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"His name was Logarth," Razath says. "Went back to his old-school name like I did. Back before Sonoma picked him up he was hiding in a small town calling himself Dan Smith. Can you believe it? Dan-fucking-Smith! That's no werewolf name! But he did us proud tonight, took at least three of those bastards out with him." He coughs a rough laugh. "We used to call him 'Log,' cause, ya know," he holds his hands far apart to indicate a great length. "He was always joking around. Had to, really—HSM killed his daughter. At that point it was either laugh or let the beast take over. Sometimes he'd laugh so hard you couldn't tell if he was actually crying. Always capped it with a joke though." He clears his throat. "Gotta save face, right? Anyway, I'll be pouring one out for him tonight. Fuckin-a, Log. Pack won't be the same without you."

On the far horizon you catch sight of a flickering glow and exchange looks with your companion. "What is that?"

"Fire," he says, worriedly sniffing the air. "Can just barely smell the smoke." His breath catches in his throat. "Oh Gods…that's our home!"

Fires Burn

The air is thick with heavy, black smoke as the convoy pulls up several hundred feet away from the blazing stockade and you leap out of the truck. Your eyes burn and you breathe through your mouth to spare your sensitive lupine nose. Everyone scrambles, searching for some way to help combat the fire.

I can make order out of this chaos. I assess the situation and organize the pack's efforts.

There's no time to waste thinking—I'm strong enough to rush in there and follow others' suggestions.

If I take a moment to examine my surroundings, I'm sure I can think up a quicker solution than running around like a mad-wolf.

Next

You call out to the others over the crackling of the flames, organizing an effort to start a bucket-brigade gathering water from the nearby stream the pack often uses as a water source. With your leadership and direction, the battle against the fire goes smoothly, and you're able to keep everyone calm despite the constant danger of a mass panic. In the end, the fire is snuffed out with a large portion of the stockade still remaining. Fortunately, it looks like none of the flames spread to the buildings inside.

Next

The air in the meeting hall shudders with conflicting voices, raised to a fevered pitch of both anger and frenzied agreement as the elders clash with Sonoma's loyalists. Even the typically neutral parties—the ex-prisoners and Inferi's Metalheads gang—stab accusing fingers and growl in outrage.

"If you hadn't gone on that idiotic raid, none of this would have happened!" Ahote yells at the top of his lungs, prompting a wheezing cough. "You—" He rasps for breath. "—you didn't even speak to us elders before planning it! We would never have signed up for such a reckless—"

"I won't have you questioning my decisions, old man," Sonoma barks, her face flush with anger. "My only fault was not realizing that you pathetic sacks of dust and shit couldn't hold down the fort for a single night without burning it to the ground! You blame me for the pack's violence, but you let a riot happen right under your noses? I was doing what I had to do to keep us safe!"

"Now hold on!" Elder Hanska butts in, stepping between the two, muzzle pinched with worry. "Sonoma did what she thought she had to do. I can accept that, but she shouldn't blame us for what happened here! We can't possibly be held to account for this outbreak of madness!"

"What the hell even happened?" Inferi yells, pushing her way to the front. "Another one of my gang died last night! We're falling like flies here! Havok goes crazy, Anata was killed when the HSM attacked, and now the one wolf I left behind from the raid is killed after some bullcrap in-fighting? This doesn't make sense! Something is wrong here!"

"Maybe your crew is just rotten!" another wolf shouts from the crowd. It's Sam, the wolf who showed you to your cell in the Nail—and partner of the wolf Havok killed. "I've always said you Metalheads were poison. It's unnatural. City-wolves! Whoever heard of such a thing?"

I defend the Metalheads: "I was born and raised in a city. We're just as natural as any other wolf."

I defend the elders: "You're out of line, Sonoma. Surely the elders can't be blamed for younger wolves getting out of control."

I defend Sonoma: "Look, Ahote, we were attacked by the HSM and Sonoma helped us fight back. If we hadn't gone tonight, they could have come back any time to wipe us out!"

I defend Sam and the former prisoners: "We need to see it from the prisoners' side! They only just escaped and now everything's falling apart. Of course they're scared!"

Next

Sonoma stares twin daggers at you. "It sounds to me like they want all the power to make decisions but none of the responsibilities of leadership. They question my decisions and think they can dictate how my camp is run, but when they're left in charge it all falls apart and it's somehow not their fault!"

"Elders make policy, Sonoma," Elder Hanska cuts in. "We don't jump between feral wolves to pry them apart from each other when they go mad. We lack the physical capacity."

The door to the council chambers bursts open, letting in a frigid gust of air as General Rivera storms Sonoma's podium in wolf-form, dark brown fur quivering with barely-contained rage. "You just couldn't contain yourself, could you?" the general raves and she leaps up into Sonoma's face. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Sonoma growls deep in the back of her throat and thrusts herself higher in the air overtop Rivera in a show of dominance, the socket where her missing eye used to be bulging with her efforts. "Who do you think you are, barging in here like this? I'm packleader here! Not you!"

"You forget your place!" Rivera snaps. "You take the pack on raids without going through me first? I have an equilibrium to maintain, Sonoma! Those HSM bigots had friends in the service and now they're baying for your blood! It's bad enough that you botched the breakout so badly I had to kill my own men and women who were pursuing you. Do you think that was easy to cover up?"

"Your own men and women?" Sonoma asks incredulously. "They're humans, Rivera! Don't forget which side you're on!"

"Consider this a warning." Rivera says, her bright yellow eyes flashing with anger. "You've attracted a great deal of attention. I have special-agent spooks breathing down my neck over why I've failed to contain you already. This won't end well for either of us if you persist in acting impulsively." She turns and stalks out of the chambers without another word.

Sonoma calls one of her bodyguards over to her. "Make sure that the good general leaves the camp the way she came. I won't have her lingering." The wolf nods and slips out the door to follow Rivera.

Next