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"There's nowhere left to run to anymore, Holstein," Dena wheezes. "If we have no more allies in the military, they can track us anywhere we go!"

"What do you mean? What happened to our allies?"

She coughs, and flecks of blood stain your fur. "Don't you get it? She gave us up! General Rivera led them right to us!"

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By the time you slam the door to Maker's laboratory behind you, Dena can barely stand on her own. You lift her up, placing her on one of the few lab tables empty of beakers and jars. "Maker! Are you here?" you cry out. "We need your help!" Running through the besieged camp with a wounded friend, your options had been fairly limited—the elders' cabin was cut off by soldiers, but Maker…well, beggars can't be choosers when a life hangs in the balance.

"Is it bad?" Dena asks, eyes studiously avoiding the area of the wound. "I feel like I should have healed by now." She grits her teeth. "Why isn't it healing?"

"I have a fairly good idea," Maker's sharp, feminine voice calls out from the back of the laboratory. She slinks out of the dark, the pale skin of her human form confined between orderly ribbons of midnight-black hair. She gazes down her tapered nose at Dena, her eyes tracking along the length of her chest to two crimson bullet holes. "Back in the Nail, one of the projects brought to me was the development of ammunition that would retard werewolf healing abilities. It was a fascinating subject to study, but much to my chagrin I was never able to make it work. Not that I would have shared accurate results with the humans, mind you, but I rarely turn down an opportunity to understand a new aspect of werewolf nature. If I were to venture a guess, I would say that my work was passed on to another researcher, likely an inferior intellect. Of course I'd already done the groundwork for them."

"So you're saying you loosened the jar lid before handing it back to them?"

"How could you even work on a project that you knew would be used to hurt us like this?"

"I agree that it's a fascinating subject, but you definitely shouldn't have kept detailed notes about it."

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"I can certainly agree on that count," Maker says. "I employ a very complicated shorthand. To be perfectly frank, I didn't expect anyone would be able to read it at all. But that's my burden to bear and recriminations can come later."

"If you know how this was done, you must know how to fix it, right?" Dena asks, wincing in pain as Maker probes at the wound with her index finger.

"Not without getting the bullet out of there." Maker makes eye contact with you and gestures at a table near the rear of the lab. "Be a good boy and fetch me some forceps, would you?"

"Are you sure it's wise to dig around for a bullet when the soldiers could be here any minute? We'd be sitting ducks."

I do what I'm told and race over to the table, grabbing a pair of forceps.

"Our healing usually forces the bullet out on its own. Do you have anything that could give her a boost and expel the bullet?"

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You hand the forceps to Maker as the distant rattle of gunfire slowly grows closer to your location. Hopefully Maker is as skilled as she seems to think she is.

"This will likely hurt as though you were in human form," Maker predicts as she gently pushes the metal instrument into Dena's side. "These aren't exactly used for this kind of work, but believe it or not, I've done it before with great success." Dena yips and squirms in pain as Maker does her work, eventually letting loose a full-throated howl. "That simply won't do," Maker grumbles. "She'll lead the soldiers right to us. Hold her muzzle shut, Holstein."

Dena's cavernous lupine chest heaves with desperate breath as she stares at you wild-eyed before giving you a consenting nod. You wrap your hands tightly around her muzzle, cradling both sides of her head with your arms and elbows to keep her thrashing about to a minimum. Finally, Maker removes the bloody forceps and you hear a metal "clank" as she drops the bullet into a dish to her side.

"Now for the second one."

Next

The moment you step outside Maker's cabin a volley of bullets nearly takes your head off, and you're forced down onto all fours, sharp lupine eyes tracking movement in the dark even as you seek safety by the edges of the cabin. A second later you spot a small squad of soldiers—at least three—crouching behind two small trees, weapons raised in your direction. Dena whimpers by your side. "I hate to be a burden, but I'm not sure I'm up for this."

"You have no choice," Maker whispers. "My lab doesn't have what we need to survive." She pauses. "The humans are wearing thermal goggles. They have the advantage. We should retreat."

"Where can we go?" Dena asks, a hint of panic in her voice. "We should rally together! Sonoma and her guards should be in her chambers or the mess hall."

"There's one thing we need to do first," Maker says, pulling Dena down just as another wave of bullets sweeps the edge of the cabin where she'd been crouching. "There's a bunker under Sonoma's cabin where she's been doing experiments for General Rivera."

"Why are you telling us this?" you ask. "And why haven't you changed to wolf form? I know you're stronger than most of us without transforming, but if you get shot like this you'll bleed out like any normal human."

"I'm telling you this because you're here and I need your assistance," Maker replies sharply. "I can't stand up to the entire army by myself, wolf form or not, but if you help me, we may not need to. Now stop asking questions and figure out how we're going to get past those soldiers."

I attack the soldiers, killing them before they can get too many shots off.

I attack the soldiers, but only resort to non-lethal take-downs.

I can probably circle around them without being seen, readying myself to deliver killing blows if necessary.

I'll try to approach the soldiers quietly, but only using non-lethal tactics.

Humans have a primal fear of werewolves—an unexpected charge and blood-curdling howl could send them running if I'm convincing enough.

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