Neither were much distracted. Running and swimming left them huffing indifferently. Cool water on hot skin, misting in the dark, was also ignorable. Both were on their feet, one wringing hair, one removing reeds. The wolves were alone, finally, gone from their predators’ sight, safe –<i>somewhat</i>safe, in comparison to half hour before. Easing tension was palpable: naked shoulders dropped, adrenaline faded. Now, they could continue home, and erase what happened with sleep and other novelties. The morning later would be the time to regroup and relay. Their peace was gone, swiped for whatever reason by hunters the pack hadn’t contended before. It was as nonsensical as it was sudden, but again, it was for the next day. Manuel would know what to do, they were certain.<br/><br/>Hatu ended the quiet, and Yssa plucked the last stem off her leg. “What do you mean<i>what are we going to do</i>?” Her tone was harsher, always betracing violence of a kind. It wasn’t directed at the alpha’s seed, or Hatu, just in general. “We’re going to go home, we’re going to bathe, we’re going to maybe eat and sleep some, then we tell chief and let him figure it out.” Every face was crystal in the dark, same with her stare. The woman was always action-oriented, quick on the snare while unafraid. That attitude made things move, got things done, and was sometimes exactly what they needed.<i>This</i>– them standing around Christian in the grass – was one of those times. She focused on her ancestorkin, asking him to back her. They were all pack and never was there any denying it, yet right then, it was her trying to hurry them: Christian and fawning Klein.<br/><br/>The paler of the duo lit the darkness, hanging above him. No blood metalled air, only the scents of wilderness and stress, so he had to be alright enough to continue. He wasn’t, however, like he was too tired to stand, or maybe too shocked. Eventually, their gazes united on his body, and the white wolf gently reached for his arm. “We can’t stay here, we have to go,” she said, and her voice was velvet to Yssa’s sandpaper. “We’ll be screwed if the last follow.” That thought alone was urgent and uncomfortable. Yes, they’d ran and swam, but they had no idea what that hunter group was capable of. What if they had vehicles? What if they could track? Klein stared back the way they’d come, and tried pulling him before her hand slipped. “Please, get up. You’re not hurt, right?” The gun pressed to him rippled in all their minds, how close it’d been, how deadly it could’ve gotten.<br/><br/>Yssa grumbled, and her eye-roll was audible. She loitered a minute or so, scanning their surroundings, and then started on. Slow and silent, she watched deer zip out of her path, and considered shredding one. She didn’t care for the meat, so it wasn’t to eat, it was to unleash tensions. “We shoulda killed at least a single hunter to get their comms. An inside ear woulda helped,” she talked to none particularly, “or getting an idea of where the hell they’re from.” As a person, she was very retaliatory…<i>extremely</i>, even. She beat hard knuckles into an equally hard palm, the meaty<i>thucks</i>caused an owl to flee. “They smelled dirty. I bet from the city and someone was pretty close to the filthy Hudson; near a bridge, or something. Fucking nasty.” If Klein had Christian on his feet and caught up, she would add: “It doesn’t matter where they’re from, we go to them and we’ll be slaughtered for real, Yssa. We’re the only four wolves left out of everyone. Don’ t be dumb.”<br/><br/>“<i>Don’t be dumb</i>,” the woman frogged, “says the wolf whose white ass fur got us spotted. Keep your ass at home, you’re a hindrance.”