Moon, Blood, and Wolf's Bane


Zack, slid one of his large arms around Grace, and pulled her onto his lap, as she showed the gun to him, and he looked it over with great detail. "Doubt there will be any that unwise to be scrambling across the field, Grace." Zack answered as he continued looking the gun over before Sara decided to try starting yet another fire.

"You hear that, Zack. Your girlfriend is going to be shooting WOLVES."

"And what if she does shoot a wolf?" Zack snapped back at Sara. "If they can't dodge a bullet then it's fair game." He knew better than anyone, that Grace was a damn good shot, and that the clan had no real reaon to be on her property... partly because of how good a shot she was, and due to the fact that Zack had claimed that property as his own, and to intrude would be an act of war to the Werewolf.

"God damnit, Zack, can I shoot her? How much is bail for murder?"

"No, hun... she's just trying to light a fire under people's asses like she always is."

"You shoot her, I'll shove this broken bottle so far down your throat that you'll have to shit it out. Jesus fuck, get the fucking shotty out of here, bitch."

Giving Natasha a simple look, Zack placed his other hand on Grace's leg, and rubbed it knowing full well that Grace would be about to respond to that, and he simply whispered into her ear. "Ignore her love... instead of bothering yourself with your rounds tonight, just get some sleep. You've seemed kinda tired lately. I'll go around instead... racked up plenty of overtime this week, so I'll just take a day off."
"They need to stop serving her alcohol." Grace muttered under her breath after watching Natasha storm out. Sara was the one she had a problem with, not Natasha. Though, seeing the girl flip out was pretty startling. Definitely shouldn't let her be drinking.

Shrugging it off, Grace turned her grin to Zack.

"As great as that sounds, it's kind of my job. Buuuut, if you want to swing on by later and spend the night with me, I wouldn't object too much."

The sound of Saraliya behind the bar making gagging sounds was almost too hard to ignore. The waitress had been momentarily stunned by her sister's out of character outburst, but was right back to eavesdropping on their conversation.
[bg=#000000]I'm just about to reply to the man's question when everything seems to happen at once.

The barman offers Zack some new sorta drink he's got in, just as some girlie with a shotgun comes striding into the bar, calm as day. I see my three guys react almost instantly; Marston's hand is already at the holster on his side, and Mongol's hand is resting on his machete. Kimmy just stares at the woman with her cold, deadpan eyes, waiting for her next action.

I snarl at the three of them to get them to calm down, and watch the girl move over to Zack and plant a kiss on his cheek. Zack pulls her onto his lap as one of the other mouth's in the bar starts flapping and an arguement kicks off.

About wolves.

Seems I've found them which I've been looking for.

"You locals always get along this well?" I chuckle as some big-eyed girlie goes charging out the door, "I mean, fuckin' seriously, this is like a soap opera or some shit like that." I look over at Zack and grin before motioning for the bartender. "I will have what he's having, however. I think I might've just met a man what can match me when it comes to the drink."[/bg]
Charlie lay on her back, her chest heaving frantically from fear and intense pain. Her mind was a panicked swirl of half-thoughts and semi-coherent plans of action. She opened her eyes slowly, her dilated pupils taking in the snatches of sky visible through the thick canopy. It was dark now, with the occasional pin prick of star or planet piercing the indigo, a faint orange glow was rapidly sinking on the very edge. It was quite a beautiful sight.

I don't want to die.

Charlie bit back a sob, causing her body to jerk painfully with the motion.

I don't want to die.

The girl rolled onto her belly, forcing her limbs underneath her once more, to continue crawling away.

I don't want to die. Idon'twanttodieIdon'twanttodie-

Something sharp and jagged pierced clean through her palm, causing Charlie's arm to give out on her. She collapsed face first on the wet forest floor, her body wracked with sobs.

Knowing that the chase was over, that the girl was done, the hunter calmly took aim with his rifle; knowing without seeing where her beating heart was, his finger whispered across the trigger.

A rifle shot broke the quiet of the forest, the roar pulsing in his eardrums even after the sound had died. The hunter's face remained impassive as the bullet whizzed by his head, missing by barely an inch.

"DROP YOUR WEAPON!" That was his one warning.

The hunter retreated further into the brush for cover as four men in ranger's uniforms pursued him.

The fifth ranger, the oldest, found Charlie in a bloody heap not far from where the hunter had been. "Charlie! Charlie, say something," Kingsley whispered harshly as he stooped next to her, taking aim with his rifle to provide back up for the others.

"Uuuugh . . ."

"That's good enough, hold on, we'll get you out of here soon."

It took Charlie a moment to register that she was still in fact alive, and that help had finally arrived. A new wave of dread suddenly washed over her.

"Wa. . ."She croaked, her throat raw from screaming, and her mind still muddled from pain and adrenaline. "Watch out . . .he's . . ."

"Shh, it's OK Charlie, we're here," Kingsley cut her off, mistaking her warning for shock.

But it was too late, Charlie's strength was spent. The girl's eyes drifted shut just as the gun shots began to sound.

Watch out, he's a monster.
Natasha wasn't making much progress, she was in the gosh darn field, SURROUNDED BY DUMB LIVESTOCK....

and she kept hiccuping.

Wolves can't hicccup. At least, she thought they couldn't. She didn't want to be hiccuping when she was trying to get a bite. She snarled in frustration, then hiccuped again. Dammit. She tried holding her breath but that was interrupted by a violently-loud hiccup. She had no water to try either of those dumb wives' tales. and there was no sugar either, for that spoonful of sugar bullshit. One of the beasts woke up and gave a plaintive "Moooooooooooooo", Natasha growled at it, then hiccuped again.

Could werewolves hiccup? She didn't KNOW. She kept trying to figure it out, but the hiccups were REALLY FUCKING DISTRACTING. She suddenly noticed that she had been breathing without interruption for a while and was about to- she hiccuped AGAIN.

TWO of these fucking piles of burgermeat were now awake and mooing, and she needed to get this over with before more of them woke up and moo'ed their heads off too. Natasha snarled again, which was taken down a notch when she hiccuped again. Hiccups are just not scary. They're just really fucking annoying. She grabbed the face of the nearest moobox and looked it straight in the eye. "I am going to fucking -Hic- MURDER Y-HIC-ou......" Real tough sounding. The cow moo'ed dumbly and tried to move its head out of Natasha's hands.

Suddenly something moved behind her, she scrambled away, hiding and looking back, only to find it was just a woken cow, who had probably been so disturbed by Natasha's behavior that it decided to move to a better spot. She tried to catch her breath, happy she hadn't heard a shotty go off. She waited a couple moments and then raised herself back up again. She moved to the nearest cow, and trembled slightly, getting hungrier, watching this beast in front of her. She then noticed, finally, that she wasn't hiccuping anymore and her eyes narrowed while she licked her lips.

For a moment, there was a horrendous snarling sound and a pained Mooooo that cut off in seconds. Then she started to drag off the body, not wanting to wait for that woman to come back to see her feasting on this..... or for Zack to get her. Oh, she knew full well that he wasn't going to be happy with her, but she only wanted one. The bitch had it coming. She would leave her alone after this.

With blood dripping down her white fur, and her topaz eyes darting around, she continued to drag the beast.

Just a little further and she could eat and fill her stomach....

Jason started to move to silence the apparently weenie drinker Natasha from getting herself plugged for being an idiot. He stuck up for he most of the time since she acted like such a doormat but this was ridiculous. A dryer didn't mean anything compared to starting a fight in the bar he was supposed to be tending! The others actually handled themselves quite well compared to how things could have gone down between a drunk Werewolf and a good shot like Grace. It was the kind of luck that the bartender wasn't going to go looking any gift-horse in the mouth over.

"Some people just can't hold their booze I guess. . ."

Bain sighed out before getting more of the Arrogant Bastard Ale which there wasn't a vast amount of behind the bar. If they kept drinking these bottles this fast it was going to get really interesting around the Howling Hippo. Hell they might even start to make hippo sounds when it got late enough. The stuff had a 7.2% alcohol volume which made it tougher than that yellow stuff served just about everywhere. Eventually the stuff would lay into them depending on just how much of a hard ass their bodies were compared to their psyches.

He briefly looked over at Saraliya and Grace with an apologetic eye considering he had given it to the girl. But he had never known Natasha couldn't even go toe to toe with the light sugary stuff. Anyone with sense could figure that her 'sympathy booze' card had just gotten revoked. Walking past Saraliya, he handed both Zack and Clay ice cold bottles of the Arrogant Bastard Ale. Sometimes one had to wonder if they needed the drinks since they were such hard drinkers. . . or they wanted to keep up an image.

Little did he know Natasha was starting up yet another mess somewhere else. . .

"As great as that sounds, it's kind of my job. Buuuut, if you want to swing on by later and spend the night with me, I wouldn't object too much."

Taking the glass, Jason put infront of him Zack took a drink from it, with the intent to savour the flavor this time, and to forget the little outburst that had almost prompted him to start making people begin chewing on the floor boards as he smashed their faces into the floor. "Grace sometimes I swear you work harder than me, but just take it easy tonight. Relax instead, and I swear I'll make it up to you tonight..." Zack said as he planted a kiss on her neck. "If you're taking off, then I'll be there in a bit. No later than nine, okay?"

"You locals always get along this well? I mean, fuckin' seriously, this is like a soap opera or some shit like that."

Turning to look back at Clay, the corner of Zack's lips curled up in a very weak grin "Better than most days... it's always somethin' or another around here... really tends to piss me off." He then washed his words down with another drink from his glass.

"You'd better keep a tight hold on your leashes, Sara... cause if it ain't your hand, that attitude your family's got is going to jump one fence to many. And I don't really want to bother Jason again with him having to fix the walls again... or hauling anyone's ass to the doc's again."

Alex sat down again as the woman with the shotgun came barging into the bar. He assumed she wasn't the friendly type and on top of that he was already getting nasty looks from the locals and that woman looked like the last person he wanted to piss off. Alex slunk back to listen to the argument that the woman had with Natasha. It was clear that Natasha hated the idea of hunting wolves, The bottle in Natasha's hands broke and a few more heated words were said before the girl charged out of the bar and left the rest of the patrons in a tizzy.

"I...uh think it's bad to shoot wolves...can't you like...put up a fence?" Alex said shyly, not knowing how the bar would react, "I mean, wolves aren't doing anything out of their nature ya know? It's not fair to shoot them just because they're just being wolves...." He waited for a reaction, or a gunshot, whichever came first.
By now, Marette felt truly miserable. She knew she was in for a roaring hangover tomorrow, but the words of the girl and the mess had finally sunk in and Marette stood, shakily, making her way to Grace and Zack. Grace stopped by once and a while at her shop, but never looking happily at the wolves carved with all the love in Marette's heart.

"Grace..." she was steeling herself, working not to sound as foolish as Natasha, she wanted to be listened to. "I don't mean to intrude on your conversation, there's been so much fuss already but if there are wolves on your property, maybe I could help you with some sort of fence? The wolves mean a lot to me, y'see. I don't want to get in your business, but it would about break my heart to see one dead just because it was poking around..." she shifted her feet, feeling woozy and ready to move to the door as soon as her plea was heard. Marette licked her lips, and tried to look, well, not a mess.
"Damn, how can you stay so damn calm?" Briggs asked Slater as they observed the multiple exchanges.

"I didn't feel it." Slater replied as he dug through a bowl of pretzels.

"Feel what?" Slater rubbed his leg before turning to his partner.

"There's a certain sense of dread or impending doom that heart attack victims feel whenever they suffer such an attack." the ex-Marine started, digging through a shirt pocket and producing a pack of Marlboro reds. "In the 'Stan we'd be walking on patrol and never see anything for the four hours we were out. On that final hour as we trudge back those of us who'd been in country long enough, seen more than a few friends get blown away, we'd get this feeling like the hairs on the back of our neck standing up." Slater lit the cigarette then took a long drag on the cancer stick, burning it halfway down.

"They can't train that sense for danger. You have to learn it. You also have to see a few friends get killed right in front of you too. "

"You didn't feel that, that sense? The Spidey-Sense?" Slater shook his head as he pulled more down on the cancer stick, bringing it down to the filter. He stubbed it out on his boot sole then took out another one. "Ya think ya can slow down on those?"

"Briggs, there are worse things that can kill me. Lung cancer is the least of my worries." he said as he lit up again then whistled out. "Hey, what's a grunt gotta do to get food 'round here? I'm damn tempted to go out back and slaughter the cow myself!"
Grace was just hopping out of Zack's lap just as that rhinestone cowboy had to pipe in to her business. And then never-failing, Marette who was clearly drunker than a alcoholic on payday. Hefting the strap of her gun over her shoulder, she was casting both of them a weary look. Trying to think of what she could say that wouldn't be offensive. Jack was trying to avoid a bar room brawl, after all, and she just wasn't in the mood.

"All in their nature up until the maul somebody's kid, eh? Go sleep off the booze, Marette. And you-" she pointed over at Alex, "mind your own business, Sparkles."

She squeezed Zack's arming, giving a lopsided grin. "I'll see you tonight." Then she was leaving the bar before anyone else decided to get chatty. Sure it was great living in those small quaint towns where everyone knew everyone, but hashing out those same tired old arguments every time someone tossed back a few beers got old real fast.

Saraliya was sneering at Zack even after Grace left. As if him protecting his fragile human girlfriend weren't bad enough, having a couple of the meatbags stand up defending wolves was laughable. Grace Colton had one thing right. Saraliya would love to chew on their bones and maul them to pieces.

"Whatsa matter, Zackie? Gettin' too hot for ya? What. Ever. You know Nat's about as dangerous as a fly." Rolling her eyes, Saraliya stepped away for a second, and sent a hand flying out until collided with the back of Jason's head. "THANKS A LOT. By the way. Look at the shit you just caused! I'm probably going to find the fuzzed up twat puking her guts up at home."

Meanwhile, Grace's trip home wasn't a long one. She had her pop's old beat up truck. Just as she was pulling in to the driveway, a couple of her cousins came running out of the house to greet her. The eldest boy was fawning over the new gun, while a couple of the little ones blabbered about wanting mac and cheese for dinner.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, Grace, hey, hey, hey! Are we gonna play Candyland tonight? Is Zack coming over? Can I shoot the gun?"

"No way, you're too young for the gun. Can -I- shoot it? We got an hour or so before sunset!"

Grace snatched the gun back from the teen. It wasn't loaded, but knowing these kids they'd still find a way to shoot themselves in the face and get her in trouble. "Cut that out, your parents would kill me. Everybody done their homework, right?"

An hour of making sure cousins were fed and entertained went by before Grace was able to untangled herself to get back to work. She had one of the rifles loaded and a flashlight in hand when she stepped outside to walk the grounds. The sky had beautiful orange hues where the sun was setting to the west. Casting soft, quiet shadows over the ranch where the trees and surrounding mountains were blocking out the last of the light.

Starting close to the house, she checked in on all the small animals. Chickens, pigs, goats. No tracks besides the scattered foot prints of her family and the Ranch staffers. Next she walked off to the horse stables. A few stomping hooves the only complaint about her intrusion. Each of the beasts bedded down for the night in their stalls.

Everything was all routine. By the time she headed out to the field where most of the cows were snoozing and having an evening meal, Grace didn't notice anything wrong at first. Her headcount was off by one, and thinking she miss-counted she did it three more times before she was concerned. Now she held up her rifle, stepping through the grass looking for tire tracks or footprints. Signs of thieves. What she found was definitely footprints, but not human. Wolf! Grace came across a patch of grass, bloodied from a struggle and then a path where the carcass must have been dragged.

A lot of 'told-you-sos' were running around in her head as she cocked the rifle and followed the drag path. Here was proof wolves didn't do anything but kill and eat! Grace stopped cold when the cow's body came in to view. There, still chowing down was a wolf, a huge wolf. Bigger than she had ever seen one! White fur stained red with blood. Grace didn't even give it a second shot as she aimed and fired.

The wolf went down with a strangled yelp! The body hitting the ground just a few paces away from the carcass from the force of the shot. Grace stood still for a moment, rifle aimed and ready, but when the critter didn't move she inched forward. The amount of blood everywhere had her stomach churning from the smell. An entire portion nearly the size of the wolf itself was missing from the cow. Obviously it had been gorging itself on the meat.

Grace cocked the rifle again, aiming at the wolf's head to make sure it was dead. But the moment of that click there was a sudden SNARL. Off the ground the wolf lept, tackling Grace to the ground! Her gun when swinging out of her hands, landing somewhere in the distance out of reach. As she was screaming, the wolf had her arm clamped down in it's jaw, growling and holding even while Grace struggled to get herself loose. Her other hand grasped at the dirt, flinging it up in to the wolf's face as she tried to kick it off her. Just as suddenly as it pounded, it released her arm. Whimpering in pain as it took off in to the trees with it's tail between it's legs.

For a moment, Grace lay there trying to catch her breath and flexing her fingers to make sure her arm was still attached. Nothing felt broken, but then wasn't feeling it yet either. Those teeth were so sharp they had cut through her skin and muscle like it was nothing.

But the feeling was starting to come back real fast. Hissing to herself, Grace struggled to her feet and headed back to the house as fast as she could walk. Her gun and flashlight left behind. When she stepped inside, there were a few startled squeals, that she quickly silence with a SHUSH and order to go upstairs.

"Holy shit, Gracie, what happened?!" asked one of the teens, looking white as sheet.

"Don't curse. An accident, watch the kids for me." Grace muttered through clenched teeth. She stopped at the kitchen skin, trying to rinse away as much of the blood as she could before snatching up a kitchen towel and wrapping her arm with it. "Don't let ANY one go outside, tonight."

Keys and a cellphone in hand, Grace trotted out to the truck. It was a pain in the ass trying to get on the phone and pulled out of the driveway, but she managed. She dialed the local doctor's house. "Margie, I am on my way to the clinic, is your husband in? Got myself a nice little bite..."

"Another one? Oh lords it's one of those nights! Honey, he's already at the clinic now waiting on a patient. Those rangers at the station called in about an accident with Charlie Morris, and it sounded awful. You go one and get yourself down there."

When Grace hung up the phone and continued on her way to the Raymond clinic, she was left wondering another one, what? Accident or wolf?

SUMMARY: Grace blows off both Alex and Marette as she leaves the Howling Hippo. She goes back home to do her rounds, where she finds a WOLF (Natasha) eating up one of her cows. She shoots the wolf! When she goes in for the kill shot, the wolf bites back! Calling the doc to meet her at the clinic, Grace discovers he's already there and the rangers called in about Charlie. DUN DUN DUN.
Marette blushed vividly and, shaking her thick blond locks to hide her flushed face, did the equivalent of crawling from the bar in misery. Her quiet life suited her, and at times she couldn't think of living anywhere else but there were other times, like this, where she felt a desire to simply vanish. Everyone here seemed to be entwined, somehow sharing everything. Maybe it was just because she was new, but she never felt like anyone here was a friend of hers, really. Once outside, the air, cooler than in the bar, sobered her by a degree or two and she simply felt sick to her stomach.

Marette appreciated the town for one thing - it might be late but she felt more than safe walking back to her shop, whose top floor served as her apartment. In the dark, a commotion seemed to be occurring from somewhere far away, she could less hear it than feel it... With a maliciously drunken thought, Marette hoped Grace had been pounced by one of the wolves. Forgetting this hope as soon as she slipped off her shoes, Marette fell softly onto the bed, thick with a down comforter and luxurious with its soft cotton sheets. Marette was asleep almost as soon as she felt the bed beneath her.
Natasha limped away as fast as she could.

Fuck, she hadn't wanted to bite the woman, but then again, she hadn't wanted to be shot either. She had just wanted one cow.

And now she couldn't even....

~Awshitallmighty that hurts~

She could see the stars above her as she scrambled as best she could.

All thoughts had become singled out to one, perfect, absolute goal: Get the fuck out of here, and manage to get yourself taken care of. Just find some way. Any way. Survive. Survive. Survive. Survive. Survive....

She thought of how Zack looked when she had said those things to Grace. Oh no..... oh fuck no...... he was going to KILL her. Oh fuck. She could see how her sister would react. Disbelief, then probably say she had it coming. And Jason..... oh this night was just not good. And she was the only one to blame for her folly. Desperate thoughts clawed their way through the swirling mess of her head and half-assed plans of cowardly escape taunted her. She paused, finally, laying down near a rotting tree trunk. Her breathing labored. blood coursed all over her. It HAD been cow blood..... but now it was covered up in her own. She was so fucking screwed up that she couldn't figure out where she had been shot. Her eyes darted around, searching, pain searing through her, seemingly with no source.

She then tried to calm down, slow her breathing, focus her thoughts, get through this. Regret tore through her like a sharp arrow as she finally found that she had come very close to being dead. The wound was on her shoulder. In the position she had been in, Grace hadn't been that far off.

For a moment, Natasha thought of how Zack had spoken. And then regretted her action more.

How was she going to..... get this looked at? Oh gosh, going back into a human form was going to hurt like this. For her, sometimes when she was injured, and the flesh and bone moved in the change, she felt pain of the likes she didn't know was possible. And it already hurt like hell. Oh god, how was she going to get this bullet out..... Wait, was there an exit wound?..... No.... or was..... doesn't matter... Got to find a way to change the wound..... If she went into the clinic with a bullet wound, there'd be too many questions. This town was too small.

Natasha took a shaky breath, panting as she finally figured out what she needed to do....

And she knew it would hurt worse. And in a way, she hoped, a little, that it would lessen the pain of her own stupidity....

A howl rang out, pained and plaintive. There was no mistaking that it was a wolf....

Then, moments later, another howl, that as it broke off, sounded almost human.....


Natasha stumbled up to the way to the clinic, her right hand clamped tightly over her left shoulder. Her breath was shaky, her movements jerky and uncontrolled. She was feeling like she was going to fall with every fucking step. She didn't even know if she was going the right way, this WAS the way to the clinic.... right?.... Her memories were too distracted by the throbbing pain pulsing in her shoulder. Please, please, please, please be the clinic.....

She paused, her gaze was starting to go into doubles, then twisting and turning. The world was spinning too quickly......

The girl took a deep breath and argued that she was being dramatic with herself, she was NOT seeing doubles, her vision wasn't THAT...... ~Ohmigodyesitis.~

She finally made it to the side of the building and leaned against it for a moment, steadying herself, then took a deep breath, then gulped and continued, all the while, repeating her story like a mantra in her head, over and over and over again. Trying to make herself believe it. Trying to be able to lie.

~I was walking around for a night stroll.... I know, I know, stupid..... well, I walked a little into the forest, just a little...... Then I heard something snap near me and then all of a sudden.... I felt something slam into me from behind and this pain in my shoulder.... I..... I think it was a mountain lion.... I think....~

That sounded believable from her, right? Right?.... Then she tried to think of how Zack was going to react and whimpered before stepping into the clinic, with a shoulder that had been shot, but also self-mauled.

Ignoring the Gift Shop Girl, and the light loafered fool, Zack looked at Sara with his head cocked slightly as he pulled a very large knife... what should more realistically be called a short sword, from a sheath hanging on the back of his belt, and rested it on the counter. Placing a finger on it, Zack gave it a good push, and the knife began to spin on it's crossguard.

As the knife twirled, Zack kept his eyes fixed on Sara, and said nothing... each completed rotation from the blade almost seemed to create a haunting whistle... as if the edge of the knife kept repeatedly slashing the air inside the bar.

The knife then began to slow, and finally ceased it's spinning... the point aiming directly at Sara. "Careful with your words, bitch. It seems like chance doesn't favor you tonight. And I'm not the one who's having a dry spell." He finished with a grin. "I'm sorry. I should be saying some shit like 'Hail she who would be queen...' but you'd need someone to do that for ya wouldn't ya?"

Reaching to the counter, Zack wrapped his fingers around the knife, and picked it up, letting his free hand's thumb run along the side of the knife's edge. "Still sour but how ol' Grace got me before you eh?"

[bg=#000000]My grin grows wider as Grace leaves and Clay begins to argue with Sara. These two got no love lost between them, for damn sure.

I look over at Alex as he pipes up with his fence suggestion and chuckle.
"Well fuck me, the runt has a voice. Who'd have thought?" I take a drink from the bottle of ale left for me, and continue. "A wolf's dumb enough to get itself plugged fulla lead, then it's fuckin' weak. A wolf's too cowardly to go after anything but livestock, then it's fuckin' weak. And weak ones have no place in society. Way I see it, chick with the shotgun what just left's doing the species a favour."

I take another long drink and set the bottle back down again, chuckling. "It's evolution, right? The weak perish and the strong survive."[/bg]
Alex was taken aback by the shotgun toting woman calling him "sparkles." How do they all know already? I thought I was doing a good job of hiding it...and on top of that I haven't seen a single rocket so I haven't noticeably checked anyone out...I think? Alex gained a worried expression before taking another drink from the beer, gaining a liking to it.

Then the older guy started in on Alex, unnerving him a bit from his looks alone. He talked about how wolves were weak and cowards and that he shotgun woman was in the right to shoot them and that it was evolution. Alex gathered up the little courage he had left. "Well one of these days I hope the wolves figure out your hatred for them and they prove their strength against you ya know? Cause they aren't weak, they just know how to hunt smartly and they are amazing with their pack loyalty ya?" Alex glared at the man before setting down the bottle gently and walking out of the bar quickly, hoping that nothing would happen to him.

As Alex walked he saw the girl, Natasha walking into the clinic and he thought he saw a splash of blood on her. He ran as quickly as his legs would take him towards the clinic and slammed open the door, running to catch up to Natasha.

"Woah! Natasha! Are you okay? You look like you got ripped open!" He cried out, forcing her to accept his shoulder, "Where is the doc? He's gotta be around here ya?" He asked, genuine concern in his eyes. He didn't even care that she was bleeding onto his new shirt. In fact...that could help! He quickly sat Natasha down and ripped the sleeve off of his shirt, "I had a bad accident surfing and hit a bunch of rocks, tore my leg up pretty good. Kai wasn't too kind that day ya?" Alex began, his voice calming and quiet but he was breaking out into a sweat, worried about the girl, "And so I had to tear my towel up and tie it around the wound to stop the bleeding ya? That's what I'm going to do for you but I just gotta warn ya it might hurt a bit ya know?" He smiled gently as he began to wrap the fabric around the wound as best as possible, placing a bit of pressure on it.
Natasha cringed as Alex helped her, whimpering slightly. She tried to remember the lie from before, the pain in the shredded shoulder throbbing intensely. She looked up at this man she hadn't even known for a day, help her.

"I was.... taking a walk.... Guess the mountain lions thought I looked tasty.... or something... All I know is that I... I tried my hardest to get away from it.... Oh.... oh ow.... owww..." She whimpered pathetically, finally giving up and admitting to herself that she was wounded and it hurt, letting go of her pride. She felt tired. She was in pain, and exhausted. Her eyes drooped slightly, her breathing slowing slightly. She wasn't in danger of being shot any more, and if Zack himself came in at this moment, she would honestly give him a thumbs up and tell him to have at it. She was just too fucking out of it.

"O....ok.... I think it's.... starting to get a little.... more tolerable... thank you...." Natasha murmured, slightly, still pained. She suddenly leaned forward, against the young man, her head resting on his shoulder, just trying to seek comfort. The wall wasn't exactly the best pillow. "I ain't gonna die.... I... just wanna rest my eyes... exhausted..... can't really... manage to sit up.... " She murmured, her eyes starting to close up, her breathing evening out. "Wake me when.... the doc.... comes.... ok?" She practically whispered as her eyes shut tight.

The second they closed, she got the mental image of Zack seeing Grace and her eyes shot back open. "Aaaaaand..... not a good.... idea..... Sleeping's.....mphhh... for the.... weak..." She stated as best she could, still nudged onto the man's shoulder. "Never should have..... had that drink..... I was... stupid...." She muttered slightly, her breathing laboring with the force of trying to talk while exhausted. "Thanks..... heh... for.... taking the time.... to help.... me.... seems like... business is a.... little busy... tonight... heh..." Natasha struggled through the words, trying to smile.
Alex listened to Natasha's murmurs as she leaned her head against him. She decided to try and sleep, which Alex knew was probably one of the worst ideas but she snapped back awake much to his relief.

"I'm going to set you here carefully, don't move and stay awake, I'm going to look for the doctor or at least something to ease the pain..." Alex leaned her against the wall and stood up, taking off his shirt and laying it over her, hopefully so she'd stay warm. He knew that if you lose enough blood you get cold and he didn't want that to happen. He turned and ran into the back room, looking for the doctor or a nurse or something but it seemed vacated. "Shit..." he muttered under his breath.

He quickly moved to the cabinets and began to rummage through them, looking for something to ease the pain and stop the bleeding. He had no clue what he was looking for. He ran back to the waiting room. "Wait here, don't die, I'm going to the bar to see if the doctor is there! Just...don't die!" Alex was beginning to get panicky. He charged out the front door and ran back to the bar full speed, slamming the door open.

"WHERE'S THE DOCTOR, WE HAVE A MOUNTAIN LION ATTACK VICTIM AT THE CLINIC AND SHE'S BLEEDING BADLY! IT'S NATASHA!" He shouted before turning on his heel and charging back out, running as fast as he could back to the clinic.
Tonight was just one of those nights. . . and then some.

A smack to the back of Jason's head was taken in stride, ignored completely as his head refused to budge from the impact. Steady as a rock. If anything one could surmise that the bartender had been expecting it from Sara. Feeling damaged pride might have compelled some men to grab her hand or say something threatening to try proving she should never try that again. Except that the Werewolf had no pride left to be damaged.

All that really happened was just a single look shot at the waitress. One with a strange intensity that perhaps resulted from only having one eye as it still managed to rival the intimidation both eyes on a normal man could cause in others. Seeing it just might have made someone wonder what kind of person the guy was before coming to this little town. That was the end of it however, as everything else returned back to regular bar chatter for the most part.

Words exchanged between Zack and Sara were listened to more for the emotions under them rather than what was actually being said. Listening for changes in heartbeat to see if anything would go beyond just verbal violence. The bartender just did his job which was to sell drinks and keep the bar safe for those just looking for some time away from the world inside a bottle. Never anything beyond that.

That was when Alex barged in after having barged out following some heated words with Clay with news that Natasha had been attacked. . . by a Mountain Lion. Now there was a story that smelled almost as bad as Clay. It left Baine looking over at Sara again. Likely anticipating getting hit again since it was his fault her sister didn't know her own damn limits with booze. How did it always end up his problem by default? Especially when she was given just about the lightest thing in the bar that tasted good enough to be liquid candy.

"You should go see your sister Sara. I'll watch the place since it's kind of my job. I'd reckon not everyone in here is going to go running off to see a mountain lion's handiwork."

They found him a few minutes later, where a stream, barely a trickle, cut a course through jagged rocks. The hunter was sprawled with his limbs oddly twisted, the rifle slung across his back and Charlie's shotgun fallen beyond arms-reach. He was trying to grab at it, but seemed unable to move. As the first of the two rangers drew closer, they saw the angle of his foot. The man had twisted his ankle.

"Stay down!" one of them called as the other circled in and kicked the shotgun further into the undergrowth.

"Sajaliavam! Sagubih se..." came the mutter, barely conscious. The man had clearly hit his head in the fall.

The pointman signalled to the other rangers, who swept in all at once, two keeping guns trained as a third knelt on his back and a fourth cuffed his bloodstained hands. "Sajaliavam! Molia!"

"What the hell language is that?" asked the kneeling ranger.

As the cuffs slapped on, the hunter started struggling, his words etched with the pain that was no doubt rippling from his head and ankle. "Kakvo e tova! Molia!"

The other two rangers came in to help restrain the man, while the oldest shouldered his rifle and scratched his jaw. "You better start speaking English, wildman." He nodded to the others. "Get him up."

Picking up the man, his weapons, and his half-soaked hunting pack, the rangers began retracing their steps, their leader snatching out his radio to report the capture.