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I tried to get back to my roots. I really did. So, 6th part to my story.

Lone Wolf - Part 6

The lone wolf strode under the tall trees, letting the soft snow drift onto him and die on his fur. These recent events had left him crushed on the inside, but determined on the outside. He needed to be strong now, he thought to himself. He needed to survive.

The small satchel on his side was doing nothing to slow him down. No, he kept his solemn pace, only staring in one direction. He had nothing going for him, he knew that, but he had something to go for. And that was enough to keep him moving.

His teeth barred slowly. Thoughts of how events were exploding enraged him. The crunch of the snow sounded like the crashing of his life to him. Anything and everything that could have gone wrong did.

The worst part of it was, there was no "good guy". Laren was a bitch, looking for anyone she could find to unleash her pent up anger. Agra, the leader of the cliff-fanged pack, was just the same. Two tyrants were sure to face off, but only one could win. The worried Felan contemplated who would be the better victor.

Agra would surely terrorize the Red pack, but of course, Laren would do the same to the Cliff -Fanged. There was no good in any of this.

And Felan had no one to fall back on. Nilu was probably being severely punished somewhere, he was hated by both packs, and Laren probably just didn't want to see him again. So now, and for once and all, was truly the lone wolf.

It was midday, or around that time. Felan was silent, solemn, tracking the messenger's origin. He was obviously from the Red pack. That was a given. But where was he coming from to end up way out in the woods? Felan was sure something was up.

Soon, he came upon a small clearing. Beams of light were desperately trying to bust through the tops of the trees, but most were failing. Though in the pail light, Felan saw something. A dead insurgent: one of Agra's hunters. Just as Felan had thought, this was no accidental arrow. This was an attack.

Quietly thinking, he realized what had happened. Agra knew the messenger was coming... Agra wanted blood...

Shoving his submissive side into a deep crevice of his heart, he swelled with dominance. Well, what little dominance he had. But he needed it to stay alive. He needed control of the situation. As he turned and continued walking, he continued to fill with anger and a small bit of dominance.

This increased his pace. Bursts of adrenaline and rage pulsed in his icy veins. Barred teeth, the wolf's speed picked up to a jogging pace. Then soon to a running speed. And very soon, he was sprinting through the quiet forest. The release felt amazing.

Dashing through the trees, Felan felt the feral wolf flow through him. It was free. It was strong. It was deranged. In the deepest part of his mind, the hollow, angry Felan burst out. He could feel his kindness, happiness, and even his love getting tucked away.

Laughing. He began laughing. An insane, bestial part of him was breaking its chains. Through clenched teeth, he growled, a loud, angry, hysterical growl as he laughed. He slashed at the trees that he rushed by, and was bleeding under his claws.

Spasms began all over his body. Uncontrollable thrusts of his arms made them flail. His head twitched in any direction it could. Soon, his legs joined in the madness. He began slamming into trees, bashing his muzzle. He was bleeding, having spasms, and laughing as he growled. He was delirious. He had gone feral. He had gone mad.

A break in the trees appeared in the distance. Felan stopped, and starred. His spasms were worse, and he was foaming at the mouth. But the reason he stopped - he had seen another wolf. In a delusional rage, he let out a shrill shout of pain, and charged at the wolf.

The only thing he thought right now, was how revenge tasted. Pushed and crushed his whole miserable life, it was his turn to have control. Bashing into another tree, he shouted again. The pain felt...good. It kept his adrenaline pumping.

Lira was walking along the dirt path. She had slipped out of the Cliff-Fanged village just before dawn, and now walked alone. Lost in her own thoughts and worries, a tear came to her eye. She was scared; what would become of her? She was sure her pack would take her in. But she was also sure that there was blood coming. She couldn't watch a brawl, much less take place in one.

And what of Felan? She had actually come to care for the childish wolf. Where was he? He couldn't survive on his own...

At a sudden shriek, she was pulled out of her trance. In the woods stood a dark figure, covered by the shade of the trees. It was shaking, flailing its arms and twitching its head. But the weird part was that it just stood there. She squinted to get a better look.

But it charged. It dashed through the trees, bashing into one and screaming. It was bloody, and foaming at the mouth as it resumed its charge. Lira screamed in terror as it flew towards her. She turned to run, but it was upon her much too fast. It pinned her to the cold ground and knocked the wind out of her.

With a shriek, she exclaimed, "Please don't hurt me!" Tears of hear gushed down her face as the figure pushed her further down.

A sharp pain sliced down her back. She screamed, but it did nothing for her. With clouded vision, she saw blood run onto the snow from her back. Turning over her shoulder completely, she saw the figure with blood on his paw.

The enraged figure flipped her over and slammed her on her bloody, shredded back. She threw another scream of pain. But her assailant did not care. With its bloody paw, it slashed her muzzle. She could taste blood now.

With a growl, the figure sliced her again, this time on her stomach. The last of her energy poured into one final scream. "Please...please stop..." she begged through the blood in her muzzle. It had no effect.

Another rippling pain shot up through her. The figure had torn at her breasts. Blood poured from her nipple. But she had no more energy in her to scream, no more energy to plead with the attacker. She just laid there and choked on her blood.

She could see nothing. Blood had gotten in her eyes and blinded her. But she could feel. She felt the attacker grip her neck and choke her. She gagged and grabbed the attackers arm weakly, but was slashed again. So her arms dropped, and she just gagged and twitched. She couldn't breathe. Her limbs were numb. Things were fading, and everything was getting so cold. A few more seconds of being choked, and she faded into the encumbering darkness that had taken hold.

Felan, blinded by fury, stood, staring at the body. His consciousness was taking hold as the blood dripped down his stained paws. His mind, clearing once again, was filled with questions.

Who had he just murdered?

Why did he do it?

What led to this?

He was sick to his stomach. His vision was still blurry, but his mind was a clear fit of grief and remorse. He hadn't meant to do it. It just...happened. He'd never purposely hurt someone. He'd been hurt too much. But...

His vision cleared. Through the tears and blood, he began making out the sprawled, bloody figure that he had brutally murdered. He was having a hard time, but soon...he saw the face. A wail of grief shocked all of the birds from their resting places as Felan threw himself into another fit on insanity.

Agra was the first to land on the fresh snow. The morning was fleeing fast, being chased into hiding by the midday sun. Agra knew that the middle of the day was a bad time to make a move like this. Stealth was best used at night. But that was exactly what he was relying on. Who would expect a sneak attack underneath the noon sun?

One after one, his scouts landed behind him. Galin, his beta, was the first of them. Falling next to Agra, he had a simple question on his mind. "What's the plan?"

A smirk and a stance, Agra turned to his scouts, the last of which were just feeling the untouched snow. "The prize! Accalia, the damned priestess of the Red pack. Those fools will never see us coming," he spoke to them with confidence. "Hear me now when I tell you we shall eat well tonight! But first, the plan. It is noon. Just as our priestess, Accalia will be in her hut, preparing for tonight. Galin," he said, turning to him, "You wanted the plan? Well here it is. We go in. Take her. Get out. Simple enough I think."

All of the scouts stood stiff and ready.

"Now, I'm sure we all want to get this moving," Agra continued. "The village is to the North. Her hut is just outside of it. Follow me, lets go."

The black wolf darted up a tree, and waited for his pack of scouts to do the same. A small bit of snow fell from their climbing, but skill prevailed with them, and no more fell once they were in the trees. Instead, the forest was quiet once again. Snow fell from thin clouds above, and birds were still settled, and a hushed, eerie feeling fell upon the trees.

A rustle of leaves. Another small bit of falling snow. The scouts were off. They began flying through the trees, darting from limb from limb. Their leader took the fore, rarely missing a step. This skilled group of hunters followed in perfect harmony.

Agra's balance was off though. He dashed through the trees, but could not keep a good stance at all, and he slid off a desired branch more than once.

His hunters began whispering amongst themselves as they ran. What was wrong with their leader?

Accalia was in her hut, alone. The morning had gone quite well; She spent some time with her love, and had a good breakfast too. So she was very happy.

The smell of vanilla incense filled her small hut with an lifting odor that Accalia found to be very relaxing. She was sitting at a small wooden table; nothing fancy, but it held much of her face paint and headwear. But she was the least concerned with the festival right now. For in her hand was a small, worn piece of parchment that was given to her when she was only a pup. This parchment meant the world to her.

She had it open, and was looking down at the scribbled letters. A smile on her face, she reread what she had seen a thousand times over. It always brought her joy.

It read:

Deer Acallia, Thank you for pulli helping mee up. I was gunna dye. You saved my life. Im gunna luv you for evur. Luv Laren.

It was the sweetest thing ever to her, and it always brought a smile to her face.

Placing the tiny, dear note down on the table, she stood and walked over to her bed. In the corner next to it, a small, wooden table stood. An indent at its top was filled to the brim with crystal clear water.

Looking over the small reflection pool, she brushed out a few knots in her fur with her claws. Some were pretty bad, considering the interesting night before. And others were just in bad places, but eventually her fur was perfect again.

She smiled again. How her day been going so well in such turmoil around her, she did not know. But it did, and she could do no more than smile.

An abrupt knock on her door startled the wolf. She had not been expecting anyone. Though, it was probably Laren coming to check on her. Her heart soared. Rushing over to her small door, she was ready for an embrace.

"Hey!" she said happily as she opened the door.

Her smile was gone.

Agra and his hunters stood to greet her. Agra himself was the one who knocked. Without giving her time to even scream, he picked her up and hurled her at the small table with the note.

"Good priestess Acallia, you'll be joining us for dinner tonight. Won't that be fun?" he smiled. She was wiping blood from her lips, and before she could respond, he picked her up and slapped her. "Now you wont start any trouble, I'm sure. You're better than that," His polite sarcasm was deviant. "But for a small bit of incentive..." He trailed off as he pulled out a blow dart. He examined the tip, dripping its clear venom, and stuck it in her neck. She faded in less than a few moments.

Agra turned back to his scouts. "See, now didn't I tell you this would be simple?"

He got subservient nods of approval.

"Good. Now Galin, put the note on the table and lets go. I'm getting hungry, and you're meat."

Terrified, the beta threw the note on the table and quickly joined the other scouts. "Well, now that that's done, lets get moving."

Laren was sure things would get better. Accalia was right; things would surely smooth over. The decorations were up, and the village seemed a bit happier. She smiled as her pack was busy doing their everyday business, some even with smiles also.

With things settled, she decided to check on her lover. Surely Accalia would be done with her small preparations.

Laren walked on the short snowy path to Accalia's house with an excited smile on her face. She wanted to tell Accalia thank you for everything. That wolf was the world to her.

Coming up to her hut, Laren noticed that the door was swung wide open. Worried, she rushed into the hut. Accalia was nowhere to be seen. Laren's stomach twisted.

There was a small blood splotch on the floor by her table, and the table itself was a mess. Laren dashed to the table and bent down. Accalia had been bleeding. Standing back up, she noticed two pieces of paper. She grabbed on and read it aloud. It was a harshly scrawled randsom not.

Laren burst into tears. They had taken her loved one, her everything. Leaning on the table, she tried to restrain herself, but the tears kept flowing like rivers of pain. What would she do? They wanted her to meet them at a place called rough cliff tomorrow at noon. But she couldn't just give away her land... But Accalia. What if they hurt her? Laren was so devastated.

When she put the awful note down, she saw another piece of folded parchment. With a trembling paw, she picked it up and opened it.

...it was her note. Fresh tears whipped her face in agony. Her love for Accalia would never fade. It never did. It would never now. But the tears did not stop.

Felan ran. He ran. That's all he did. He ran. He screamed. He twitched and spazzed. The only thing he could see was red. Someone would have to pay. That wasn't his fault. It wasn't! No, it was someone else's fault. And they would pay.

He held the bow in his shaking hand, and an arrow in the other. He would find someone to pay. Somewhere to dump the awful blame.

Another shriek. He was in terrible pain. After the incident, he had torn at himself. Huge gashes ran down his side, and his muzzle was drenched with blood. His fur had gone from grey to crimson.

Smack! He slashed at his muzzle again. Bloody fury consumed his senses, with blood being all he saw, smelled, and tasted. Even his tears were diluted with crimson, leaving red trails down his face.

The bloody wolf stared out into the woods. "I'll KILL YOU!" he shouted at no one, followed by a wail of agony and grief.

It was too much to bear. The lone wolf collapsed to a shaking, bloody pile of remorse and hate. The blood pooled out from his wounds, and he did nothing to stop it. All he did was shake and cry. The pain...the pain was too much.

The sun was setting. Agra and his scouts had successfully made it home with the priestess, and were feasting. It was a party! The dancers were shaking around the fire, and the pack was having one of the biggest meals of the year. Alni was out of sight, dressing in her ceremonial headdresses and robes.

Agra, however, was at the head of the feast, sitting atop a wooden chair. He paid no mind to the feast, though. Instead, he was looking at a building in the far corner of the village. A hut with no decorations, no festivities, only two hunters outside the door. He nodded to them, and received a curt nod in return.

But inside that beaten hut, was a worse beaten wolf.

Accalia cringed in the darkness. She could hear the noises of joy from outside, but she was in here, the dank cell. She wished she could be with her pack, leading the celebrations. She prayed to the great goddess that she could find a way to rejoin her lover.

But she feared that her prayers were not to be answered, and her wishes not to be granted. Even still, she held hope in her heart, that at the end of her days she would be back in Laren's arms. Even if it was only for a moment, she would give the world for that.

Tears, like the tears of many others who were suffering on this great night, flowed freely down her bloody muzzle. Her sobs filled the void in her heart with the painful grieving they embodied. She was scared, lonely, and cold. If there was any way to get out, she would take it. But there wasn't. She was trapped in a small, cold hut, in an even smaller wooden cage. And she hadn't the energy to break either of them.

What could the goddesses plan be? Why was this all happening? None of it made any sense! She had done every ritual perfect, made every offering she was supposed to... But it wasn't enough for peace...

Her sobs grew louder. These thoughts burned a hole in her. She had no explanation. No reasoning. It was just violence. The apocalypse of the two tribes, she began to reason.

There was one way to figure out. In the wood, she found a small dry corner. An extended claw from her forefinger pressed against her wrist. She hated this ritual. It was painful and gruesome. But it was all she had.

She sliced her wrist, and blood came gushing out. A small yelp of pain, followed by a few whimpers filled the silence with something new.

She let the blood run down her paw, suppressing her tears, and looking away. She would not look until the blood was dripping from her. The divine one would do her work.

In the pain, she felt the warm blood begin to fall from her paw. Drippings echoed through her tiny cage. She could now look down.

When she did, she paid attention to her bleeding wrist, gripping it to stop the bleeding. Now, both of her paws were drenched in blood. And the blood hardly stopped. This ritual required some sort of gauss or bandage to stop the bleeding, but she had no such thing. This would have to do.

Turning from her wound, she looked down at the blood splotches. They glowed in the small light that was fading through the cracks in the ceiling of the hut. Spread wide, they read something... foretold something. Accalia cringed as though she had been touched by fire.

Agra watched the dancers. They were putting on a very good show. One in particular was very...bouncy. He would see her in private after the show. For now though, he was a figurehead. He needed to be amongst his tribe.

They needed the morale boost anyways. Everyone saw trouble ahead. He knew that. So they needed a spirit lifter. A party couldn't hurt, and to have a leader just made things that much better. He wondered how the Red pack was doing without their priestess. Surely they were suffering. In twisted rapture, Agra smirked and clapped for the dancers.

The entirety of the Red pack, minus Laren and Lira, sat solemnly around the fire. A boiling feeling of anxiety could be tasted in the meat, and smelled in the smoke. They had not seen their alpha for hours; no one knew where she was. But they had received the news. Their priestess was stolen by the bastard Cliff-Fanged pack. There would be no festivities, no joy tonight. No, instead this glorious night would be spent in silence, each wolf wondering what was next. Mothers held their pups tight, hunters gripped their spears, and the rest just stared down at their meat.

The whole appetite of the pack had faded. Even the cook was not eating, and he hated wasting the precious meat. But how could anyone eat, knowing that they may never see their priestess again? It was an awful though. Accalia was one of the nicest wolves any of them knew. She even kept Laren a bit nicer, which was a huge weight that was lifted. But now it was just Laren and Zen, and the two were bickering more and more. The pack loved their priestess to death, and that's were their love would go with her. They didn't know if she would make it back. And, despite the prayers to the great wolf, it was to remain that way.

A cracking sound bellowed through the village. All of the wolves snapped from their delirium and turned to the sudden noise. Zen, who was the only figurehead at the feast, was shocked to the point of dropping his meat.

Laren had busted her hut's door down. The shattered plank of wood was thrust from its place and out into the snowy night. Laren, who was standing in the doorway, was in tears. She had bashed her hut, as seen by the last candle aflame in it. She was a shadow in the dim light, an empty figure of solace.

Stumbling out, she let out a small yelp. She had hurt herself in her rage. It was not apparent if it was on purpose or not, but she had some scratches on her face and sides. Bloody paw prints were left where she stood.

Zen stood and rushed to her side. "Laren, are you alright?" he asked submissively.

She growled a deep, long growl. "Am...am I alright..." she repeated. Zen gave her a strange look. And she did nothing.

A touch of Zen's paw to her shoulder set her off. She slashed at his muzzle. "Why in the name of the goddess would I be alright?!"

Zen collapsed to the ground, partially from the hit, but mostly from fear.

"What would make any of you think that?!" she screamed at her pack. "No, I'm not alright! It's insulting that you would think that!" she yelled, sobbing. "Do I look alright?!"

The pack was terrified. She was in a fit of rage, and was getting violent. She walked up to the pack and continued screaming.

"He's gone too far! We don't have Accalia... And you would think that I am alright?!"

A scout came rushing in at this point. "Laren!" he shouted.

"What the fuck do you want?" she screamed.

"Ma'am, we found...something..." he said. He seemed...nervous. The whole pack watched as two more scouts followed, spears in hand. They were dragging something out of the shadows.

As the approached the fire, the whole pack was taken aback. Mothers covered their pup's eyes from the horrific seen.

"That's...that's Lira..." Laren said, stumbling to the corpse. She knelt down to the dead wolf. Lira had been slashed and beaten, and then choked as her final demise. She picked up the corpse, and brought it close to her, the horrific sight being illuminated by the indifferent fire.

Tears pouring from her, Laren looked to the sky, and shouted, "AGRA!!!"

Cold...So cold...So angry. Felan shook violently underneath the clear night sky. The stars mocked him, sparkling as though everything was fine. He wanted to take them all and make them disappear. Even the moon, a huge, almost full orb of light, seemed to mock him with its stare.

He was losing feeling to his lips. He was freezing in the harsh weather, and would hardly survive the night. But if he did...he knew exactly what he would do...

Agra laid in Alni's bed with her. He and the other dancer he set his sights on had sex as planned, but that did nothing to take his mind of things.

Alni was already in a comfortable sleep. It was around midnight, and it was a long night with the festival. She herself had done much for the pack. But Agra couldn't sleep. He had a lot to confess. But who could he tell? There was no one to dump these harsh realities on. And in the dark, Agra resolved to do something he had not done since he was but a pup.

So standing, and being careful not to wake the snoozing priestess, he slid out of her hut, into the silent night.

No wind blew to him, no snow covered him. It was pure and quiet, still and solemn. The black wolf bowed his head, and closed the hut door. In a silent haze, Agra walked into the forest near his village. He knew a place, a place he used to go to as a pup, with his best friend. A grotto, where the moon always shone upon, and there were always flowers.

It was just north of town, and not hard to spot. Agra strode into the center of the grotto, head bowed, and tail tucked in.

In the sight of the moon, the strong wolf fell to his knees, and began to speak.

"Great wolf goddess...I...I need help. Dammit, I need help. Agra...that's not even my damn name. It's Nevi. I was just named that because I'm so aggressive. I don't mean to be...but I need to be strong. I need to push myself." He looked up at the moon.

"It's been a long time...since I felt I actually had a heart. I miss the feeling. Laren used to be my best friend. We would come here all the time," he told the goddess, whom he prayed was listening. "We were the best duet ever...but we grew older, and the packs separated us. I...I loved her. I cant believe I'm admitting it...but I loved her. She was my everything. And then we were separated... How did this all happen? Why? What is your plan?"

He bowed his head again, and flattened his ears. His tone grew grim. "I...I've grown into something cold. We both have. Why? I miss feeling love, not lust. I miss feeling happiness, not anger. I miss my heart. Please great goddess, if you are listening, I beg of you...I need a sign. Anything to just tell me that it'll be alright..."

Facing the sky, he saw a tiny cloud. No more than a sliver of a cloud. But it was just floating there, next to the moon. And he watched as it dropped one, tiny, unique snowflake down.

The flake, unguided by any wind, fluttered down to him. It landed on his nose, and melted instantly. And the cloud evaporated too soon to drop another.

Tears running down his face, the strong, invincible wolf collapse into the venerable wolf he always was. Nevi cried. For once in his life, he cried.

The sun rose above the mountains, setting aflame the sadness and hate that persisted through the night. Laren, who had gotten no sleep, was already around the doused fire, waiting for her hunters to get ready. She had woken them up early, and had planned to be moving before the midday sun. She was going to get Accalia back, no matter what.

She sat, staring at the embers. She could relate to them - dying, cold, alone. If only she could go back in time, she would. How did any of this happen? What started it?

Deep in thought, she realized that the spark of this flame was that small wolf that no one gave a damn about. Felan - the poor guy - had been the igniting factor. If she were nicer to him, this wouldn't have happened. But she wasn't. Even now, she knew she probably wouldn't be.

Staring deeper into the embers, she found that she didn't have feelings anymore. She used to be this loving wolf, who cared for everyone and everything. But now, she only cared about Accalia. Sure she cared about her pack. But where was her reasoning for that? Was it selfish? A want for control and nothing more?

Another freezing tear appeared in her eye. She wiped it away as fast as she could, but another sprawled down from her other eye. She sniffled, but it didn't help.

"Laren, we're ready," the lead hunter said quietly, making sure not to touch her. Zen was a lesson not to be taken lightly.

"Alright..." she said, "Lets get moving."

Nevi woke in Alni's hut. Was it a dream? Was the snowflake just a fading hope?

"You passed out in the grotto. You almost froze, you know," she said with a smile.

It was real. Nevi smiled a sincere, happy smile. But it was wiped. "Alni, what time is it?" he asked.

"I'd say half morn. Why?" she asked, sitting next to him.

"I have that priestess to barter with today," he said, sitting up next to her.

"You know," she said, rubbing his shoulders, "I heard you in the grotto. You woke me up when you left." Nevi looked away. "It was nice...to see that deep inside that shell we all see, you're still alive."

He was silent for a moment. "Alni, I need to be strong. I can't change. Not anymore. It's too late."

"It's never too late to have a heart," she whispered.

He stood. "It is for me. Now I need to get going. I'll see you tonight," he said as he rushed out the door. Alni watched him, and when he was gone, sighed and bowed her head.

Nevi was surprised to see his hunters waiting for him at the fire with their captive. She was bound and gagged, but not blindfolded. He walked up to her and looked her in her green eyes. The spoke to him, pierced him. And in her silence, she whispered things with her eyes. Things of remorse and hate, yet of understanding and pity.

But he shut that out. He needed to be Agra, not Nevi. For the sake of his pack, he needed to be Agra.

"Let's get moving..." he said to his hunters.

Felan was in tears. He had survived the night. He did not want to survive the night. He wanted to just wither and die in the cold forest. But he was alive.

He stumbled through the trees that bordered Rough Cliff in a haze. He pondered jumping. It would make everything less painful...less agonizing. But he just kept walking

The sun was reaching its midday point as he came upon a clearing. His twitching had simmered down, but his sanity had gone completely. All he was left with were empty feelings of rage and remorse.

Voices came from the distance. He was unsure if they were real or not, but he kept a keen eye. The deranged, foaming wolf squinted into the dark forest, his teeth barred.

Out of the forest came Agra. Felan flared. He was ready to charge the wolf and end his life, or die trying.

But then, a group of five or so hunters followed him out, so Felan held his ground behind a tree. And through his sad eyes, he saw Accalia, the priestess, battered and bound. She was the prisoner of Agra now, not him.

Laren looked up when she heard voices. She had been there for no longer than an hour or so.

Agra appeared atop the tall cliff, her loved one by his side.

"Agra!" she shouted, "Give her back! Now!"

"Now now," he said, "Is that any way to talk to a hostage holder? I don't think so." He smirked.

"What do you want?" she yelled weakly.

"Your land. Just leave the land, and you can have her," he shook Accalia.

Agra's vigorousness slid Accalia's gag clean off. "Laren!" she shouted to her forlorn lover, "You need to leave! Go! Please!"

"You may want to listen to her," Agra remarked. She spat at him.

"Listen to me!" she yelled. "Our pack can find a new home! Please, for their sake, leave!"

"No, Never! We've held this land since the time of the ancients! It is ours!" she replied with a weak hint of anger.

Agra laughed. "Just give it up. It's your choice. Think about it!"

Conflicted, Lauren cringed. She let out a cry of frustration, and burst into tears. There was no perfect answer to this...

Moments of silence passed by, and things grew ever tenser. On both side, the hunters looked at each other nervously.

"No..." she eventually said, "NO! This is our land!!"

All were silent.