38

Gathering your resolve and convictions around you like a cloak, you grip the door's wooden handle, twist, and push, only to be met with resistance. You push again—harder this time.

"Wait a gods-damned minute!" Sonoma barks. Moments later the door opens a crack, revealing a short chain attached to the wall. She sniffs when she sees you, lips pulling back along the length of her blood-flecked muzzle. "I wasn't sure if you'd be able to make it, Holstein. Mitena tells me that you're lucky to be alive. If you hadn't been in wolf form, we'd be burying you alongside the others right now." She thumbs her nose, leaving a dark red streak.

"So…" she says, unlocking the door and pulling it open for you. The stench of the place nearly bowls you over. "You up for a little interrogation? That's why you came?" She notes your expression. "The smell of these pieces of shit, am I right? They come here to kill us—to commit genocide—and this is what they got instead," she chuckles humorlessly. "They think they're so much better than us—that we don't deserve to live. Well I'll tell you one thing: I'm tired of the Elders' Circle and General Rivera trying to tell me that we need to treat our prisoners with respect. I expect that kind of weakness from old wolves whose times are done, but Rivera should know better."

"So you intend to torture them to death? That may be going too far, even for you, Sonoma. They're living creatures!"

"I'm all for a little bloody revenge. Crimes against the pack must be punished. Mind if I step in?"

"They deserve to die for crimes against the pack, but they should be put down quickly. The Circle won't allow this to continue and you know it."

"This isn't going to solve anything. Once they die you'll still feel hollow inside. You have a choice, Sonoma."

"You have to stop this torture. I won't allow you to do this in the name of our species!"

Next

Sonoma growls at you, a deep rumbling in the back of her throat. "You are in no position to disallow anything!"

"Sonoma," you say cautiously, "I know you're angry. I'm angry too. But humans aren't all like these people. I know you're aware of that."

The packleader twitches, almost uncomfortably. "I know very well what they pretend to be. I've been in this game far longer than you, pup. I think you're growing a little too fond of hearing your own voice. The position you hold here? You serve at my pleasure. You hold sway with the wolves of Haven and the elders speak well of you, but that doesn't make you my equal!"

You take a step back, caught off-guard by Sonoma's tirade. "Look," you say, "we need to be reas—"

She shoves you away from the door. "What we need is for you to learn your place! The humans want us dead and you're more concerned about their lives, even after they shot you from the woods like cowards! Think hard on this, Holstein: the time is coming where we'll all need to fight together to survive, and I need to be able to count on you as a warrior, not a weak-kneed dog afraid to get his claws bloody." She slams the door in your face, leaving you stunned.

"Gods," you mumble to yourself. "She's losing control…."

Next

You're not sure how long you wander throughout the camp in a daze, but eventually you find yourself at one of the freshly-dug graves. You shake your head and the world spins on an uneven axis—you must have lost more blood than you thought if your wolf form is still in this rough shape. It takes several seconds for your eyes to focus on the gravestone enough to properly read it. "Anata," you say out loud. The name sounds familiar, one of Inferi's Metalhead gang, you think. You never got to know them. Never will, now. They escaped the Nail only to die out here in an attack by your father's mercenaries. Is this what awaits you all? An early grave? There has to be a better way!

You move on, drifting unsteadily toward your barracks. You just need to lay down for a little while, that's all. The few wolves that you pass eye you with concern, but none of them speak up, either hurrying about their business or too caught up in their own thoughts to ask if you're okay. Many of them smell angry, others simply sad.

You throw open the barracks door and flop down on your bed with a deep sigh of relief as the world stops spinning for a moment. You can feel your body healing itself as you lie still, and you wonder what it must be like to be human, not able to shift and heal from basic wounds or sickness. Could it be jealousy that drives their hate? You bite your lip and feel a tingle as it immediately tries to heal around your tooth. You're feeling better already.

Next

It doesn't take long for you to grow restless. You sit up, pulling your fur-covered legs off the bed and out over the floor as you listen in on a conversation on the other side of the cabin.

"I heard that Sonoma was going to give a speech in the council chamber soon," one wolf says.

"She's basically got to," the other replies. "Morale's down the shitter. I'm not gonna bother going; I've had enough bullcrap for one day."

A knock on the door drowns out whatever is said next. Maybe it wasn't important. You get up and open the door; it's time you stopped moping about and did something useful anyway.

"Oh, hey, Holstein!" It's Dena, and she looks like she's in a hurry.

"Hi, Dena, what's up?"

"Ahote wanted to know if you were up for helping him with some ideas. For the activists' campaign."

You may be right," Dena says. "Ahote certainly thinks so. He said the longer we wait the more inevitable extinction will be. Anyway, I'm headed back. Hopefully I'll see you there!"