Mouse
Mouse sat on her bed, playing idly with Fafnir's ears.
Gonna go hunting later?
Yeah, probably. There's some really stupid rabbits around.
Well, that's good to hear. You know, that you're eating well.
Oh yeah. Enough things that I can eat. Nothing with collars or in a cage, I know. And I haven't been. Been good.
That's good.
And not hunting near crazy Alpha's place.
What have I told you about calling him that?
Not to do it, but he is!
He's not. He just...
And why were you mating with a Beta? Well, he could be an Alpha, I guess, but he's younger! Not as strong. Unable to take care of pups as well.
Faf, I...
Mouse shook her head. She still didn't understand the sleeping with Zac part herself. On retrospect, inviting him into her room had been a stupid idea. But Zac needed somewhere to talk privately...and then his *need* had just reached out and latched onto her until all she wanted was to make sure he wasn't hurting anymore. She knew, with a certain stillness, that Taylor could never forgive her this. And all she'd wanted to do was help a friend...her and Zac could really never be anything else.
To her...sex didn't mean much. Never had. She just hadn't met anyone she'd *wanted*. She was...she knew what she wasn't, and she wasn't normal. As she kept saying, some of her was just more animal then anyone seemed to realise. Sex? Never a big deal to an animal, but she knew Taylor wouldn't understand it. Like he didn't understand her hunting, or why she *needed* to hunt. It was a Pack thing, and even if he'd been accepted, he didn't understand. How could he? He didn't feel the pull of the Pack in his bones and the howl in his head ringing out from snow covered forests and down the ages, the thrill of chasing and then the shock lunge of triumph as you pounced and tore the prey to pieces...
Maybe she was too warped to ever get along in what people liked to call the real world.
Pack?
Mouse smiled and hugged Fafnir before getting off the bed. He stood and stretched as she went to her closet. Then the world exploded in a shatter of glass, a howl of pain and then something snapped, broke loose, never to return.
"FAFNIR!"
"Operation complete, returning to base," a crisp voice said into a mobile phone before the sniper got off the rof and got into his car and drove away.
Strange gig really. Why would someone want you to shoot a dog?
Clarissa burst into the room to find Mouse howling her grief, eyes wide and blank as Fafnir panted a few more breaths, then went limp, eyes glazed over with death. Bets howled, a torrent of loss.
"Oh...shit. Mouse. Mouse. MOUSE!"
Mouse ignored her and continued to scream as a part of her was ripped away into death. She wouldn't let go of his body as it cooled in her arms, blood painted over her face and dripping over her clothes from the hideous bulletwound. When Clarissa tried to take the wolf from her, she barely escaped with her fingers as Mouse's knife flashed wickedly.
Mouse's screams quieted into sobs as she rocked and mourned.
Clarissa shook her head and put cardboard over the window. She'd try something again later. At least get her to wash, try and make her give up Fafnir for burial, something.
Why hadn't she heard this coming?