Kirk.

Kirk rubbed the collar of his jacket, hoping to banish this annoying stiffness and look anywhere else but on his sister’s back, while wishing to be anywhere but here. To tell the truth, he didn’t dislike the past few weeks. First, he made new friends. He had no idea why Bogdan, of all people, would reach out to him; Kirk was sort of an outsider in his own tribe, with only his sister and brother talking to him. And Kalaisa. He blinked, banishing the fear.

But suddenly, Bogdan barged into his life, inviting him to play cards, teaching him how to banter for fun, and never, ever getting angry about him. Even when Kirk accidentally broke that pipe and all of them ended up being submerged by water instead of flooding the blasted Ice Boys. He half expected to be beaten for this, but everyone just laughed while they were fixing the pipe.

And Kalaisa… acted strange, too. Gone were the beatings; she occasionally would snap at him, calling him and the rest of the family useless, but now she would always stop, apologize, and rephrase her words, almost inviting them to get back at her. While his sister gave Kalaisa a piece of her mind, essentially denouncing her, Kirk kept quiet. It was all a trap; it has to be. The moment he says something, Kalaisa will punish him worse than before.

Kalaisa started dragging Kirk and the others out of the base, requesting leaves from Ygrite. Kirk begged the Spirits to make the Warlord ignore these requests as usual, but Ygrite approved all of them. Thankfully, they were never alone; either Anissa or Anji always accompanied them, never allowing Kirk and the others to stay with Kalaisa without supervision.

Kirk himself was doing fine. Other females in the pack, for some reason, chose not to dominate neither him nor his brother and sister. Some of his fur regrew, making him look like a normal Wolfkin for once, but each time others were looking at him, he saw the same thing. Pity. As annoying as it was, he came to terms with the fact that he wasn’t going to ever find a soulmate. The last heat season has already passed, and once again, no girl chose him as her mate.

Kalaisa led her family to a calm building within a busy Houstad, where a good-natured woman listened to them. Kirk wasn’t sure what the point of this all was; the woman always spoke with them one after another, asking how they were feeling and carefully probing about their family history.

After a sixth session, Kirk became comfortable enough to reveal her a little. Their family was never normal. No father, no mother; Kalaisa was always angry, but she had never raised a paw on them. Coming home, all bruised and beaten, she would hand them milk and meat and run off to get more. They tried to help her, but without anyone to teach them, they broke more things than they fixed, leading to Kalaisa’s mood souring even more, especially after Kirk ruined her flute by mistake. Still, she only glared angrily at him and started cleaning the place. Their family was a dysfunctional one, but they were a family, and Kirk remembered how Kalaisa’s lips twitched into a smile after he presented her with a barely working flute that he made with his own paws.

And then the shamans announced their verdict. Kirk remembered this day, how could he forget? She came back, barely breathing, and the once-amber eyes became a mad crimson sea of popped vessels. Her paws trembled, and when the sister asked cheerfully which pack took her in, Kalaisa struck. Breaking a bone. She screamed in rage, and they screamed from pain. And their torment only spiraled upward from there.

The good woman gave Kirk some pointers on how to deal with Kalaisa. Not to look at her when speaking with her, try to concentrate on happier thoughts, and distance himself from her. Find a hobby. He tried it, of course, but the problem was that the blasted Kalaisa refused to get out of his face!

Today she announced they are withdrawing some tokens from her account, and he is helping. Sadly, neither Anji nor Bogdan could come. Bogdan was busy showing Marco the city, and Anji had to oversee Onyxia’s pack while the Warlord was away. Thank the Spirit, Anissa and Ignacy volunteered to go along. They traveled via a tram in awkward silence until Ignacy showed Kirk a thing known as a “web game”, a funny little shooter. Then the situation livened up a little, with Anissa and Kalaisa even cheering him on after each win and groaning in frustration at his slow reaction. At the end of their journey, all four of them sat down, playing on the same map. Kirk even downed Kalaisa, although he suspected that she simply let him win.

“Is this where all our payments go?” Kirk decided to try the woman’s advice and start a conversation while ignoring Kalaisa. He looked to the side, noticing four black vans parking near the tall white bank’s building with a golden emblem of a snake devouring its tail. Then he turned to look at the benches, smiling a little at the sight of a sister and brother playing under the supervision of an elderly matron.

She can’t hurt you. Not here. Everything is fine. Breathe.

“No, no!” Ignacy said. “Kirk, the national bank has many branches all over the country; even the smallest settlement has at least a place where you can deposit your tokens. To exchange your tokens for, say, Iternian credits, you have to go to a major settlement. This right here is just one of the many buildings owned by the bank.”

“How do they know how much we own?” Anissa’s ears perked. “I’ve only spoken with the bank teller near our village.”

“Simple.” Ignacy showed his terminal. “You remember how we all played together via the net? Well, it is the same principle here, although way more encrypted. All transactions are pretty much happening in real time, so the moment you deposit something in one bank, all of them know of it.”

“And what if someone hacks into it?” Kirk asked suspiciously, remembering the stunt that the ice boys pulled against them by locking half of their pack within their compartment for fun.

“Virtually impossible.” Ignacy beamed, opening a Net page and showing a fifty-page-long explanation of something called dimensional encryption. Seeing the raised brows, he sighed. “Well, after the Extinction happened and we all sort of got along, Lada, an AI from Iterna, has provided a special encryption that is impervious even to Artificer’s tampering for all three major powers. This encryption ensures that no one can repeat the Extinction and hack into the military, unleashing WMDs upon the world. After some research, Till Ingo created a less effective copy encryption technology, which is now used in our bank system. So know, if your tokens, shares, or interest rate go missing, this means you were scammed by the Elite,” Ignacy giggled at the last words.

“Interest rate?” He heard Kalaisa scratching her neck. “The Abyss is what?”

I will be fine. I am fine.

“Basically, you put tokens on a special account, don’t take anything from it for a certain amount of time, and the bank pays you the entire sum back plus some extra at the end of that time. I don’t really know the specifics; I’ve never been into obtaining more tokens.”

“Wait, you can do it?” Anissa’s eyes widened. “Why hasn’t anyone told us?” She reached out for her terminal and quickly dialed a number. “Lacerated One? Excuse the sudden call, but I have important information to report…”

They come inside the bank, earning themselves surprised looks. Kirk only smirked at it. He and Kalaisa were dressed in bright crimson jackets, shirts, scarves, caps, thick pants to keep them warm, and specially tailored sneakers. Anissa and Ignacy wore similar-looking clothes, but theirs were navy blue, matching the unofficial color of their pack. These obscene riches were provided to the Wolf Tribe by the business owned by his excellency, Devourer, as part of a welcoming gift.

People inside, in comparison, were dressed in light summer clothes, with coolers working at full power to combat the supposed summer heat. One guard even came closer, asking if they were okay.

“Yeah, totally.” Kalaisa waved him aside, coming to take her place in a line.

“You.” Anissa jumped to sit before a consultant. “Tell me everything about interest rates.”

Ignacy picked a few brochures to read, and Kirk landed on a sofa and stretched his body, putting both paws behind his head. He liked Houstad. Each time he was sent to buy something for the Tribe in the Outer Lands, the people would glance at him because Wolfkins always kept their distance from normies. Here though? No one even batted an eye since their cousins were everywhere. Even now, an elderly-looking Ice Fang was sitting on the opposite sofa, reading the news.

“I would like to withdraw three hundred tokens.” He heard Kalaisa’s voice.

“A moment, please.” The cashier checked her ID before returning it. “Would you like to withdraw them from your primary account or from the state’s account?”

“I only have one account.” Kalaisa frowned.

“This is incorrect, miss. The state has set up a separate account at the command of Governor Devourer. All members of your tribe are eligible for a certain sum from this account. As an officer, you can withdraw two thousand tokens.” The cashier explained.

“Why hasn’t anyone told us?” Anissa exploded on her seat, reaching for the terminal again. “Lacerated One? I have an update. You remember these cusacks that the tribe wasn’t able to afford? Now we can…”

“Nobody moves! Hands in the air!” Kirk opened his eyes at the sound of a scream and a loud snap of the front door. A gun’s barrel was pointed directly at his snout.

People clad in black leather and wearing biker helms stormed the main entrance, all armed with machine guns. One of the security guards tried to reach for his gun when a bandit pointed his empty palm at him. The guard convulsed and fell to the floor, vomiting and trembling with his entire body. The terrorist who had pointed his hand at him came closer and stomped his boot down, leaving the poor man with a minor crack in the skull and knocking him out cold. Kirk saw a trickle of blood coming from the man’s ear and nose.

The rest spread around the room, taking aim at the customers and bank personnel. Kirk noticed how a cashier tried to reach for an emergency alarm button. She shuddered when a flame tongue burned a hole through the security window, coiling around the woman’s hand like a snake before disappearing. A bulky man dressed in a crimson leather suit came closer, two orbs of fire dancing at his shoulders without burning his suit.

“Try it again, and I’ll melt you, bitch,” he said in a heavily synthesized voice that sounded like static. “Open the main vault, and no one else will be hurt.”

“I am sorry, is this some sort of a silly joke that I am not privy to, or do you just want to die really bad?” Kalaisa’s fingers broke through the counter.

The man snapped his fingers, and fire rose around Kalaisa, leaving her form hidden from view. Still looking at the flame ring, the terrorist snapped orders, and several of his goons rushed to the second floor. Another terrorist started walking around the room, looking for someone.

A cub’s scream attracted Kirk’s attention. The cub was seated some place away from her grandfather, looking in the windows, when the terrorists came in. Scared, the girl rushed to the elderly man and received a brutal hit against the skull with a rifle’s butt. A robber stood above the downed kid, pointing his weapon at her and yelling at her not to move or he’ll end her here and now.

The world changed, and Kirk has found himself back in the tent once again, shivering and crying at the sound of steps. Her steps. Kalaisa never bothered to hide, and she returned from her training in Ygrite’s pack even in fouler mode than usual. Each day was getting worse.

Today she started by sucker punching her sister and bringing her head to the knee. Kirk whimpered, and she turned to him, eyes burning like embers. He felt pain at his ear when she lifted him up, forcing him to see her face, before pain speared his solar plexus. Gasping for air, he received another hit across his neck, robbing him of any chance to breathe. Kalaisa threw him up lightly, and Kirk felt the tent’s fabric touching his head. In the next moment, light dimmed in his eyes as the true pain spread across him, flowing from a spot between his legs after her kick.

Wordlessly, he fell to the ground, clutching at his groin, tears flowing. Why? He saw her moving toward his brother, saw his shadow trying to get smaller and smaller. Why is he so weak? Why is she allowed to do it? Why has everything changed!?

He snapped back into reality, finding the terrorist in his paws, and his fangs sank deeply into the man’s neck. The man gurgled desperately, trying to form a plea for surrender, but Kirk would hear none of this. The man’s figure shifted between him. Terrorist. Kalaisa. Terrorist. Kalaisa. He tore off the throat, allowing a stream of red to color the shocked people.

And collapsed on his knees, feeling his stomach revolting. His breakfast came out in a stream of vomit; his lungs refused to let in even an ounce of air; and the muscles in his legs screamed from pain. Looking up, he saw the terrorist, who had disabled a guard before pointing a hand at him. The man in crimson leather walked to stand above Kirk.

“Shouldn’t have done it, kiddo,” the synthetic voice said. The man pointed his left hand at him, and a tongue of fire appeared on his index finger.

Hearing the cub’s cries right behind him, Kirk jumped up, ignoring the pain in his body and pieces of vomit in his mouth, and attacked. I won’t let my family be hurt ever again! He grabbed the man’s arm and forcibly lifted it up, using the terrorist’s surprise to overcome the foe and allowing the tongue of flame to bathe the ceiling, melting the chandelier rather than burning him and the cub. Immediately after, he struck at the man’s head with the claws of his free paw.

The man’s biker helmet came apart, showing a black-furred face below, with two flat holes for a nose and pitch-black eyes. Orais. The new breed easily caught Kirk’s next attack, twisting his arm to the point of snapping, before kicking him in the chest. Orais were a tribe of new breeds who had joined Outsider. Wild and fearless, many of their numbers exceed low-ranked Wolfkins in pure physical might. This one was easily stronger than Kirk; his kick sent the soldier across the room, cratering him into a wall and stealing the remaining air in his lungs.

“Plan B. Grab this girl as a hostage; I will burn this one…” A fireball flickered to life in his left hand, but the terrorist never finished his speech.

The new breed with power behind him gasped weakly after his chest was speared by the sharpest claws. All Warlords formed their own style. Be it the use of melee weapons along with ranged ones like Janine or a brutal charge like Alpha, each Warlord was unique in her method of fighting. Kalaisa chose speed, mercilessly training every part of her body to be as elastic as possible, shattering her own bones and allowing them to regrow again, tougher than before and with a greater range of movements. Often, she would stand in the circle of her pack, ordering them to throw knives at her, and become a whirlwind of speed, turning around and catching the weapons mid-flight.

Kalaisa jumped out of the circle of fire, landing on the ceiling, and used it like a springboard to jump off it at the attacker. Before the stones of the ruined ceiling could even pass half a distance to the floor, Kalaisa’s arm went into the man’s body all the way to the elbow. When she tore it free, the man’s body came apart in a torrent of blood and gore. The Orais has started to turn, striking back blindly with his right hand.

“You touched my family,” Kalaisa growled, and his fist crumbled in her paw like clay. Pieces of flesh and bone pushed between her fingers turned into bloody mush. The terrorist screamed, striking with his remaining hand, only for the Wolfkin to grab him by the head. In a single violent twist, Kalaisa has broken his neck; the second twist has left him headless for good, and his flames have died.

And there it is. Kirk thought, looking at Kalaisa at her full height, meeting her eyes for the first time this day. He heard roars and screaming when Anissa leaped at the robbers, saw how Ignacy punched a robber’s head all the way down to his heart, and saw how walls were turning red with blood. But one thing predominated it all, filling him with hopelessness and fear. Kalaisa. Looking at him.

He pissed himself and blacked out.

****

“I am sorry for the mess.” Kirk angrily wiped off the tears, sitting on the stairways leading into the bank while police were busy removing bodies.

No civilian died; thank the Spirits. After witnessing the bloody carnage staged by Anissa, the rest of the robbers reasonably surrendered, leaving people in morbid shock at the sight of slaughter. News agencies arrived a minute before police arrived, filming the scene, and the officers stated that there would be no charges pressed against the Wolfkins, but the group would have to go with them to the station. The officer in charge chewed out Anissa and Kalaisa about killing in front of the civilians, hissing that there were children in the room.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Mess?” Anissa laughed, sitting next to him. “That was a good warm-up.”

“Sis, there were cubs in here,” Ignacy said quietly.

“People die all the time. It’s better for them to learn that the world is a dangerous place now rather than later.” Anissa shrugged unabashedly.

“I am sorry, I… I just wanted to keep my brother safe,” Kirk said, trembling with his body.

He felt their eyes on him and wondered what had happened. Was it something he said?

“Kirk, are you ok?” Ignacy started. “You saved a girl. And the only member of your family here is…”

He stood up, unable to hear the rest, and walked straight to the police van. Remembering the good woman’s advice, he pulled out a small mechanical toy from his pocket. The toy resembled Grand Commander Outsider; his cloak billowed behind his back, a cowl covered his face, and steel armor encased the entire body. Slowly and carefully, he took the toy apart and started assembling it anew, accompanying the process with slow breaths.

I can fix my life. Kirk tried to focus on this thought. He was still young. He doesn’t have to be afraid all the time. Kalaisa has no sway over him anymore. That period of his life was over. Kirk reassembled the toy and immediately took it apart, repeating the process while his heartbeat slowed down. He is not useless. He is a human being.

His thoughts trailed back to the vision earlier. He tore the man’s throat, but it was Kalaisa in his vision. Was he… is he wanting to kill Kalaisa? Whom will it help?

“Hey, champ, how are you doing?” Ignacy asked, coming into the van.

“I am broken, Ignacy,” Kirk replied.

“Oh, so the hero who saves a little girl is broken now. Wish I was this broken. Check it out; you are all over the news! They called you a black-furred savior.” Ignacy reached for a terminal and showed it to the trembling Kirk. Reporters acted fast, quickly interviewing people before the police could flush them off the scene. And the elderly grandmother, holding the cub in her arm, loudly thanked Kirk.

Hearing no response, Ignacy put the terminal back into his pocket and sat nearby, wrapping his fleshy arm around Kirk’s shoulders. “Listen. I am not Mom or Bogdan. Not even Anissa. I can’t do this whole… motivational speech. But I know this. When one of my devices gets broken, I fix it. It takes time—weeks sometimes—but at the end, they are working just peachy. So… if you ever feel the need to talk with someone, find me. I can listen at least.”

“Thanks, Ignacy.”

“That’s what friends are for! Now, snap out of doom and gloom, and let’s think about how we are going to get back at these ice bastards for locking us inside…”

Kirk only groaned in frustration, but a smile touched his lips. It was good to be a part of a group.

****

Elzada.

“Right here, miss…”

“The name’s Elzada.” She waved the officer away, sniffing the route with her nose.

Ignacy got into trouble! Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest after seeing it in the news, and this surprised her. Elzada always viewed Ignacy more like a fleeting thing, rather than a serious soulmate. Oh, the boy was handsome, no doubt. His fur was adorable, his cheeks were simply perfect, and even their size wasn’t that far off. The divinity of his mother ran through his veins. Their cubs could be so gorgeous!

But there was something off about him. The mating rituals of the Wolf Tribe weren’t particularly complicated. Back in the day, females would simply pick any male at random to be their soulmate, regardless of their desire. But after Terrific killed her second soulmate for failing to make her some male cubs, Lacerated One, Zero, Alpha, and Dragena came to the Blessed Mother, accompanied by the Twins, and made her actually step up and rule for once. As always, Ravager refused to stay in charge for long, but some laws were implemented.

Now Wolfkins needed the agreement of both sides to form a pack. It was foolish to expect something reasonable from males, so females invented a whole ritual of showing their claws and not dominating their future mate to attract their attention. The only exception was the Season of Heat, but that was, well, heat. When a female came of age, she felt an urge to mate, readily jumping on any willing male.

And almost none of them refused free copulation. Except for Ignacy. Not only did he reject Elzada, but he also outright ignored her, asking her not to ruin his blueprints. To this day, the confusion of this moment fills her head. How could a male reject a female for something so mundane? Elzada respected his weird hobby and tried to avoid the strange buffoon, but something in his look always drew her back.

She didn’t see him as someone who would prepare breakfast for their cubs in the morning. He would sooner set the tent on fire, tinkering with new devices. But when she saw the news, Elzada leaped to Janine and almost begged her to allow her to bring Ignacy back.

I am weird.

She found him not in the cell but in the corridor, busy fixing a leak in a battery.

“Why is he here?!” she snapped at the officer.

“He asked it himself.” The officer scratched his head. “We have offered him to wait in a room, but Mister Ignacy insisted on being useful and fixed a water dispersion machine, lights in the basement, and is now…”

“Elzada!” Ignacy turned around, and his happy snout made her smile against the anger. “Glad to see you!”

“Same here. I came to pick you up. How are you doing?”

“This place is awesome! They have a library here, the food is simply magnificent, and the people are super nice.” Ignacy threw away the wrench and wiped his paws on his jacket, leaving dirty smears. “Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask something… If it is okay.”

“What about?” I swear, should he ask to stay here, I will bite him.

“I read about a cool thing in the city. Called a theater. It’s a bit similar to how artists are playing on the main squares in the settlements, but on a far grander stage. I thought… Would you like to come with me and check it out?”

“Sure.” Elzada smiled at him, and Ignacy beamed. She wrapped her arm underneath his and marched him out. “Only first we will return to the base. You need to clean yourself. Then we’ll go.”

Yes! He finally made his first move, and all on his own! Elzada dragged Ignacy to the car, not allowing him to get distracted once again, smiling from ear to ear and feeling warmth in her heart. Maybe he felt something for her after all. If so, she would be willing to find out just what sort of man he is. And maybe get five or ten cubs in the process. Yeah, cubs would be nice.

****

Anji.

Anji stepped inside the room, relieved that Janine had allowed her to leave the base. In the past few weeks, the Warlords have limited training hours for the packs. Rumors said an order came from the very top: the Third Army is here to rest and recuperate. Leaves were available at the first request, but many Wolfkins preferred to spend their time in their dens, not showing a nose behind the walls. Not Kalaisa, though.

She came clear to Anji shortly after arriving, telling her full story without hiding or lessening the harm she brought to her family. Anji wasn’t qualified to deal with this mess, but Kalaisa needed a friend, and Mom and Dad taught Anji to help anyone she could, not expecting anything in return. It saved her skin once, when she ended up making a blunder and was captured by the contrabandists, whose leader’s life she spared a year before.

And Kalaisa wasn’t a total lost cause. Not yet anyway; this much Anji was sure of. If the Tribe could tolerate someone like Terrific, it could also tolerate Kalaisa. But the Tribe could not help Kalaisa, and so the two women did the unthinkable. They asked an outsider for help.

According to all traditions, this was wrong. No matter the hardships, the Wolf Tribe always handles them on their own without bothering the normies. Shamans and the Blessed Mother have believed that normies only exist to be protected, yet Anji saw how resilient and brave they could be.

When they first came to the therapist’s office, both freaked out at the sight of Martyshkina there. But the Warlord had merely told them that everything was okay, and she too came to get help. Then she left them with the doctors.

In the past few days, Kalaisa had got out of her shell more and more, accepting banter and insults aimed at her without snapping back with claws and fangs as usual. She even pulled a few harmless pranks. Seeing her now, clothes covered in blood and brooding, soured Anji’s mood a little.

I hope our progress won’t go to waste.

“How’s Kirk?” Kalaisa sat at the table in an empty room. Anji took a seat on the opposite side of the table.

“Your brother and sister came to pick him up with Ygrite’s approval. I volunteered to bring you back. I thought it would be better if the two of you wouldn’t bump heads into each other today.”

“Oh. Right. Good idea.” Kalaisa put her legs on the chair and grabbed her knees. “I am broken, Anji.”

“The therapist didn’t think so. She said that you have anger issues, abandonment issues, and…”

“What does she know!?” Kalaisa snapped angrily. “Anji, let’s be real. Who wouldn’t abandon a waste like me? Especially after all I’ve done to my family.” She rubbed her nose.

“Kalaisa,” Anji stopped, trying to find the right words. “I am… If you are fishing for pity, I can offer none. I am your friend, but you aren’t exactly a victim when it comes to your family. They are.”

“I know it, Abyss take it! I just have no idea how to fix it!”

“You can try to apologize,” Anji suggested.

“And how do you think it would work? ‘Sorry for beating you up all these years? Kirk, remember that one time I used you as toilet paper? Or that time I nearly broke your legs? Yeah, sorry about that. We cool?’ Arghr!” Kalaisa wrapped her paws around her head and slowed her breath. For a moment, Anji thought she would pass out. “No. Asking for forgiveness puts a weight, an obligation to forgive or not, on them. I can’t… Nothing can atone for what I fucking did. The best I can do is give them a wider berth. Phase out of their lives as much as I can.”

“That may be a start.” Anji nodded, putting one paw over Kalaisa’s paw. “But it is just a start. Don’t drop the professional help. Keep reading self-help books. Regulate your anger. Keep trying to better yourself.”

“Where further?” A grin came upon Kalaisa’s face. “I am already stronger than you.”

“In your dreams, perhaps,” Anji let out a ringing laughter. She stopped, seeing how Kalaisa went silent again.

“Today is Kirk’s stupid-ass birthday. All I wanted to do was buy him a present. Instead, I have caused him to freak out.” Kalaisa bit her lower lip. “Can you ask this fucker… Bogdan, to throw up a party or something. Anything to cheer Kirk up. Tell them I’ll stay away.”

“Too late for that,” Anji said. “Ygrite has already announced a wide celebration, honoring Kirk’s and your involvement in disposing of the robbers.”

“Ain’t that great,” Kalaisa grumbled, closing her eyes. “I’ll just skulk in the shadows. Kirk and the others had enough of my shit for a lifetime. Truth be told, I don’t want to get better. I want to see them get better and happier. Myself? Didn’t earn that, Anj.”

She reached out across the table and slapped Kalaisa across the face. The amber eyes opened wide, giving birth to the flames of fury within, and Kalaisa growled, letting her claws bite into the table.

“The Abyss was that for?”

“You are a Wolf Hag, Kali,” Anji tried to speak evenly and not spurn this idiot away. “Your self-loathing won’t help anyone. Think for once. If you disappear, your pack will suffer for the lack of your strength. Unless you forgot, you saved Kirk’s life today…”

“And that fixes everything? Absolves me of guilt? Bullshit.” Kalaisa bared her fangs. “One good deed means nothing.”

“I did not imply it.” Anji ignored the desire to break the table with Kalaisa’s head. “The point is that your strength saved a life. Kirk still lives and can potentially heal the damage you caused. Skulk in the shadows instead of leading, and your pack will suffer because of a lack of leadership and training. Your family will suffer.”

“Duties,” Kalaisa groaned. “Always duties. You know, I never wanted to become a Wolf Hag. I just… snapped upon arriving in Ygrite’s pack and challenged my superior. All I wanted was to loosen up, and in a few strikes, I won and ended up commanding nearly a hundred soldiers. Me! A person with no experience. I dreamed of gleaming power armor; instead, ours are covered in rust and all cracked. Our shardguns often misfire in actual combat and even explode from time to time; that’s why Ygrite forces her pack to accept augmetics. Tracking gear is of similar quality, with radars barely working and PA’s HUD often blinking out of existence. Guess I deserve it, corroded armor, corroded soul…”

“Again with self-pity!” Anji slammed her paw onto the table. “Drop it! The power armor in your pack are rusty? Go to Chak and demand it be fixed. You were given barely working gear and weapons? To Chak you go, write a report; if he doesn’t solve the problem, write directly to Captain Cristobo; should he too drop the ball, write higher-ups. Keep pestering everyone; ask for help from the Warlords, but solve the problem! These are your soldiers; you are responsible for their well-being! Fuck Ygrite, if she is not doing anything, that doesn’t mean you have to follow in her footsteps!

“Yes. Your life is full of duties. And responsibilities. This is adult life; get used to it, because it is here to stay.” Anji allowed a bit of warmth to enter her voice. “But you don’t have to be unhappy, Kali. You can both excel in your duties and become a happy person, and this way you can help others, like Janine helped you. Maybe, no, most likely your family will never forgive you,” Anji said, telling the harsh truth. “And they have a right to that. But you can still save lives, move up, and maybe prevent someone else from ending like you. Don’t give up; tough it out to the end and let me help, ‘kay?”

Kalaisa gave a single nod. And Anji relaxed a bit, pressing a finger to her lips. From the looks of it, Kalaisa had taken her advice to heart, but leaving her just in her paws felt wrong. Dad left no one in trouble, venturing to help even in the furthest villages. And she can’t drop the situation, either.

“Capital. Get up; we go to base, clean you up, and go straight to…” She wanted to say Alpha, but decided against it. Alpha will solve the situation, of this Anji had no doubts. But she could also kill Kalaisa or Ygrite, leaving the Tribe without valuable assets. The Strongest Warlord’s foul temper was the stuff of legends. She once skinned a fellow Warlord alive and never allowed her to regrow the fur. To this day, the poor woman serves as a silent shadow in Alpha’s pack. “…Dragena and come clean to her about everything.”

“Anj, I don’t care what happens to me, but you can’t expect me to rat on my Warlord. For all her flaws, she is our leader and always risked her life to save us when our PA went faulty…”

“That is exactly what I expect from you! If I ever become as irresponsible as Ygrite, I expect you to kick my ass and report me. You know Onyxia acts like Ravager, right? She drops from the shadows, gives commands to Wolf Hags and fucks off back into darkness, never training us personally. But each time supplies come, she is meticulously checking every detail—every shardgun and every grenade. And if something is not up to her taste, Onyxia sits down, writes a report, and doesn’t leave until our gear is up to her taste. Because our lives are on the line, and this is how a Warlord should act.” Anji tapped on the table to calm herself. She hadn’t expected to be so riled up about Onyxia’s eternal absence from the pack’s life. “Here’s the thing. Dragena never raised a paw against anyone but challengers. If we go to Janine, she will try to speak with Ygrite, and barely anything will be solved. Alpha will bite our heads off. Onyxia is still on the mission, and Ashbringer hates your guts…”

“The feeling is mutual,” Kalaisa mumbled. “I am going to get this ferret one day.”

“…but Dragena is safe, and she is a problem solver. Kali, this is your duty. Our duty at this point. For the sake of soldiers under not only your command but for the sake of the entire Ygrite’s pack, we must put an end to this incompetence. Ygrite may be a genius when it comes to ambushes and traps, and maybe she is truly willing to give her life for her soldiers. All this may be true. But! We can’t allow her indifference to the gear in her pack to cost any more lives. So what is your answer, Kalaisa? Are you with me?”

“I am. But we will tell the full truth and let Dragena judge me as she will,” Kalaisa responded, and stood up, ready to move toward the exit, when a howl started spreading across the corridor.

“What in the name of the lightless Abyss’ bowels is that?”

****

A police officer.

The police officer barely had time to open the door before a giant Wolfkin stormed past him into the questioning room. Impatient One, as the woman called herself, paced around the room, looking at the sitting woman, who had a crimson implant for an eye. The reports said that these two were sisters or something, but to him, all Wolfkins looked the same.

Am I a racist? The man wondered, looking at the two women and desperately trying to find any differences between them, size aside. The same color of their natural eyes, heavy fur coverage, and even their hair looked pretty much the same.

In the past few weeks, shortly after the Third Army arrived, the situation in the city became unstable. Not because of Wolfkins; no, today’s four were the second ones to appear in custody; the first ones were Warlord Martyshkina and two of her Wolf Hags, who drunk themselves into a stupor and had to be thrown into a drunk tank for everyone’s safety.

But criminals of all kinds have become exceedingly active, either trying to evacuate sizeable sums of stolen assets or committing daring crimes, seeking to fill their pockets before escaping. Higher-ups were informed of it and put this result down to Tancred’s influence. The Sword Saint had already brought over a dozen lesser gangs to justice. In spite of essentially eliminating the major criminal life in the city, the police officer felt uneasy. It was as if some unseen storm was approaching, and no one seemed to care.

I’m probably getting paranoid. The man decided.

“You are a complete disappointment!” Impatient One fumed at Anissa.

“Listen, I can explain.” The other woman raised her paws.

“I don’t think you do.”

“No, really! People armed with guns stormed into the bank; we snapped and…”

“And you let the bloody male take the lead!” Impatient One shook her fist. “I praise Kirk for his decisiveness, but you should’ve been the one to take the lead and end the fuckers! Haven’t Mother and I taught you better than this?” She leaped on the table, ignoring the police officer’s worried look. Raising a trembling paw, Impatient One continued. “Why did you tear out a thoracic of that bastard if you weren’t going to eat him? People got scared! Kill efficiently! And why did you pull out a spine from another?”

“I…” Anissa licked her lips, “may or may not have used it like a club.”

“A… club. Instead of the noble blades you were blessed with.” Impatient One stopped talking, trembling from rage. She let out her claws, and the police officer shuddered, seeing the size of them. With a roar, Impatient One grabbed Anissa by her neck. “I will choke the life out of you for this disgrace!”

The police officer reached for a button on his belt and pressed it, summoning the riot unit. He had experience with new breeds, of course; they could commit crimes just like everyone else. New breeds were stronger and faster, and they were usually apprehended by other new breeds or shot with tranquilized darts.

But never had he seen new breeds like these. Impatient One and Anissa turned into a blurry ball, kicking, slashing, and biting each other. Their weight crashed the table, and as they rolled around, they struck the walls, making the whole room shake and leaving cracks in their wake.

“I will peel the skin off your bloody face!”

“Time to see the color of your guts!” Surprisingly, their voices did not sound angry. They reminded him of times when he and his sister played pranks on each other, swearing vengeance, only to burst into laughter.

A splash of blood fell on his face, and the police officer wondered if he should try to stop it. But how does one stop a fight when he can’t even see the fighters? Where is this damn riot squad?

He breathed with relief when officers in blue-colored power armor, armed with a large shield and maces, charged past him. Immediately, they encircled the fighters, pushing the ball of violence into the middle of the room, slammed their shields into the floor to get a better foothold, and brought down their maces. Cracking with electricity, the weapons meant to knock out suspects have landed on the black-furred forms. Again. And again.

“Is this a joke? A granny can hit harder than this!” One of Wolfkins shouted.

“Put your soul into it! You are the state’s soldiers, not some massagers!” Added the other one.

Neither of the Wolfkins even stopped their fight; they were still hacking, kicking, and biting each other as they snapped at the police officers, more annoyed at their weakness than at their intervention. One of the officers shouted a command to bring in the tranquilizer rifles.

“Anissa! I came as soon as I heard! Are you fine…” A monster straight from hell pushed into the room, moving fast on many legs; his chitin-covered body barely pushed itself through the doorway, and the newcomer coiled inside the room, raising his head to the ceiling. Pitch-black eyes looked at the scene before him. “What the horror is going on here?”

At the end, it took sixty darts before the perpetrators finally fell asleep, snorting loudly and still holding each other by the throats.