Markus had tried to back away from the werewolves, in order to give him room to fight or run, but two of their largest had blocked his path. Suddenly feeling very outnumbered, he tensed, nearly jumping when he heard the werewolf in front of him growl. Thankfully, he didn't, and his pride remained intact for another day. However...he wasn't sure about that from the looks of the other werewolves...
Cursing as he was thrown to the center of the werewolf pack, he moved his hand to his shoulder, which had collided roughly with the floor. The pain was gone in seconds, but the jar was still there.
As his bright red eyes glared back at the werewolf girl, he refused to answer her question, but he struggled the whole way to the prisons. As he was being led to his cell, he caught sight of a young, dark-haired boy who only looked about ten. Alex. He was sitting on a metal bench that was probably his bed, his shoulder-length hair falling over his eyes. "Hey, Al-!" he got out, before one of the werewolves hit him on the side of the head. Still, Alex raised his head, just enough so that he could see top of Markus' head.
"Mark!" he shouted, getting to his feet and moving to the silver bars of the cell. He put a hand on one of them, before pulling it away as if it was on fire. Hissing through the pain, he watched as Markus was put into a cell, being thrown down onto his face.
"Let me out, dammit!" he shouted, jumping to his feet. He had heard stories about vampires who were caught by werewolves, how they woke up to have a tattoo on their wrists telling all who saw them that they belonged to the werewolves, and he absolutely did not want that to happen to him. Craning his neck, he tried to see if he could see a tattoo on Alex's wrist. He was too far away, and instead he focused his attention on the werewolves.
"Let. Me. Out. Now," he said firmly, tempted to try to reach through the bars to grab at one of them. He'd probably only get silver burns from the bars on his skin if he did that, so he decided that it wasn't a good idea.