the base of a foot is the one place on a wolf you can put a magical symbol and it stays. Who knew? Even in turning where we shed all human things, our feet keep enchanted paint. So, between magic potions and painted sigils, we should be safe.
Every single wolf who showed up here an hour ago was tended to, marked, and she recited incantations over all present to protect us from the fog. She called them double measures, just to be sure.
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