Into the Woods

When Lowell got out of his car, he was immediately hit by the pungent smell of blood. An ordinary werewolf wouldn't smell such a scent, but it was different for Lowell. He always prided himself on his keen sense of smell. No matter how faint the scent of blood was, he could always smell it.

Lowell sniffed the air and walked after the source. He left his car parked on the side of an empty and deserted highway. His steps stopped at the edge of a steep slope, on one side of the road. He stood watching the trees below.

"What are you looking for?" Fenella appeared at his side. "Why did you suddenly stop here?"

"You don't smell blood?"

Fenella raised her eyebrows. "No, I don't. Do you smell blood?"

"Yes." Lowell moved on, looking for a way down the slope. The scent of blood was clearly coming from down there. He had a hunch that finding the source of the scent was important. He broke off a branch and used it as a stick to help him walk down the slope.

"Lowell, are you really going down there?" exclaimed Fenella.

"Do I need to answer that?"

"I'm coming!" Fenella urged. "But I have to get my bag from the car first."

Lowell waited at the bottom of the slope until Fenella arrived with a large bag slung over her shoulder. The bag, as far as Lowell knew, was always carried by Fenella. Then he resumed his steps. Now all his senses were heightened. He could smell every scent and hear sounds a mile away. All that information was flooding in and forming mental images in his brain.

Fenella walked behind him with shuffling steps. "Lowell, what exactly are we looking for here?"

"Be quiet," Lowell replied. "Stay behind me and keep quiet. I'm concentrating." Lowell continued to walk further and further into the forest. Now the scent was getting sharper and the source was getting closer.

"I smell it now." Fenella sniffed the air. "From that tree, isn't it?" She pointed.

Lowell had already seen it before Fenella pointed to a human head hanging low on the branch of a tree. It was the head of a blonde woman, not long dead and hanging there, as thick blood dripped and pooled on the ground below.

"A fantastic sight," Fenella quipped. "Who the hell is this woman?"

Lowell examined the head. The woman's eyes were wide open, still showing surprise. Her blonde hair, perhaps shoulder-length, clung blood-soaked to either side of her head. It wasn't a shocking sight, nor was it anything new. Lowell had seen this before and knew who did it.

"Fenella, go back to the car and make some sort of sign for the rest of our pack to follow," he ordered. "We'll walk from here."

"Why, it's just a head, where are we going?"

Lowell didn't like his orders being questioned, but he was usually more patient with Fenella. "This head is a code from Boris," he explained. "It was left here to tell us which way to go. It has been following Luke and the half-breed."

"You can tell all that from a severed head?"

"I've known Boris for a long time. I know how he operates. Do you see where this head is going? Look at the eyes. To the south, right? We'll walk in that direction. If we hurry, we can catch up with Boris soon."

"But why did Luke choose to flee to the forest?"

"He grew up in a forest like this. That's more or less where he came from. I guess he thought he'd have the upper hand over us because he's better versed in the terrain."

Fenella grinned amusedly. "Oh, but he doesn't know that Boris is a genius tracker."

"Right," Lowell said. But he frowned. "The thing is, why would he bring Willow into the woods like this. I guess, if he was taking Willow to her father, that means Elliot was hiding somewhere in the wilderness all this time."

"Yes. I guess so."

"I don't understand. Why would Elliot give up his position as alpha just to rot in the forest? That doesn't make sense."

"Probably because he's just a stupid, cowardly old man. He's probably afraid of you usurping your position."

"Don't be stupid, Fenella. Elliot has no reason to fear me. He's very influential. His pack still supports him today. If I had fought him back then, I would have died because I didn't have the support to overthrow him. I smell something strange, Fenella. I don't know what he's planning."

***

Luke was bandaging his own wound. He sat on a tree trunk across the ground, groaning as the bandage hurt his wound. Willow stood some distance away, pacing back and forth in displeasure at the moans of pain. She didn't know what to do. Helping people heal had never been her thing. The campfire in front of them burned, enough to light the place but not enough to warm it.

"Willow," Luke called after her. "Can you help me?"

Willow turned her head but her gaze passed over Luke's shoulder, as she was horrified at the seepage of blood on the bandage. "What should I do?"

"Come closer," Luke said. "I'll tell you."

Willow approached Luke hesitantly. Apparently Luke had finished dressing the wound, he handed Willow two small straight branches. "Take these."

"What for?" asked Willow confused. She didn't immediately take the two branches.

"I broke my leg. I need to borrow your hand for a moment. If this isn't taken care of soon, my leg won't heal."

Willow widened her eyes in horror, and quickly took the two branches from Luke's hands. "So, what should I do?" she asked. "You have to tell me the right thing so I can do the right thing."

"Okay," Luke said. He winced as he tried to straighten his leg. The bandages and gauze wrapped around his leg were stained with blood, but it seemed to have stopped bleeding. "Now, please stick the two branches on either side of my calf."

Willow did so. She winced and was about to remove them from Luke's legs when he groaned with pain. "Oh, sorry. Did I press too hard?"

"No, it has to be tight. Even tighter. Press hard, I'll be fine."

Willow pressed harder. "Like that?" she asked.

"Yes, like that." Luke reached for the roll of bandages in his lap and began to wrap them around the calf and the two limbs, making a makeshift splint of sorts. Suddenly, Luke pointed to Willow's neck. "Nice necklace," he said. "Is that from someone?"

"This?" Willow touched her necklace, a thin gold chain with a ruby gemstone. "Oh, it was a gift from my grandmother."

"Your grandmother? I thought it was a gift from your boyfriend, because the pendant is in the shape of a heart."

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"You do?"

"Yes. Do you have a werewolf girlfriend, Luke?"

"I don't."

"Then a regular human girlfriend?"

"No."

"Why? You don't seem awkward with girls, you must have some dating experience."

Luke laughed. "Having experience and having a girlfriend are different, Willow. It's not like I've never dated. But I don't have a girlfriend right now."

Willow nodded, not knowing what else to say, as she herself was confused as to why their conversation had turned to that topic.

Meanwhile Luke had finished splinting her leg and tied the bandage tightly. "Thanks, Willow," he said.

"Sure. No problem." Willow removed her hand from Luke's leg and stepped back.

"Are you hungry?" asked Luke as he looked at Willow. "You haven't had a chance to eat yet. The fish is cooked if you want it."

Willow's appetite had disappeared with Luke's fight with the bear. So she shook her head. "No, thank you. I'm not hungry?"

"Really?" Luke raised one eyebrow. "But you need to fill your stomach."

"Yeah. I'm not hungry." Willow shook her head. "Now what do we do? Is the bear coming back?"

Luke shook his head. "Don't worry. It's already gone. But we also need to get out of here and move on."

Willow frowned. "You're going to have trouble walking with your legs like that. Shouldn't we head back to the highway and hitch a ride?"

Luke looked at Willow for a moment, then laughed. "You're not really suggesting that, are you?"

"I meant it," she replied somewhat offended.

The man shook his head. "We can't go back to the highway, because our enemies are right behind us and...." Luke sighed. "The direction we're going is not accessible by vehicle."

"Still your legs...."

"I can still walk. Don't worry about me."

"I didn't say I was worried about you." Willow sat on the trunk of another fallen tree. She sighed as she looked around. The forest suddenly didn't seem so scary anymore. So they should go in there? Okay.

She stole a glance at Luke who was eating his grilled fish. He realized that Luke had saved his life, and he should be grateful. However, there was still a slight suspicion of the man. He suddenly appeared and claimed to be his father's friend. Even if he was, that didn't make him free from other motives, like Lowell. Willow wouldn't have been so confused if it wasn't for the fact that she now felt comfortable around him. It made her angry with herself. Feeling careless and unwary.

***

After finishing his meal, Luka tried to stand up, but it was becoming difficult for him now. Willow approached him and extended her hand to help him stand up. At first, Luke just stared at the hand, but eventually he accepted Willow's help and stood on his one uninjured leg.

"You can't possibly walk that way," Willow commented. "Wait a minute." Willow glanced around and her eyes fell on what she was looking for. A tree branch was lying not far from the tent. It was shaped a bit like a fork with only two branches. It was also the right size and length to be used as a stick. He grabbed it and handed it to Luke. "Use this."

Luke was stunned and accepted the makeshift stick. He held it like a crutch with his left arm fitting between the two branches. He put his weight on it to test it and walked around the clearing slowly until he was satisfied.

"How was it?" asked Willow.

Luke smiled a little. "Very good. It helps me walk. Thank you."

"I thought we were supposed to clean up the tent before we left?"

"Yes. But I'm having a little trouble doing it because I can't bend over."

"I'll help you even though I've never put up or taken down a tent before," Willow said. "Just give me a hint."

Soon they managed to dismantle the tent together. They began packing up, making sure the fire was out and trampling the ashes so no embers were left behind, then shuffling the ground so it wouldn't look like anyone had ever been there.

"You seem to know a lot about the forest," Willow commented as everything was packed up and they prepared to leave. "You've been in the woods a lot?"

"Yes. I've been in the woods more than the city."

"Well, you're a strange man."

Luke grinned. "And you don't seem to have ever been camping, let alone in the woods."

Willow's face turned grim. "They never let me go camping or anything like that. I guess they're too overprotective. But in a way I can understand. They've lost my mom, their only daughter. I'm the only one left."

Luke nodded. "I understand."

"What about you?" Willow asked back. She was uncomfortable being reminded of her dead grandparents. "Tell me about yourself. I don't know anything about you, even though you saved my life three times."

"There's nothing interesting about my life story," Luke replied. "You already know I'm a werewolf."

"I'd at least like to know how old you are."

Luke shook his head. "You won't believe me if I tell you."

"Just tell me," Willow said. "If you're telling the truth."

"I'm forty-two."

Willow gaped. "Don't joke around, Luke. You're twenty-one, right?"

Luke smiled a small smile. "No, I'm not. I'm forty-two years old, Willow. I'm a werewolf, remember?"

***