“Form up!” Alpha snapped, coming at the crawler’s deck.

Janine straightened herself, hands at her sides, her axe left in her den. Today she and the other leaders were assembling before the main elevator leading deep within the crawler’s bowels. Sword Saints and their knight captains and Warlords and their wolf hags stood in two lines, carrying no weapon or armor. They were a welcome committee for a Houstad mayor, a man by the name of Jaquan Kruger, and the local commander of the Provincial Army.

The elevator came up with a soft whooshing sound, bringing the Blessed Mother flanked by Captain Cristobo, who looked like a cub against her massive bulk. Ravager stepped forward, moving on all fours, sniffing the air distrustfully, and constantly casting gazes at the assembled Wolfkins, looking more like a caged beast than an honorable leader. Where Cristobo’s steps produced a metallic thud upon the surface, Ravager moved utterly silently, occasionally licking her lips and slowly blinking.

“Why are you trembling?” In a burst of motion, Ravager turned to look at Anissa and another wolf hag standing near Janine. The light from her eyes engulfed the women whole, and when a gigantic head came close, they let out a scent of fear at the sight of the gigantic fangs. The yellow light coming from Ravager’s eyes has utterly devoured a small crimson star in Anissa’s mechanic eye.

Ravager froze in place, forgetting everything, looking predatory on two smaller Wolfkins. The one who shook like a leaf on a wind, a wolf hag from Alpha’s pack, had clanked with her fangs, unable to contain the sheer horror at Ravager’s implied displeasure. Anissa gulped and said:

“We’re cold, Blessed Mother.” Ravager tilted her head, observing the speaker as if she were just a gnat. “We don’t enjoy being around here. It’s cold, water comes from the sky, and there is no prey or danger in sight.”

Ravager lifted her paw, releasing a single claw on her index finger. Janine stepped forward, shielding both soldiers with her own body and looking into the amber eyes with no fear.

“If my pack has caused you any displeasure, take it on me first, Blessed Mother.” Janine sensed a familiar smell nearby, and Alpha joined her, standing in silent defiance to protect her own soldier.

“Is that so?” Ravager stretched a word, the claw twitching.

“Yes, Blessed Mother. You had taught us to respect the military command. I am responsible for the well-being of my pack.” The claw came down, and Janine felt her soul leaving her body. But instead of cutting her in two, Ravager merely tapped Janine’s shoulder.

“Good girl,” Ravager said off-handedly, before blinking wildly and focusing her eyes at the wolf hags. When she spoke, her voice had a slightly honeyed edge. “I, too, hate our situation. But the soldier must love not her weapon or armor, nor the lamentation of the fallen foes. All of us love war far too much, but what do we know of the peace for which we are claiming fighting for? Barely anything. It is time you learn if you are to live proper one day.” She started moving away and looked back, remembering something. “As for cold, you’ll adjust in a year or two. Alpha and Zero can confirm. Don’t worry, we won’t stay here for so long, so I recommend wearing warm clothes.”

Without saying another word, Ravager left to join Cristobo and Alpha, along with Janine, returned to their posts. The column was nearing Houtstad’s outskirts, moving on the specially made road meant to accommodate the military forces. Despite all this, the crawler had been leaving behind cracks in the pavement, so great was the machine weight that even the reinforced concrete could barely endure its weight. And behind it moved tanks, artillery pieces, and trucks carrying the regular forces. Their long journey was nearing its end.

And all around them was a land of wonders. Rich fields, teeming with wheat, were located side by side with enormous pastures on which livestock was herded. And not just any livestock! Cows—actual, living, breathing cows—were here, and according to the videos that Janine watched over the Net, their milk tasted softer and had a white coloration instead of cusacks’ rough green and highly nutrient milk. Try as she might, Janine saw no lizard hens anywhere in sight but saw countless trees heavy with apples. Rivers started appearing in sight, encircling Houstad like trenches. Only instead of sharp spikes and mines, cubs of various ages were playing in the water, looking incredulously at the massive mountain of steel approaching their city. Some even waved to them while others were taking photos.

A plane flew above them, proudly carrying the heavenly blue colors of Iterna, lowering itself to a distant airport in the city. Janine noticed how Zero clenched and unclenched her fists, trying to keep calm. Tourists and business partners from Iterna would often travel to the faraway lands. Some wanted to have the thrill of seeing something new and meeting unusual-looking people. Others were busy making deals and opening new trade routes between the countries. The world was truly becoming less savage by the day, sparking hope in Janine’s chest that one day the Wolf Tribe might complete its mission and see all humanity safe and sound under a single government.

Janine turned her head, seeing a small vehicle racing to them from the capital. It stopped near the slowly moving crawler, and two people had left it. One was a bright looking elderly gentleman who moved around with ease. When the guards led him and his companion on the deck, the mayor smiled warmly at the arrayed Wolfkins, hurrying toward Ravager. His companion looked a bit more serious—a tall woman dressed in a standard gray uniform with a golden medal for bravery decorating her chest. The upper left corner of her head was shaved clean, showing long-healed burn marks on otherwise fair skin. She looked at the Wolfkins with a mix of disgust and caution.

“Welcome to Houstad, Commander Ravager!” Jaquan greeted her in a confident voice, grasping Ravager’s finger in a friendly ‘handshake’. Seeing the Wolfkins around him lowering themselves on one knee, the mayor waved his hands. “No! No need for any ceremonies, my friends; I will have none of that from the brave defenders of our safety. It is I and the people of Houstad who owe you and the founder a debt of honor!”

“I founded nothing!” Ravager’s jaws snapped before the man’s face, who only shielded his eyes from light and put on shades, keeping a smile on his face.

“Then only the brave defenders,” Jacomie said carefully, coming closer. She only nodded to Ravager before turning to Cristobo and giving him a salute. “Captain Cristobo! I heard much about your achievements in the reclamation efforts. It is an honor to meet you in person, sir. We received a word about the attack on a settlement in the Outer Lands. Do we know anything more about the attackers?”

“Negative, lieutenant.” Cristobo shook hands with her. “The attack party was fully wiped out. Warlord Onyxia is currently trying to find any clues about the whereabouts of the attackers.”

“Please, Jacomie, I am sure our guests will tell us everything later.” Jaquan put his hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder. “How about we all concentrate on preparing a parade instead? Ah, I can already see it! The Wolfkins of both groups march side by side, with Commander Ravager leading on…”

“Not interested,” Ravager said in a hoarse voice, turning toward the elevator. “Hail to you and all that, but just tell me where our dens are, and I’ll leave the city to have a nap.”

“But this just won’t do!” Jaquan hurried after her. “Some of your soldiers have families in our cities, and the brave Ice Fangs own several enterprises. No doubt family members and workers would like to see their family and friends arrive in glory, and this is also a perfect opportunity to show solidarity and unity between all people of our nation…”

Janine let out a breath of relief once the group had disappeared in the elevator. Instead of waiting for the elevator like the Sword Saints, she turned to the deck’s edge and leaped over the rail, feeling the wind blowing against her hair. The crawler was an enormous piece of machinery, and for normal soldiers, it was dangerous to operate on its outer hull without risking falling on the massive tracks beneath and being smashed into a bloody smear. But Wolfkins were naturally made to scale across most obstacles with their nimble and strong fingers. She jumped from gun to gun, using them like a stairway to get on a lower observation deck, near the place where her pack’s dens were.

The Wolfkins had manned the observation decks, looking eagerly at the giant fields and distant cars, licking their lips at the sight of six-legged horses who were grazing next to the other livestock, no doubt drooling at the dream of tasting actual fresh meat. In the last week, the crew had run out of organic meat, and only vegetables, mashed potatoes, and nutrient paste were served to everyone, leading to a sour mood across the board. A few soldiers waved back to the curious cubs near the rivers.

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Jumping over the rail, Janine narrowed her eyes, spotting Marco on the road below, surprised that he was not on the observation deck like he promised he would. The boy begged and asked her and his siblings to show up, along with a few other soldiers, and Janine had granted him this minor boon, curious as to what he was planning to do. Usually, it was Bogdan who stirred things up.

Like most of the soldiers, the boy was dressed in a buttoned jacket with a long collar, thick pants, boots, and a beret. He jumped off the crawler and rushed toward the railing that separated the fields from the road. After a brief confusion, Janine spotted a horse’s filly beating with a hoof in panic and leaning against the iron railing, with what looked like her mother worriedly looking over. Upon seeing the Wolfkin, both horses let out panicked sounds, and the filly stood on her back legs, trying to defend herself.

Marco dodged clumsy kicks aimed at his face, circling around the panicked filly, and tried to lift it over the railings, only for his knees to give in. Clenching his fangs, the boy tried to resist, refusing to let the panicked filly go. Janine wondered why he bothered. If it was her, she would’ve snapped the horse’s neck and threw the meat back to the farmer. No livestock lacking common sense was welcomed in the Outer Lands; all hostility and rough nature were forcibly wiped out of them, leaving just easily manageable and docile animals.

“What are you doing standing around here like mouth-breathers?” A voice snapped above Janine’s ears, addressing the Wolfkins on a deck below them. “Go and help the boy!”

“At once, Warlord!” Kalaisa’s voice spoke faster than anyone else’s, and like a black arrow, the Wolfkin jumped off the crawler, weaving around the other passing vehicles as she raced toward Marco.

Janine looked behind herself and was greeted with the ugly sight of Warlord Ygrite’s snout. The woman breathed heavily, unbuttoning the collar and grasping her neck. For one reason or another, the Spirits blessed the warlord with an abundance of fangs. They grew not only in her mouth but also pierced the skin on her cheeks and neck, sticking out like cruel stingers covered in red.

“Sorry to startle you, Janine.” Ygrite’s words were accompanied by a loud sound of sucking in air; the mere act of speaking was a torturous struggle for her. When she opened her mouth wide, Janine saw white inside. Fangs were coming from her palate and from her gums, locking her bloodied tongue in a sharp cage. “But you and Ashbringer treated my girl really nasty, I say."

“She was the one who started it,” Janine replied, putting her paws on the railing.

“Oh, I am not overly caring about that.” Ygrite let out a laugh, glaring at a few crew members and Wolfkins on the deck to make them retreat into the corridors. “If she is foolish enough to challenge a warlord and die, that’s on her. This is what I have a problem with!”

Ygrite pointed at Kalaisa and Marco with a crooked finger. The Wolf Hag had easily lifted the struggling boy, helping him to push over a struggling filly on the other side and reunite her mother. The scared mare still hit with two front legs, but Kalaisa blocked the sharp hooves with a paw, seating the boy on her shoulder. Before any of them could leave, a farmer rode to them, apologizing for the incident and thanking them for the help. Kalaisa unhappily tried to wave him away, but Marco kept on talking with the smiling farmer, forcing the Wolf Hag to stay in the place.

“Just a few weeks ago, she wouldn’t bat an eye if the boy got hit by the horse. Or better yet, she would’ve added her own kick to it. And now she is the first one to assist anyone with anything and comes to speak with you every night.” Ygrite stopped to inhale more air and scratched at her neck, tearing off a few fangs and throwing them down. “Freaky.”

“More like she is growing up,” Janine said. “You should try sorting out your soldiers’ problems. Their well-being is your responsibility.”

“Maybe I will.” Ygrite made an ugly grin. “But I ain’t the one who screwed up the girl. It was her parents’ and shamans’ fault. None of them explained to her it is ok to ask for help or food, even if you are a motherless cur. I was given a flawed tool.”

“And?” Janine raised an eyebrow. “Ygrite, the fuck is this matter? You have an unstable soldier high in rank among your pack. Would the knowledge of being right sustain you when Kalaisa would’ve killed her family and led her pack to ruin? As a Warlord, everything in our pack is our responsibility. Discipline and morale are just as important as martial knowledge. Get on with being a leader, or step down and let others do the job. Even Kalaisa is behaving more maturely than you are at the moment, and she is a bitch. But at least she tries to change.”

She could feel the seething anger coming from Ygrite and did not try to defend herself. If the fool dares to try to dominate her, so be it. Ygrite was a member of Ravager’s private circle far earlier than Janine. The woman had opened her eyes in the laboratory, or so she claimed. Even Janine was nothing more than a youngster compared to her. But she didn’t care. She fought and bled to get where she is today, and she’ll be damned if someone like Ygrite can dominate her into submission.

“Truth be told, I had a thought of tearing your throat out for a sec here. But ya have a point; this will only make all of us weaker. I’m not really feeling like doing you or Ashbringer in anymore,” Ygrite laughed and stood next to Janine; her hostility was gone in a flash. A knife the length of her forearm slid from a sleeve of her coat, and the Warlord spun it in her paw, turning the weapon into a blur. “I’ll try to set the girl straight, but I’ll appreciate it if you keep talking with her. It was all so simple in the past. Ensure that everyone is fed, lead troops in the battle, forget the weaklings who died, and live to fight another day… Where did all that go? Why does everything have to be so complex now?”

“Change is inevitable. A few know it better than we,” Janine said quietly, looking at her oversized paws. “I remember the time when we fought without power armor and feasted on the still-hot insides of our foes. And I also remember how many needlessly died before Alpha and Lacerated One changed it all, forcing everyone to use ranged weapons and armor instead of relying just on our fangs and claws. Rather than losing, we gained. Change brings complexity, it’s true, but it also breeds life. And I can live with it. And so can you.”

“My, I do remember young Janine, all shy and fragile, hiding behind Terrific’s back, eyes to the ground. What turned ya into a philosopher?” Ygrite grinned.

“Death,” Janine replied, jumping one deck down to join the soldiers.

The farmer gave a bag with something to Marco, making the young boy stand up in Kalaisa’s hold when he looked inside. Kalaisa put Marco under her arm and grasped the bag with her fangs. Her amber eyes looked calmly at the passing tanks for a few quick breaths. And then she darted, weaving among them like water, before jumping onto a large, heavy tank. Running down the barrel of its weapon, the Wolf Hag jumped with a force strong enough to tilt the tank’s tower aside slightly, flying like a bird above the massive crawler’s tracks. She landed just beneath the lower deck, and her fingers started slipping, resulting in Anji grabbing the Wolf Hag by the paw and pulling her up.

“How nice of you to help a little cub, Kalaisa,” Anji sang in a honeyed tone.

“Shut your trap, Bootlicker.” Kalaisa spat the bag into Marco’s paws. “I didn’t need your help.”

“No, really, that was cool. Way to go! I am cheering for you!” Anissa said, coming from a corridor. Immediately after, she had to dodge a punch aimed at her face with a smug smile on her snout.

The hit left a dent in the metal wall, and Anissa immediately counterattacked, slamming her forearm against Kalaisa’s neck and kicking with her left leg, only for Kalaisa to block the kick with her own leg. Two women bumped their heads against each other and bared their fangs; the red light from Anissa’s eye faced the dim embers of Kalaisa’s amber eyes. Janine let out a low growl, and both of them jumped aside, standing at attention.

“Warlord!” Marco saluted Janine before showing her the bag, which contained six glass pots with white milk inside. “Look what the Mister gave to us! Cows’ milk! Real stuff! He even invited me later to get a ride and…”

“And you will never again risk your hide without my permission.” Janine’s finger smacked Marco lightly against the forehead. Technically, she should’ve punished Kalaisa for leaving the crawler too, but just for today, Janine has decided to let this minor insubordination slip. “You won’t hoard it for yourself. Three pots go to Ygrite’s pack for Kalaisa’s help.”

“As if I want this piss,” Kalaisa mumbled, trying to retreat into the corridor.

“Wait, wait just a moment, everyone!” Marco put aside the bag and rushed past Anissa into the corridor. He came back carrying leather sacks with written names on them, beaming with a smile from ear to ear. “Because of how cold it is, Anji, Kalaisa, and I have made something for you all!”

Curious, Janine took the sack with her name written on it. Slicing off the rope, she unfurled it and found a black sweater within. A genuine, somewhat rough-made, but actual sweater with an emblem of her own pack, the Taleteller, buried in a Wolfkin’s skull, on the chest. Bogdan, Ignacy, Elzada, Impatient One, and Anissa all got the same-looking sweaters; Anji got a far more elegantly made sweater with an emblem of a paw wreathed in shadows, crushing a bone in its grasp. Kalaisa looked in confusion when Marco gave her one of the sacks.

“When in the Abyss did you make it?” She growled, tearing the leather asunder to find a rough-looking sweater with Ygrite’s pack emblem, an exploding house.

“Since you agreed to help us, I thought it would be fair if you’d get one, too.” Marco shook his shoulders. “I worked on it in my spare time, so…”

“I like it,” Kalaisa declared, taking off a jacket and putting the sweater on. “I nominate you to be my favorite pipsqueak. If you’ll need to have anyone beaten up, just call me.”

“Thank you, Marco.” Janine gave him a pat on the head. “You too, Anji, Kalaisa. As a token of my thanks, I am giving you permission to escort Marco to this farm if he would be willing to take the farmer up on his offer.”

“Great, more busywork.” Kalaisa’s shoulders sank.

“What was that?” Impatient One glared at her.

“I said, ready and able, ma’am!”

“Excellent,” Janine said, heading toward the corridor. “Now back to your posts; we are arriving in Houstad in under an hour. Make yourself look presentable.”