I clear the black cat in front of me. He swipes at my tail, leaving a trail of fire as he tips it.

Grand. Tails don’t grow back. Hope he didn’t take it off.

Immediately, the sounds of a quiet and watchful forest are hushed as water encapsulates me. Water immediately chills me to the bone. The mishmash of cuts and bites from the Werecats sting like a thousand wasps, but the cold has an unexpected effect; the pain numbs, leaving my mind clearer.

I push my head back above the glassy surface and shake the water from my ears, trying to re-find the spot—there! I doggy paddle to the bubbles that still rise in irregularity, leaving me hope the cub is yet alive.

I suck in a deep breath and dive. The water is murky and dank, the moon above barely penetrating the gloom. I glance frantically about as my lungs protest.

Nothing. My body forces me above the surface. I gasp in a deep breath, then dive once more, looking for something... anything.

There! A small cluster of bubbles. My tail flicks in a circular motion as I dive further. This pond deeper than I expected; diving fifteen feet without even a hint of the bottom is causing a bit of panic to flare, but I tamp it down for the sake of the one I'm chasing.

I glimpse something that shouldn’t be there. A slight silver glow comes from about ten feet further down. With one last push, I reach her. Her eyes are closed—she’s as still as death, gently swaying in the reeds that embrace her.

No, no, NO! I didn’t come this far, only to have her die on me. I quickly phase, uncaring of the grime and algae sticking to my bare skin. I grab her muzzle in my hands and breathe life into her nose. She twitches slightly, giving me a vague hope.

I hook my arm under her chest and front paws. She feels slimy and algae clings to her paws. I kick off, pulling her as swiftly as my legs will carry us. My lungs burn, causing me to push harder. Black spots dance before my eyes as my mind demands I suck in anything before me: including the water. I fight against the instinct, knowing it would kill me that much quicker. I finally spot a small pinpoint of light right before breaking the surface.

I gulp in air, allowing my body a quick, but small, break. I look to see the little one is but limp, her tongue hanging blue from her lips.

Absolutely not.

You aren't dying on my watch, little one.

What do you think you can do, Mutt? She's already gone. I attempt to ignore the voice that invades, sounding suspiciously like my old Masters.

There's always hope. Don't give up. The typical cynical voice intercedes, sending encouragement and courage through my veins.

Kill me now. Are you actually encouraging me?

You needed it. She needs it. You can do this.

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I can do this. I draw us the ten strokes to the edge of the water. Teeth gently grasp my arms and her neck as the cats pull us from the water. I cough up water I didn’t know was in my lungs as the five Weres form a circle around the smaller cat, who could be all but sleeping if not for the lack of motion at her ribs.

I shake the water from my ears, staggering to my feet, conscientious that the seaweed is lending me a false semblance of modesty. While I was distracted coughing my lungs up, the Weres have drawn the little one further up into a grassy knoll surrounded by late-blooming wildflowers. A peaceful place to rest. But not to die.

The black and grey Weres part so that I can stagger to the side of the little one. I collapse to my knees. The mother mewls plaintively from beside me, nudging her little one with a soft embrace.

Rolling her over onto her side, she flops lifelessly on the cold-hard ground. I begin compressions on her chest that I often did at the Masters' behest when the Apprentices would be pushed too far. I compress her ribs, causing the blood to flow in her veins, pumping her heart for her. I continue for many seconds that feel like hours, then blow air into her nose. Nothing. Again I compress. Then breathe for her. Again. No sign of any movement. Nothing.

“Come on! You can survive this. Fight!” I shout. The little one before me changes, dwarfing into the form of a little wolf with blue eyes. "You're too young, Alec. Stay with me." I whisper, my past and my present a whirlwind, until all I know is that the one before me must live. Has to. There is no other choice.

I push harder, feeling a rib crack beneath the pressure. That tells me I’m going hard enough. The mother finally has enough and pushes her nose between me and her baby. I push her out of the way and continue until a low growl and teeth grip my arm firmly but without piercing skin. They clench my arm just a bit harder; I'm jerked from my daze as a molar pierces my arm, leaving a small puncture wound that breaks me from the trance.

I turn to find the black cat staring at me eye to eye. His shimmering blue eyes are filled with a mixed range of emotion: compassion, anger, confusion, fear, sorrow.

I shake my head, my ears ringing. I still see Alec's blue eyes before me. I still see the moment he died.

"Not you too." I whisper to the little one, lifeless before me.

The black cat gives a slight shake of his head, causing his wild mane to fly. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then stagger to my feet and turn to go as my throat clogs with unexpected emotion. They part to allow me from their circle, no longer intent on killing me. I almost wish they would, just so that something would take my mind off the tiny cub.

I punch a tree, causing bark to fly. My bleeding knuckles let me know the folly of that measure, but the physical hurt combats the painful rage growing inside. I lean against the tree. Another I couldn’t save. Another I failed to protect. Another... a sharp intake of breath from behind breaks through my thoughts.

I instantly turn back to the circle of white, black, silver, and grey. They all seem to move closer to the center, then the black glances back at me with something akin to surprise and awe. He jerks his head towards the little one.

I am afraid to hope. A small kitten mewl causes me to break into a limping jog. I lean on the black, leaving a smear of red. The tiny cub jerks... then coughs, hacking up water and algae.

I take a deep, sighing breath (the first in many minutes) and promptly collapse on top of the black, the relief palpable as the adrenaline fades. The mother purrs and continues to reassure her kitten, licking her face and rubbing her jaw in a show of affection.

The black turns back to me with unspoken questions: questions I have no answers for. Why save a Were from the pride that’s trying to kill you? I shrug at him and wince as it pulls the lacerations along my chest and back.

I try to turn to leave, but I’m shaking like a leaf in autumn and my broken ankle gives as I put weight on it. I grunt as the black catches me, allowing me to fall on his back.

I ease myself to the ground before I topple over. The Black quietly limps away, leaving me in a pool of moonlight. My wounds stitch back together under the healing of the moon, and I feel the bleeding stop. A bone deep weariness sets in and I think of nothing except sleep, despite my mind screaming that to do so could mean death with hostile Were around.