Victoria
Nighttime amongst the thick deciduous forest had been rather brutal at times. Had it not been for the thick canopy above always covering majority of the blue above, the fact that winter was upon the land had made the nights even more harsher. Temperatures dropped several degrees below freezing point, and snow clung to thicker branches and crevices the trees above have to offer. This... Had made hunting rather difficult for a person who was used to hunting game, but also, lead to other ways of discovering prey.

The smell of wood-fired smoke carried in the area. Normally one could easily assume that it would have been a great fire hazard to start a fire so deep in the thicket of the woods, but considering the trees were plenty hydrated that concern was easily diminished as long as the fire was contained and it was allowed to vent properly.

Once one was able to get closer to the warmth, the sounds of guns going off and screams were able to be discerned as well as the smell of blood. 

*"AHAHAHA! Ouch! You know if I had a choice, I wouldn't make the choice to indulge in human meat. Sometimes your meat is fatty, and other times its tough. But you know, its a dog eat dog world.~"* A grin flashed to the bandits who stood facing the odd shirtless man only wearing a pair of ripped black pants, carrying a lifeless bandit by the scruff of his shirt who's neck had been slashed open with claw marks. Flaps of skin hung off the side of his neck, and it was easy to see that Fostaros was using him as a shield. There were several cuts open on Fostaros's skin as well, though none too deep that were to cause a lot of concern; belied by the amount of crimson smeared across already severely scarred skin.

[N]: *"Where the fuck did you even come from?! We were perfectly hidden!"* One of the bandits exclaimed in his surprised stupor, to which gleaming yellow eyes cut over to stare at him.

*"Huh? Prey always leaves a scent behind. You should know better than to*

*Burn a fire in a forest full of predators."* Fostaros's tongue glazed over long fangs, flicking a thick appendage behind his already towering form. His eyes shifted between the five bandits that were left, two of them more fancily decorated than the others. Not that Fos paid any mind to how they dressed though. All he cared about was the harvest, and also maybe the money they had possibly stored in the crates stashed in their wagon.
Manuel
Another night, Another bounty to try and track down. It was just another routine case of some bandits messing with a merchant's shipment, hoping to get some gold off of selling the goods or ransoming the whole shipment. A woman sat on a branch within the canopy of trees above, taking a long drag of a tobacco product she'd been fancying recently. The beams of moonlight that managed to break through the layers of leaves reflected off of the light blue bob and her matching wolven ears, which twitched as she picked up sounds in the distance, almost as if her quarry was fighting. With another drag of the tobacco, she expertly maneuvered her way down the branches until she was at a safe enough height to drop down into the thick snow below. Her neck popped as she stretched and her arms swung around to loosen up. Then, in an instant, she was running towards the source of the sounds. She knew she wasn't far, but she still wanted to keep an initial distance to have an eye on them. When the sound of gunfire rang out, scaring the slumbering wild life, the woman hastened until she reached just before the edge of the clearing. 

A nerve was clearly struck as she observed the scene in front of her. One of the bandits was clearly deceased as the other five scrambled to get a proper grasp on their situation. And standing above all of them was another half-wolf much like herself. And this half-wolf was fucking up her bounty. She needed the cargo and the two well dressed men in order to get paid, and by the looks of it the assailant was going to kill them. 

A blade rushed by Fostaros's head, slicing through the air like a whisper in his ear, and striking one of the bandits in the head. Emerging from the thicket was a woman in a dark green jacket that fell to her mid thighs, a black top, and dark gray pants. A fluffy, light blue tail twitched behind her in annoyance, but if that wasn't a give away, then the golden eyes that were narrowed towards Fostaros would be a very clear indicato

R of her displeasure.

"Get the fuck away from my bounty, mutt," Lucille shouted.
Victoria
Fostaros began to lift the body he was holding back and up into the air, assumedly to chuck it at the ones on their guard... Had something sharp not wizzed past his ear and struck one of the bandits in the head. A soft ear flick acknowledged the sudden sting he now felt like it had been cut by paper, causing Fostaros to turn his head over his shoulder to stare at the one responsible. A female? Wait... She also had ears and a tail. A she-wolf? And was there something about a bounty?

Head turned back towards the bandits, and he connected the dots. There was however, annoyance that crawled up his spine which caused him to roll them. *"Hah? Your bounty? Snooze you fucking lose, she-wolf. I got here first. This prey is mine. How about **You** Go away?"* He'd turn his head back to the stranger, and without a warning he'd chuck the dead bandit in his hand in her direction.

Just as he did so, the bandits would start shooting again, whilst the two bandits dressed more fancily had scurried into the back of the wagon to hide. Fostaros would pounce onto one of the bandits as the barrel of his gun pressed into his abdomen. A quick snatching of its length and a redirection had saved his internal organs, the gun going off and a bullet ripping through his side. No audible noises would escape the seemingly wild man, instead sinking his fangs into the mans neck like a rabid animal. 

A deep, gutteral growl quaked within his larynx, snapping his eyes to the sight of yet another light appearing. It was from a hand poking out of the back of the wagon, a bright fire appearing and growing. That fucker was trying to scorch them!
Manuel
"What the fuck" Lucille muttered under her breath. She inspected the bandit's body before her, nudging it with her foot. If she really wanted to be lazy, she could could simply grab this body and bring it back to fulfill her contract. But something within her felt a heavy, ***Heavy*** Annoyance that someone else was interfering. It urged her to go after the nearly feral half-wolf man and plant a good fist right into his nose. 

But before she could make the movement to do so, he had lunged after another bandit, tearing into his neck as the bandit shot into Fostaros's side, to no avail. Lucille was shocked to see no response to the pain of a bullet wound, finding herself wondering if only *Half* Wolf was the right term for the interfering stranger, who certainly seemed more *Feral wolf* Than anything else. She could already smell the blood beginning to seep from his side, warm, sharp, and with plentiful of iron. Then, her eyes snapped to the wagon, where flames began to engulf it. Her legs moved on her own across the field, snow crunching under her boots until they'd landed on the front of the wagon. She stood dark and imposing over the two more fancily dressed bandits, who could no longer escape the flames from the front of the wagon. Golden eyes narrowed once more and a smirk crept up to her lips, tugging at the edge of her mouth until it revealed a sharp fang. Trapped and caught, like mice in a trap, with the heat of the flames creeping up to make them increasingly uncomfortable.