Part One 

"Go this way. You, move to the other side of the tent." I could hear soft whispers outside of my bunk. Paws padded their way across the hard ground, my sensitive ears picking up the racket they made unconsciously. Laughing slightly to myself, I shifted my weight slightly from one leg to the other. RedFang slid alongside me, my brother-at-arms. I could see his scarlet eyes glimmer in the little moonlight contained with us. 

Nodding, we moved away from each other, slowly, quietly, nails upturning the softer dirt under our canvas home. I gazed over my shoulder, pulling on my marked bow and quiver, lifting my spear from its rack. RedFang waited patiently for me to equip; claws and teeth were all he needed. I almost heard the moist sounds of his tongue rubbing along his blood tainted teeth. I did detect the noise of lips curling and a deep guttural growl. 

With that, we attacked. 

The cloth of our tent sliced nicely under my spear's sharpened edge. It ripped loudly beneath the onslaught of RedFang's claws. Mine may have been better suited to the purpose; I was named for them, DeepClaw; but I chose my weapon. Like a shadow, the panthers fled from our combined war cry; a howling to the Moon, to the goddess. The stars glittered almost above their heads and we easily saw them. 

My nails dug into the ground as I raced across the forest, following them. Pausing, I sniffed the air. An injured wolf was nearby, its blood overwhelming. Taking to the tree by my trail, I placed my lance down on some cross branches and lifted my bow carefully above my head. The specially designed arc of this weapon, fitted to my forepaws, felt light and easily controlled. I fitted a shaft into the string and waited; my black fur gave me comfort in security. The only things to give me away now were my white chin, my iced eyes and the silver medallion at my neck. The Black Jewel was in a worry though, caught out, adrenaline rushing through its veins. All I had to do was be patient. 

An easy talent for a Wolf-Run tracker. 

I flexed my toes, digging my dull nails into the bark; a few stray pieces fell to the earth. All I had to do was wait. I had seen the evidence that one left. His paws left clear prints in the dirt, the grass had been dried clean off by his fur. He knew another was going to catch up to him and he dare not allow that fighter to be left behind. 

There had only been one set of prints. This was the one I was going to wait for. 

Grass shuddered underneath the paws that came running towards me. Another panther-warrior was coming. I held tight to the bow and shaft, patience holding me rock still. The warrior walked slowly up to the tree, resting her forepaw on the tree beneath me. 

She was no fighter. The females of the Black Jewels stayed in the village. A noise sounded in a tree across the path and she turned, tail flickering. I caught a glimpse of it and sucked in my breath. Half her tail was missing. The Black Jewels absolutely preened over their tails. As far as I could remember, no Bone Gnawer had ever tore a tail off. 

Behind me a bird screamed, cranky that I was in its tree. The female turned towards the tree, her amber eyes glistened in the night air. We paused, gazing at each other like that for a brief second and then I loosed my arrow. It buzzed through the air, slicing her cheek as she moved away. Blood dripped down her chin. It cleaned away the ashes rubbed into her fur; I could see its true color. Lifting her forepaw to her face, she rubbed off some of the blood and licked it from the tip of her finger. Her whole forepaw was coated in red liquid. I growled at the smell of RedFang's blood on her fur. 

She turned around and took off into the night, back towards my camp. I snatched up my spear and jumped to the ground, landing roughly and rolling. Seconds lost to regain my balance, I slipped my bow over my shoulder. My spear I jammed over my back and pulled a belt tight around my waist to hold it in place. She had too much time on me; I dropped to all fours and ran as quickly as my long nails would allow me, my weapons making me clumsy. 

A howl came from just outside the camp. I called back, other werewolves from the pack doing the same. We raced to the sound of RedFang's anguished whimpers. I arrived first. 

Many times I think back, relive those last few seconds of my best friend's life and curse myself. My oath as a Wolf-Run tracker-warrior bound me to my bunkmate as comrades-in-arms. But RedFang was also my friend since we were pups, born in the same littering with different mothers but from the same Mother Tribe. 
I tripped over my own forepaws, nails driven into the dirt at the speed of my turn. As I looked up, I watched that accursed female fighter take her staff that she had left there and drive the end of it into RedFang's injured body, tearing the heart apart. His cries ended as he looked at me; fear and confusion clouded his dark red eyes. He hadn't been able to get close enough to her to use his mouth or forepaws in the fight; the end of her staff had been sharpened for this purpose. 

Red arose in my vision; at the time, I imagined that this was RedFang saw through his own eyes, bloodlust. The moon flashed on her cold smile as she stepped back from my frenzied swing. I bellowed in frustration and remembered the spear on my back. Grabbing it, I used the blade to slice through the leather straps on my chest and hide-string of my bow. They clunked thickly behind me and I rushed back into the melee. 

With wide movements, I slipped the handle to the very end in my paw. The edge flashed through the nightlight, clipping the bushes behind my shredded tent. My eyes flashed back and forth, trying to find the half-tailed ashen werebeast that had killed my best friend. My whole view of the forest was scarlet and I was lost with my other senses blocked by fury. She had to be somewhere near me. She wouldn't have run away. 

A branch snapped behind me and I ignored it, engulfed in anger towards that one creature. It was my almost fatal mistake. An arrow found its way to my exposed back, piercing the thick fur and flesh almost at the same time. I fell to my knees, reaching for it, for my own bow. My cries echoed through the wood as another planted itself into my neck, to the side. The red in my eyes turned black and I lost consciousness before I had even felt the ground pound into the side of my head. 


Part Two 

"Captain, are we almost there?" My eyes fluttered open slightly, then snapped back shut from the bright light. I felt the tight cords bound around my wrists and ankles; they tugged at my fur and skin everytime one of the two carrying me stumbled on a loose rock, which was often. We weren't in their territory, they would've known how to walk carefully through it. The werepanthers had taken me farther away from my home than I believed likely. 

"We'll rest here, eat, continue," their leader stated. I was dropped roughly onto the ground. A rock drove itself deep into my back; I resisted the urge to twitch away from it. They walked over to their captain and sat down to eat. I risked opening my eye just wide enough to be able to see the three of them with their backs to me. Jaws moved steadily up and down, tearing at the smoked meat. It smelt acrid to my nose; disgusting. I couldn't imagine how they could eat that. The one I believed to be their captain sat at a more carefully placed angle. He could see me, if the sun wasn't glaring practically direct into his eyes. He bared a dark red scar on his right shoulder where fur no longer growed. 

They ate quickly enough and came back to get me. The two hefted at the same time and tried to lift me from the ground. My shoulders slammed back into the ground; I had undone the ropes slightly with my long nails. I slapped my forepaws onto either side of the blade of the spearhead as the one in front dropped it. (They had used my spear, finding it convenient and quick with the other werewolves racing at them.) Throwing the tip back into the air, I grabbed the werepanther's ankles and pulled him back towards me. He fell over backwards, my spear coming down in time to stop him from hitting the ground; his blood splashed my face. 
Shoving him away, I tugged my hindpaws out of the binds and kicked hard into the other one's midsection. He doubled over and landed roughly on the jagged rocks. I rolled to the side to avoid the arrow that stuck itself into the ground where my head had been a second ago. My ear tore in the part that the point had driven through. I lifted my lance from the ground and, using the flat, knocked away the bow; it would come in useful later. He poised his forepaws in front of his face, hoping for a claw-to-claw fight. I am an honorable warrior and cannot decline such an offer with the use of a longer reaching weapon. 

I threw it to the side and held my own forepaws up, palms flat. He rushed me immediately, swinging with his claws extended at my neck. The thickness of my mane had tricked him and he missed it, catching instead a few stray furs. I snapped my paw out and hit him in the side of the head. They had their agility, but this werepanther in particular had strengthened himself beyond usefulness; he was slow and sluggish. He hadn't trained for speed combined with strength as well as the Wolf-Run had trained me. I used it to my advantage. 

Catching him on the side of the neck, I cut the main artery there. He fell and again, I saw fear and confusion in the eyes of a dying werebeast. How many more times would I see that uncomprehending look? 

Blood poured into my eyes; feral, delicious bloodlust. I retrieved my spear from the ground and stepped over his prone body. With one paw on each side, I looked into his eyes. That look drove me further into a fury. I raised the lance above my head and slammed it down into his neck, twisting it violently to sever his spinal cord. He died with that look locked forever in his eyes. 

That was when I remembered the other two. I turned around to see one standing, still winded. His fur darkened with a blood splattered glance from me. Two steps. That was all I took to kill. One step, my spear came up. Two steps, my spear came out the other side of his heart. It was all one fluid dance. Swinging around, I took that same weapon and stabbed it through the werepanther on the ground. He was already dead, but it never hurts in the game of survival to make sure. 

I looked around and saw the ground covered in that red life. It wasn't my eyes, it was the carnage I had caused with nothing more than my paws and my weapon. I could feel a dull ache inside the quick of my nails. The bloodlust pulsed through them and I knew the feeling was traveling back to my eyes. Shaking my head, I scooped the bow and removed the quiver of arrows from the leader. Turning my back on the savagery, I left for the woods. 


Part Three 

Where to go, I did not know. This area was extremely unfamiliar to me. None of the scents were what I was used to. I could not smell werewolf anywhere, but there was a faint odor of wolf in the air. Of full-fledged wolf, not a one that would grow to my clan. That scent was not the one of my Mother Tribe. It was a different wolf pack that lived here. I knew it was a pack, for I could smell the Alpha Male and Female's markings. 

Truly, I had never felt more alone. I was in distant territory, away from my pack and didn't know where to go. Directions I knew; my place in them, I did not. If I were to start the climb north, would I move farther from my holdings? What about south? I needed some landmark. Any landmark. Just the slightest little trace to tell me where I was. 

By now, the sun had set and the ground grew cold under my hindpaws. I had no blankets, no knife aside from the blade of my spear. Foolishly, I had searched not the werepanthers mind for the arrows. Now, it was too dark to head back to them. Other creatures had probably already stolen what food they'd on them; mayhap even taken their bodies somewhere. Tramping back through an unknown forest, in the dark, to an area where I would find almost no evidence save for the feel of blood beneath my paws. The earth itself had probably already taken that away though. The Mother-Earth was a harsh damn. She took from her children what the Mother-Moon had given them. 

Then, she could always just relinquish their blood, thereby their souls, to her brother Helios who would eternally use his nine tailed whip to punish them for their sins. Most werewolves wished to imagine the werepanthers there, under his watchful eye and his ungentle paw. How many of them believed, in all actuality, that they would be taken to the Mothers' Forest? How many of my brethren could say that they had not shed the blood of others coldly? I could not. 

My paw slipped on a rock and I reached out, grasping the tree branch in front of me blindly. My nails ground into the flesh. Leaves tickled my snout as they fell from the twigs. I was too tired to continue on. Regardless, I was blind and not minded to try my nose out with new scents in the dark. Feeling with my forepaws, I gauged the tree I held to be strong enough to hold me for the night and hauled myself into it. The crotch was wide enough for me to lay in it, though my legs hung down from the sides. I rested the bow, quiver and lance across parallel branches, then closed my eyes. 

~ * ~ 

When I rose the next morning, the sun was high, centered in the afternoon sky. I had overslept. Picking up my weapons, I jumped from the tree. This day, a scent caught me unguarded. The smell of werepanthers. Live werepanthers. I could feel a growl deep within my throat, guttural and rough. It came unbidden but automatic; a self-defense not yet grown out of werewolves. 

This time I could not use my fur to my advantage; if anything the black would stand out vividly against the green foliage that surrounded me. Looking around for somewhere else to hide, I sniffed the air again, trying to discover the direction from which they would attack me. I paused. Stupidly, I had allowed it to throw me off. These werepanthers had already passed by long since. The musky scent was extremely faint. It was only then that I noticed my fur was almost soaked through with the night's passing rain. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, I decided to continue on the way I had essentially chosen last evening; due East. It was as good a direction as any and my personal symbolis zodiacal direct. Setting off, I trooped through the woods, ground slickened with fallen leaves. My paws slipped on the branches hidden in little lumps of them. Once, twice maybe, I fell and banged my chin off of the lower hanging branches. Blood, almost as dark as the liquid that crowded my vision, dripped down my chin; I could taste it on my tongue and in the back of my throat. 

A treck through the woods, unaccompanied, and especially in broad daylight, is an uneventful thing and I'll continue not on describing it. Instead, I'll tell of the next day's happenings. 


Part Four 

The day next I arrived at an encampment made in a large clearing surrounded by dense trees and thickets. I had never known until then that the werepanthers had taken me into their own territory. Was it calculated? Or had I not given them time to take me to the original area? Either way, it perturbed me slightly to smell their scent so strong and concentrated in one single place. 

I had narrowly missed being caught by their guards. Feeling the bloodlust boiling in my veins, I climbed the nearest tree and took out the took patrol guards with arrows from my perch. It was not a usual thing for werewolves to do, but nonetheless I drug their bodies into the trees to avoid detection. Using my spearhead, I cut back the skin from around the back where my arrowheads had sunk themselves in; I had few arrows and needed to conserve them. 

Stripping the werepanthers of their side daggers and a sword sheathed in a wolfskin scabbard (at this I recoiled because the musky scent so familiar to mine), I cut branches and covered their bodies with them; in the dark, they would be hidden well enough by their fur. For now though, I wanted to make sure I wasn't found out. 
Before I went back to the pack, I was going to figure out some way that we could destroy this fortress. If we could get rid of the home of the enemy, we could scatter them to the Four Winds and keep them from regrouping enough allies to attack our village. We could, in the first time of living memory, live in peace from the werepanthers. I could help. 

I would return to my people a brave soul, adventuring through territory where no werewolf had been. I would be allowed to lead the charge into the fortress. I would - 

I would forget my fantasies. First, and foremost, I had to discover a way to invade and decimate the foe before I could think upon what would happen afterwards. 
Slipping from tree to tree, I jumped onto a sturdy branch as near, and as well covered, as I dared to go to the outer wall. Small tents were set around the outside of the village. I could see werepanther cubs playing with each other, pouncing and jumping at tails and ears. A few mothers sat around the outside, legs crossed on coarse animal skin blankets, watching their children and holding younger ones. 

Closer to the center of the clearing sat a bigger tent, possibly the one for war meetings. When they decided to attack our tribe, they probably met in there and planned strategies. Would any of them be in there now? Are they discussing the next assault? I had no way of guessing other than to go into the village myself and I was not greatly minded to do so. 

Coarse trumpets sounded and the mothers looked up expectantly. They're kittens crawled over by them and sat patiently. I followed their line of sight towards a tent at the far end that I hadn't noticed before. The flaps were pulled aside by two young werepanthers, bowing quickly as they did. 

A large werepanther, shoulders draped with a cape made of a softer fur than the females sat on, stepped out, flanked by four werepanthers carrying spears and two carrying bows and side knives. With a great flourish, he swung his cape off of a shoulder and held his forepaws into the air. Some of the werepanthers leaned forward to listen; males had come out of the tents. 

"Werepanthers! Black Jewels of the Forest! The time has come! Let us partake in the Festival of Strength!" Roaring met my ears as the others below me agreed readily with their leader. I watched eagerly to see what this 'Festival of Strength' was. Two of the guards carrying spears moved into the largest tent and came out, forcing wolves ahead of them. Full bred wolves, as the ones I had smelled. 

I saw one of them in particular shoved out towards their leader. One of the bow-carriers came forward and hooked a rope around him agilely, avoiding injury. The grey wolf fell to the ground as his ankles were pulled together. He laid there, whimpering and pulling his legs futilely. The leader walked forward, one of his team taking his cloak, and raised his paws, extending the claws. 

I could almost see the bloodlust growing in him as it did in me. He licked his lips. Then, in a swift fluid movement, he plunged his forepaw deep into the wolf's chest. The crack of his ribs were clearly audible from my position in the trees. I jerked then and fell back against the tree. Holding still, hoping my black fur would camouflage me, I breathed deep. He had just killed a wolf out of cold blood. I doubt it had even done anything to his prowl. 

Leaning forward, I looked out from the branches to see him standing with the blood dripping off his upraised paws. In one of them, he clutched tightly to the heart of the wolf. Roars and growls answered his actions. Barely holding in the contents of my stomach, I fumbled blindly through the leaves. Blood flowed into the ice of my eyes and I gasped for breath, finding my throat constricted. 

"My fellow Jewels!" I heard from the village. "I have proven to you once again that I, as your leader, have earned right of blood to my name, Deep-Claw!" My nuance was lost. I couldn't inhale, I couldn't exhale. I couldn't think straight. This wolf-murderer was named Deep-Claw because of his actions?! We shared this name and I cringed at the thought. Why? 

"Slaughter the rest of them! Enjoy the feast, Black Jewels!" I looked out over the wall, morbid curiousity driving me. The four lancers moved in, poking at the wolves torturingly. The two archers stood back, bows held at the ready. One by one, they stabbed the remaining four bitches and a beta male wolf. Werepanthers fought over the meat. I watched in disgust as they bit the bodies, tearing off raw chunks of flesh. 

Enough. I slid back into the tree and dropped to the ground, running as far away from the carnage as I could. Night slid over day's light and I fell where I may, sleeping. 


Part Five 

Growls awoke me from my fitful unconsciousness. Opening one glazed eye, I glimpsed upon the purebloods that surrounded me. I sat up quickly, pulling my lance to protect me. I would not attack, but I would defend. The largest wolf, an icy white one, stepped forward and yipped. 

"What are you doing here, Moonblood? This is not your territory." I waited a second, contemplating my answer. 

"I was brought here. I was taken from my pack by werepanthers." The wolves around me laughed contemptuously. The white one snapped at them, bringing them easily to silence; the Alpha Male. 

"What do you do here, Moonblood? What have you to do here? I see no werepanthers. Why do you not return to your pack?" he asked, barking and whining. He shifted, paw to paw, watching me carefully. 

"I am lost! I do not know the way back to my pack. This is unfamiliar terrain and I've no idea where I am. Alpha Male, help me! Help a fellow wolf-" 

"Wolf?!" he howled. "You are no wolf! You are a Moonblood! You were born under the wolfsbane on the full moon and drank of the rain in your mother's pawprints! You are no wolf!" I was taken aback at his brashness. I had done nothing wrong and yet he yelled at me as though I had. 

"Brother! Do not lie to me! You are no wolf either! You're too large. You were born under the wolfsbane on the full moon as well; did you not drink of your mother's rain?" The white one jumped me and went for my throat. I pulled my lance up and jammed it into his jaws. He chewed on its handle, pushing his head closer to me. I could feel his breath dampening my fur. 

"Frost! Stop it!" a voice growled. His eyes rolled back, looking at the black female behind him. On her chest glowed a white crescent. "DeepClaw," she said in a voice that made my mind reel. 

"Mother?!" 

~ * ~ 

We sat around in the clearing. Mother sat across from me, cleaning her new pup, Mudeye; he would grow to be a werewolf as well. I could see it in his eyes, one covered in a brown spot for which he was named. He looked at me happily as our mother licked his back. She talked to me with her eyes as she did. 

"Frost is your younger brother. Don't mind him. He's jealous that you're a Moonblood. We had a draught at the time when he was born, so there was no rainwater for him to drink. He was forced to be a crossblooded wolf. But he seems to have taken advantage of his size. Your father died soon after you joined the Bone Gnawers and he established himself as Alpha. The others are not extremely happy with the settlement, but they're also not big enough to fight him with much of a hope." She stopped washing her puppy for a moment to look at me curiously. Her head tilted over to the side as her ebony eyes wandered up and down my body. She paused at my forepaws, taking in the long toes, the long nails. 

"Hmph," she laughed quietly. "That is the reason I have loved you so much. For the pain you gave me with those claws of yours." 

"White Moon? What do you talk to this Moonblood for? He has invaded our territory." Frost trotted up to her, his shoulders bulking in the night's light. Purposely, he walked between the two of us. 

"This is more his territory than yours, Frost. He has the right of his blood to it. This is his Mother Tribe. Do not disgrace your mother over your petty jealously." She stood then and left. My mother. 

Frost glared at me, his icy eyes reflecting mine in so many ways. I think he saw it, too, for he turned tail, leaving me with Mudeye. The little puppy watched me happily, innocently unaware in his youth of what had just passed. I placed my forepaw on the little one's head and stroked him gently behind the ears. 
Mother came back. She sat down, leaning gently against me. I was still aware of the pressure she could assert over me, though she was not half my size; she was 
Mother. 

"Mother, would you help me?" I asked. She gazed at me, ears flicking; I could feel it against my fur. 

"What would you like help with, DeepClaw?" I waited, wondering if I should tell her. Wondering if I should ask. 

"I need to assail the fortress of the Black Jewels. I need my Mother Tribe to help. Would you try to convince Frost to help me?" I whimpered, like when I was a little puppy. Hopefully, Mother would take sympathy on me. She smiled at me, her tail wagging and nodded. 

"I'll try, but I cannot guarantee anything my son." With that, she ran after my younger brother to talk to him. I could see her black fur blocking out his glistening silverish fur in the Moon's light. I could only wait, and hope. 

Curling down, my weapons placed carefully beside me, I started to sleep. Mudeye shoved his snout under my foreleg and slept there. 


Part Six 

"Mother?" 

"You are lucky that he still knows how to respect his mother, child," she said laughingly. I nodded. Across the clearing, Frost watched me, listening, trying to pick up spare parts of my conversation with Mother. His ears perked on his own name. Standing up, he crossed to us and sat down, ears folded back, teeth bared. 
"What do you talk to the Moonblood about, Mother?" he asked harshly. Eyes snapped at me and in them, he held a hatred transcending blood species. 

"I talk of your agreement with me to help your elder brother." 

"I suppose you have neglected the part about how you threatened to part my pack against me." 

"Your pack," she growled. "This is my pack, child! I am your Mother! I am all of their Mothers!" She gestured to the wolf pack that was congregating around us; black and brown, white and grey spots in the forest. "You will obey your Mother, child! Or you will be blood-cursed by Mother-Moon and Mother-Earth! And may Brother Helios, darken your blood until it boils black!" Mother turned her back and walked off, Mudeye on her ankles. 

Frost turned and snarled at me. He bared white teeth, aggression flooding his senses. Before anything happened, his face changed into passiveness and he ran away. I sat there, startled at the display. The wolves around me moved uneasily. They muttered amongst themselves, as unsure as I was as to what had just happened. 

Standing, I left the circle; they parted quickly for me. 

~ * ~ 

"We will attack tonight, Moonblood. Be prepared. When Helios makes way for his sister's lover, we will leave." Frost left me to the pack to explain. My plan was a simple one, seperate and surround the fort. The wolves would howl to distract the werepanthers, making them to believe the Bone Gnawers had found them while I slipped in, hopefully unnoticed, and attacked Deep-Claw, their leader. Without a leader, all packs, all prowls are in disorder and confusion. Only then, would I send for the others to assail the village straight forward. 

For now, this needed to be a quick in-and-out attack. 

"We leave on Moon's light." 

~ * ~ 

"Werewolves! WEREWOLVES!" the cry sprang up around the village. From my position in the trees, I could see mothers pulling at their cubs' paws, taking them to the safety of the shelter. Sires came racing from the homes, weapons on paw. I did not kid myself; some of my brothers and sisters would die in this attack. I did not lie to them either. They knew. 

I howled, signalling for the others to move around away from me and keep the distraction going. I could see the flashes of grey and white as they raced through the underbrush. A few of the black and brown wolves were visible but barely. I was hoping for that. Clouds spotted the sky, making it hard to see the others; but werepanthers have better night sight then werewolves. 

A cry went up as one of my family was shot and felled. I had no time to let it occupy my mind though. Pulling an arrow from my quiver, I fitted the shaft to string and took aim. A werepanther holding a bow at the other end of the village fell, his legs giving out as his heart did. Others made their way to him, hoping to help him. In a flurry of arrows, the three closest to him dropped. 

Hooking the bow back over my shoulder, I removed the sword from its scabbard and pulled the daggers clean out of their sheaths. My lance would have to stay where it was. 

A lone werepanther wandered under me, confused. I jumped from the tree and landed neatly behind him. He turned, too young to be sure what to do. Bloodlust coiled in my veins and my vision blurred dark, rich red. 

I left one of my daggers behind. 

Sticking to the outskirts of the village, slipping from shadow to shadow with my fur aiding me, I made my way to that tent I had seen in the back. It was well positioned. Only a rocky cliff protruded behind the tent and on each side was the civilians' homes. But, had they been smart, they would've had snipers in the trees. I wouldn't have made it anywhere near this close. 

The tent stood open, guards gone to fend off the "werewolves." A clear shot for me. Slipping the sword back into its scabbard, I clamped my jaws shut on the remaining dagger. Dropping to all fours, I sped towards the flickering patch of light. Sliding into it, I held the knife out to cut the rope that left it open. The flaps fell into place and I was alone in the tent. 

Mind for Deep-Claw. 


Part Seven 

He stood from his chair. I grabbed the dagger at the tip and threw it. Unthinkingly, he dodged it. A dull thud resounded in the silence between us as it hit a pile of wood at the back of the tent. My bow slipped off of my shoulder and, a second later, was pulled taught. 

"You don't want to kill me, DeepClaw," he purred in that voice I had heard only two days earlier. He moved closer to me, slowly and confidently. I gripped tighter on the small bow. 

"You have to die. I will be the one to do it." 

"Mayhaps. But not with such an impersonal way to do it." He came up to me and removed the bow from my paws. I let it go. Reaching to the side, he removed a spear from the wall. "Choose yours." 

Watching him, I sidestepped to the rack and chose a long spear, slightly weighted at the front. Now, we fought. 

I rushed him, making the first move. Swinging the lance at his midsection, he easily blocked and deflected it, hitting me on the rump as he passed. I growled, bloodlust almost blinding me. His move. 

With slow and practiced steps, he planted a solid hit in my side. Blood dribbled down in my fur, caught and dried. I moved my paw down to press on the wound, then thought better of it. I gripped the handle and jumped in the air, coming from above to attack. Again, he deflected my attack and hit me. Thought would not do. 

He was used to fighting against warriors that were trained. 

My sight was now lost as I gave into that sixth sense of bloodlust. My fur felt too hot and I wanted nothing more than to taste the lifeblood of my enemy on my tongue and in the back of my throat. Before I left myself to it, I gave a final howl, punctuated with barks. White Moon, my mother, would now start her run to the Bone Gnawers and give word that I had either defeated the leader, or died in the effort. She would lead them back to this place and, with the help of the Mother Tribe, they would decimate the werepanthers. 

Giving in, in a way that made me feel as if I had never felt relief before, I allowed the bloodlust to control my frenzied movements; thinking not on how to do them, but only on what I was to accomplish with them. 

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, my mind came back to me, full again. Only long enough, though, for me to realize that I had fallen. 

~ * ~ 

I awoke in my own bed, unaware of what had come to pass. Mother slept on the bottom of my cot, Mudeye shoved into her chest fur. Stirring, she stretched and opened an eye in my direction. I lulled my tongue out, warm under my blankets. Trying to remove them, I found that I had received quite a few more wounds after my release into bloodlust. Mother stood and pulled some of them off. 

Gazing down at myself, I saw the only injury I had remembered having; the cut in my belly. Crisscrossed on my forelegs and hindlegs were dozens of cuts, all of them covered in salve. My chest had one particularly deep cut in it that was covered with a tight wound animal skin. On my stomach were the most serious of the hits. Dark blood smeared through all of my fur, matting it down. 

"Do you feel any better, DeepClaw?" Mother asked. Mudeye wandered past her and sat by my face, licking my muzzle. I licked him back, rolling him over with my snout. 

"He'd better feel better. Mother-Moon knows I don't." Frost's large head came up over the side of my bed. Across his right eye was a dark scab where he had been attacked; that eye no longer opened. "I almost died killing that werepanther after you fell. You'd better feel better." His head disappeared back where it had come from. 

~ * ~ 

"Are you well enough to walk, DeepClaw?" a werewolf named Greyling asked me. I nodded and removed myself from my cot. The werewolf helped me to limp my way to the Main Hall, a place where werewolves were honored for the things they do for the pack. 

Our Matriarch, Silverbane, and her mate, Blackmark, sat at the front in their seats of honor. Greyling bowed before leaving me. Mother came in and sat beside me, Frost on my other side and Mudeye ever present at Mother's paw. Silverbane stood, her collar of silver fur that she was named for gleaming in the light of the fires. Blackmark stayed where he was, his own white fur shining save for his black paw. 

I attempted to go to one knee, but Silverbane shook her head no. I stayed standing, my sides aching with the effort. 

"White Moon, leader of the Bone Gnawers' Mother Tribe. I am pleased to meet you." Silverbane came forward and licked her muzzle as Mother licked her back. Frost bristled slightly, to be ignored as Alpha Male of his pack. 

"And you, crossblood. You have helped one of our pack. You will be rewarded as well." Silverbane sat back on her animal skin. She stared evenly at the three ... four of us. Mudeye smiled happily, tongue hanging far out, brown eyes glinting with emotion. He would never make a good warrior, but he would be a proud member of the Wolf-Run nonetheless. 

"For helping in the effort, Mother White Moon, we will find the remaining members of your pack and bring them here, to our territory to live. Away from what you once endured. You may live amongst our own pack if you wish. For those who did not survive the siege of the Black Jewels' home, we will give them the rights of a proper funeral pyre and pray that Mother-Earth is kind to their souls. You," she paused, looking at Frost. "You, you shall be given a place amongst our Wolf-Run as a honorary member. You have proven, that had you been a Moonblood, you would indeed have proved a fine member of our elite tracker-warriors." The Matriarch smiled then to see the slightly astounded look on Frost's white features. 

"And you." She looked directly into my eyes. "You shall be given right of blood to judge those of the Black Jewels that are left. I swear it by my own blood." Silverbane accepted the small ceremonial dagger that Blackmark passed her. She drew it along her wrist, allowing the blade to slice neatly through her fur and flesh. Blood trickled on to the dirt at her knees. 

"We will begin the process now." 

~ * ~ 

I paid no true heed to those that went and came, deciding only that mothers and kittens be spared their lives and allowed to live in their home. They would pay homage to our pack and, should a revolt be placed forward, that no life from the eldest werepanther to the newborn kitten will be spared. A few of the males were allowed to live to take care of the females, ones that had not taken part in the fighting. The reasons ranged from their inability to fight to their unwillingness to shed blood. 

When the half tailed werebeast came before us, she was cleaned and her true fur color was gold. She was a werelioness, cousins of the werepanthers. Had I returned to the pack like I had originally planned, we would have been done for. She was the daughter of the leader of the Gold Pelts, allies of the Black Jewels. They had planned to take the Bone Gnawers by force and run us to the Four Winds. 

"She will stay with me. I will apprentice her." 

"Are you sure, my son?" Mother had asked. "Do you truly want your enemy in your own home?" 

"She will stay with me. I will apprentice her," I repeated steadily. I don't know what it was, but I wanted this werelioness to find out what pain she had caused when she had taken my friend's life into her paws and killed him. She would be apprenticed as one of the Wolf-Run's own daughters are. I had none, did not plan on having any; she would be my apprentice. 

The rest of those we found were werelions which were all sentenced to die as most of the male werepanthers had been. They were lead away from the village later that day, a retinue of Wolf-Run members escorting them. They found their deaths at the paws of those who had chosen swords as their weapons. A few attempted to escape, but were shot by those who had chosen arrows. 

~ * ~ 

Tired as I was from the last few days, I laid my head down and went to sleep.