Erik tensed as the chill wind cut through the forest, his senses were on fire. Corbin would attack from the right, he always did. They had been taught predictability was death, yet the pup never learned that lesson. Erik made it a point to drive it home tonight.
The rustle of leaves, a breaking twig, Corbin burst from the undergrowth to Erik's right. His fangs aiming for his throat found nothing but air and with an unnatural grace Erik rolled to his back and buried his fangs into the pup's belly.
Corbin growled as he struck the ground, his belly torn open he knew he had lost the night. Damien still lurked however, he was confident Erik would go down.
Where are you?
Erik took to higher ground. He didn't want to be caught between the old wolf and Corbin. While wounded he could still prove a nuisance and any distraction would be disastrous with Damien involved.
The old wolf moved like a ghost. While Erik was confident in his heightened senses, considered far superior to the others of the pack save for the old wolf, he knew the threat here was real. Leaves danced along the forest floor as another gust of wind blew though towering Cypress and Erik felt it.
He was being watched.
Earth, Cypress, and Corbin's blood, nothing else. The old wolf was a native to the parish. He had haunted these woods long before Erik had even been born. Too old to lead he had said, too old to care. Not too old to make sure Eric was worth his salt however.
Where are you old wolf?
Increasing his stride he broke into a near lope before suddenly breaking left. He had mastered his breathing and had stopped just short of running out of it. This time he caught the movement.
Earth, Cypress, and Damien, he had his scent and knew he had got out in front of him. He knew nothing of the old wolf's hunting patterns or even his methods of attack. He was a true alpha. It was rare to find em' these days, especially this far south.
Only two packs remained in Orleans parish and another in Plaquemines. Most just pups like Corbin who grew tired of being loners. When Shep died, the whole pack grew restless and with Damien refusing to take lead the future of the pack was uncertain.
Again, a flash of movement from the corner of his vision, he was close. Still no sound and there would likely be none. Scent, sight, and instinct were his only allies in this fight.
Fuck
.
Erik howled as his opponent sunk is fangs into the nape of his neck, but instinct had him twisting under the old wolf with ease, loosening his bite and without any hesitation or fear he pounced at the grey wolf before he could set his footing.
Don't go for the body, pups always go for the body. With a snarl Erik clamped down on Damien's hock joint and with his the weight of his body behind him flipped to dislodge the joint completely. The old wolf howled in pain.
His transformation had started the moment he hit the ground signaling the hunt was over. Eric turned his muzzle to the sky. The cold air chilled his wet nose. It always started in the joints, expanding, contracting, the pain had become more bearable with age yet it took sheer will to remain silent.
For an alpha like Damien, there was no pain. The old man was already sitting cross-legged, setting his ankle joint and by the look on his face, even alpha's felt that pain. Twisting and contorting, Erik writhed on the ground.
"Focus on sky pup," the old man said. "The more you focus on the pain, the longer it takes."
Shep had told him the same, hell it was the first thing they learned. Old fuck had no respect for him even after taking him down.
"How's the ankle," Eric asked as he rolled on to his back.
"It'll be fine within the hour," he replied. "Corbin back there," he thumbed over his back, "may have bled out."
"Nah," Eric said. "I didn't open him up that much. He's probably already back at camp nursing his wounds."
Damien was just as intimidating as a human as he was a wolf. Well over six feet tall with a square jaw buried under a maze of thick grey stubble. His eyes were set deep and as with most alphas his eyes shone with a golden hue. His hair was long and silvery like the moon and on a night like this it reflected the moon light brilliantly.
"So you really wanna lead do ya boy?" he asked as he stretched his wounded leg out in front him.
"No one else will," he replied. Most pups who joined packs were natural followers, rare to find one with the desire and ability to lead.
"And why not join one of the other two packs?" Damien asked.
"We're all Orleans born," Eric started. "And join Gregory after what he did to Shep?"
"That was between them, not the packs."
"Doesn't much matter, I'm not running with that asshole." Eric sat up and rested on his palms. The moonlit sky contrasted his naked form radiantly against the dark forest floor.
"And when I'm gone, some alpha comes round, what then?"
"We'll deal," he replied. "And anyway, how likely is that anyway?"
"We ain't as rare as you think boy," the old man said. "We just don't make ourselves known. But you can bet if one comes round and decides to take the reins, you won't be stopping him."
"I stopped you tonight," Eric replied. Maybe he had gone easy on him, but that didn't seem like something Damien would do.
The old man let loose a sharp laugh. "Oh yeah in a straight fight you ain't so bad, but alphas got tricks you pups don't know about."
"Yeah, why didn't you use any tonight?"
"No challenge," he replied. "I had to know if you were capable."
"Well?"
"Oh, like I said you're a natural fighter." The old man flexed the toes of his wounded foot. "And given your background I know you don't lack in guile. You seem to have given up most of those drugs too."
Shep had told the old man more than he had thought. "So what's left?"
"We'll get to that, but first we run."
Just the word had Erik on his feet. The instinct of the wolf lingered as human, so did the desire to run. Back when he had first turned, he had been about fifteen and had been arrested four times while running naked through the streets of the Vieux Carré.
After he'd been found by Shepard he was taken out to Lake Boeuf and he had never felt so free. Now he found himself out here with Damien. "Your ankle?"
"Oh it's all good," he replied before taking off. Erik fell in behind him. He had run behind Shep many times, something about following an alpha just felt right. Alphas moved with a grace that was near enchanting to watch and when you could follow close and match their movements, you felt like the fucking wind.
The old man howled and Eric matched him as they darted between the looming Cypress trees. Lake Boeuf loomed before them and Damien didn't stop but ran full speed into its depths. The pull of the alpha led Erik in with him.
