The sun is high overhead and the three of them are in a golden field of wheat---the terrain an expanse of shallow waves as the wind continues to roll by. They are far from the previous battle, away from the immediate threat of attack. The vegetation is matted down all around them as Wolf lies on his back and Jack looks back towards the mountains. Sarah is poking the arrowhead sticking out of Wolf’s shoulder, noticing that the wound healed around it. She shakes her head and stands as Wolf looks at her questioningly.

  “How many do you think died back there?” Jack asks.

  Sarah looks the same direction and seems to consider. “Well, they were likely marching about three wide and maybe two feet between each row. So if that fire trap was a mile long, that would put the total somewhere between I don’t fucking know and do the math.”

  Jack looks around smiling, then looks down at Wolf. “Seems like we’re going to lose at least one more, though.”

  Sarah nods, her expression grave. “Yeah, *wood poisoning*. Rough way to go.”

  “What are you two going on about?” Wolf complains. “This isn’t fatal.”

  “He’s right, Jack. If we remove it, there’s still a chance.”

  “Well, alright,” Jack replies. “As long as we think there’s a chance.”

  Wolf glances between them, then shakes his head. “Forget it. I’ll just pretend it’s not there.” He tries to sit up when Sarah straddles him and descends, her knees pressing down on each shoulder as she shimmies out of her coat. “What are you doing?” he complains as he tries to buck her off.

  “Jack, push down above his knees so he can’t kick.”

  Jack nods and moves behind her as she unwinds some of her scarf and makes a loop with the material.

  Wolf’s chest rises and falls rapidly. He tries to reach his arms up, only to have her shift her knee down his bicep, pinning the arm and extending her other foot into the crook of his opposite elbow. She leans down to the arrowhead and loops the tail of her scarf around the shaft, crossing the fabric on her side. She gives it a testing tug, pulling upward on the scarf to see the arrowhead barbs hooking over the material.

  Sarah nods and sits back up while still gripping the fabric. Wolf’s eyes are wide as he anticipates the very painful removing of a band-aid in an awkward place.

  “Now, Wolf,” she begins, “we’ve had some pretty awkward exchanges, but this morning you out-did yourself when you licked me in the face and at a time when my mouth was open. I’m pretty sure that’s some sort of assault.”

  Wolf struggles. “There were enemies! I was *trying* to be quiet!”

  “Yeah, and I notice you’re not doing that now, so let me finish. You’ve continued to rebel and cause trouble even though all I’ve ever done was try to make you feel welcome. So I’m just not sure I can trust you.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” he asks, looking around. “Jack? I need some help here.”

  “Now, I know that if I asked you to tell me what all you don’t like about me, we’d be here well past sunset, so we’re not going to do that.”

  “I don’t ha---”

  “Uh uh,” she says, waving her index like a metronome. “I’m going to give you *one* chance to answer this, because *I* want to hear a compliment. And *you* really need to sell it to me. You’re gonna want me to believe you here, because if I *don’t*... well, we can circle back to that. So tell me, Wolf, what’s the single greatest thing about me?”

  Wolf’s eyes fill with horror as his fate begins to teeter on the edge of a compliment. Desperate for a lifeline, he turns in search of Jack, but he’s not there. Wolf suddenly grits his teeth in pain, his right eye squints, and his right palm smacks the ground as tears stream out of his squinting eye. He yells, and the sound morphs into a howl.

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  Jack walks back around as Sarah is holding the broken arrow in her hand and studying it. She finally nods. “I agree, Wolf. It’s gotta be my unpredictability.”

  Wolf glares at her as he continues to hyperventilate. “More like *volatility*,” he complains. “What the hell ever happened to three-counts? It’s a classic for a reason!”

  “You’re right,” she says, patting Wolf on the chest and extending the arrow out towards Jack. “Come, put this back in so we can do the three count.” She raises slightly as she reaches, and Wolf takes the opportunity to scamper out from under her.

  Wolf spins to his feet, claws exposed and ready to pull legs off spiders.

  Sarah moves back over beside Jack and elbows him in the side. “Hey, so what do you think? Will he find a corner to sulk in or charge at us all mad like?”

  Jack smiles. “Déjà vu. But I think he’ll charge this time. Bets?”

  Sarah seems to consider, then holds up five fingers and Jack nods.

  Wolf’s face softens, the anger melting away as his stare goes distant.

  “Did you break him?” Jack asks.

  Wolf wheezes, then covers his mouth, looking at the two of them as Sarah arches an eyebrow. He wheezes again, air forcing through his hand like that of an untied a balloon. His hand falls away, and he grips his knee as he lets out a long wheeze.

  “Is he about to give birth?” Jack asks.

  Sarah knocks her knuckles against Jack’s arm and shakes her head. “No, he’s not pregnant.”

  “Yeah, but how do you know?”

  She points to his belly. “Because you can see his dingy every time he stands up.”

  “Dingy?” Jack asks, raising an eyebrow. “Could be a birth defect?”

  Sarah weighs the information, then nods. “Alright, we won’t rule it out.”

  “You’re---,” Wolf starts between wheezes. “Bat-shit crazy.” His wheeze descends into his belly, and he begins to laugh with big gulps of air.

  Sarah glares. “What the hell was all that wheezing if you can actually laugh like normal people?”

  “Normal?” Jack asks.

  Sarah looks back at Wolf and then teeters her open hand. “Meh.”

  “I was---” Wolf tries. “---doing it wrong.” The ‘wrong’ coming out as a squeall. He tries to regain his composure, but every time the laugh recedes, he looks at Sarah and it builds back stronger than before. His side aches and he grips it as the pain spreads.

  Sarah’s nose scrunches. “How the hell do you get laughing wrong?” She turns to look back over at Jack and thumbs over to Wolf. “You wanna take off someplace until he gets his shit together?”

  Wolf starts choking and covers his mouth.

  “Probably need to stick around in case he needs medical attention.”

  Wolf begins a really deep cough, sounding like he’s trying to spit up something located inside his ankles. He dry heaves as the other two step further away from him. His cough finally lodges something in his throat, then he spits out a golf ball sized wad of hair.

  Wolf freezes, still gripping his knees, and looks back at the other two. Sarah quickly steps behind Jack as he raises his arm up to shield from something unsightly.

  “What the fuck is that?” Sarah asks, pointing from behind Jack.

  Wolf’s eyes pass back and forth, feeling like a pedestrian that just stepped in wet cement where all the construction workers are now looking at him. “That wasn’t me,” he says, his eyes growing wide as he hears the gruff sound absent from his voice. His hands immediately go back over his mouth.

  “Really, dude? You now have a new laugh and a new voice?” She turns back to Jack and shakes her head. “I don’t know this guy, Jack. We better start over on the whole, adding him to our crew bit.”

  Jack nods. “He’s back outside of the trust circle. Good call.”

  “Come on, guys,” Wolf complains, pausing to digest the new sound. “It’s not like I can help it. You think I wanted this?”

  “Great,” Sarah says. “Now, every time he talks, I’m going to think a boy-band is giving an intro for their next dance routine.”

  Wolf’s expression falls as the cuts continue to wear. He doesn’t reply, simply pressing his lips into a line.

  Sarah walks forward, cautious of Wolf’s former throat dweller. She raises up on her toes, places her hand above her eyes like a visor and squints towards Wolf’s shoulder. “Is that thing healed yet? This distraction is getting tedious.”

  Wolf blinks abruptly, as if just being swatted on the nose without seeing it coming. He turns to look down at the closed wound on his shoulder, then back to them, letting go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He turns back to her and shakes his head. “You manipulative son-of-a-bitch,” he replies.

  Sarah weighs the response, then nods. “I’ll allow it. You might be a Bieber-sounding asshole now, but you're *our* Bieber-sounding asshole.”

  The top of Wolf’s lip quivers, and he takes a step towards them.

  Sarah marches forward as well, draws her pistol, aims, and fires. Repeatedly.

  Wolf folds his arms over his head, trying to cover his ears as she empties the clip while aiming at the ground. “What are you doing?” he complains as her slide locks back.

  Sarah shakes her head. “I’ve seen this movie,” she replies. “We all skip into the sunset and this thing comes back to eat us. *Plot twist*. Not happening; not on my watch. Next, I think we need to cut it into quarters and bury the parts in separate locations with a ring of salt around the graves.”

  Wolf extends his hands with the palms upright and together as he gestures towards the ground. “It’s *just* hair.”

  “Are you kidding me? I bet we can find a pulse on that thing if we look hard enough.”

  Wolf cups his hands over his snout and turns to walk away.

  “Don’t go far,” Sarah yells. “You’re the one that’s gonna be burying this thing!”