When Blue's eyes finally settled enough to focus he realized he was in Lofgren's cabin, on the bed. Someone must have brought him here after Garlan's attack. Alden, most likely, as he was the only one who ever cared for the boy's needs.<i>Why couldn't the fucker just let me die</i>, Blue thought bitterly. He inhaled, feeling his side scream in response, and winced at the pain. This was worse than Lofgren's attack, so much worse, and all Blue wished for in that moment was a steady supply of pain meds to dull the fire. Maybe if he asked Alden nicely, the wolf would be willing to procure some for him.<br/><br/>Speaking of which, where was Alden? Blue felt another at his side, staring, and turned his head, expecting to see Alden's familiar face looking down on him as it so often did. But the man next to him was not Alden. He wasn't even a member of Lofgren's pack, at least not one that Blue had ever seen. It was extremely unlikely that Alden would allow a stranger to care for Blue after his injury, especially with Blue in such a fragile state, so why was this stranger staring at him with that odd look in his eyes?<br/><br/>"Who the fuck are you?" Blue groaned, the effort from his words already slightly more than Blue could handle. He allowed his eyes to travel over the man, who by his appearance and nudity Blue discerned must have been another fucking werewolf, and pick apart all his details. This one was fit, like the rest of them, but far leaner than Lofgren, with hair just as dark and a short, attractive beard. The man's sharp features were rather striking; certainly Blue would remember this wolf if he had seen him before. He was one of the better-looking ones, but his outward appearance mattered very little to Blue. A werewolf was a werewolf, which means this stranger, whoever he was, was Blue's enemy and not to be trusted.<br/><br/>Blue tried to sit up but was once again overwhelmed with a searing amount of pain. He collapsed back onto the bed with heavy, labored breaths and closed his eyes tightly for a moment, his fingers clutching the dirty blankets beneath him. "Where's Alden?" Blue asked, wanting to know what had happened, what had Garlan done, where was everyone now? How long had he been unconscious? When the pain subsided the smallest bit, Blue released the blankets and tenderly dragged his fingers along the spot where Garlan had bit him and gasped in horror at what he felt. He looked down, twisting his neck so that he would have a better view of the mess that was his torso, covered in dried blood with twine weaved through his flesh. Whatever Alden had done, it had been in desperation, and Blue's body looked like some kind of macabre Frankensteinian experiment where Alden had attempted to sew him back together.<br/><br/>"Where the hell is Alden?!" Blue asked angrily, his voice high pitched and inflamed. "What the hell is this? And why are<i>you</i>here?!" Blue's smoky eyes looked up at the stranger now, wide and frantic, his heavy brows furrowing together as he waited for a response. The boy's face was ashen for the most part, but a small dots of pink graced either cheekbone as Blue stared. Why was the wolf looking at him like that? Why did Blue feel like there was something exceptionally odd about this one?