Arrogance clung to Lofgren's bulky form like a thick musk. It hovered, a suffocating miasma of egotism that seemed to choke the breath from Blue's lungs. He turned away, reluctant to stare at the beast any longer than he had to. "You don't fucking know anything about him," Blue growled. It didn't surprise him to hear of Lofgren's respect regarding Eivind's late father. From the stories it seemed Ivar was relentless, ruthless, aggressive. All qualities Lofgren would laud in another wolf. Eivind harbored these own qualities within himself, Blue knew this, but he directed these intense and violent energies into protecting his mate. Lofgren might believe Eivind would simply roll over for a larger, stronger wolf, but Blue knew the truth. Eivind would fight to the death if he had to.<br/><br/>Blue's limbs stiffened as the alpha approached. He was wooden, glued to the floor with anticipation and fear. As the wolf smelled him, Blue couldn't help but wonder if Lofgren was remembering the scent only so he could attempt to cover it up later. A disgusting thing to do to another wolf's mate. The pinnacle of disrespect. To sully the sacred mark of another wolf was to break an unspoken law among werewolves. Blue had come to learn this lesson and others during his time with Eivind. But, as Lofgren liked to remind him, Blue was not wolf. As far as he was considered, those old laws didn't apply to humans.<br/><br/>The first kink in the human's plan came the moment Lofgren opened the door and presented to him a means of escape. It wasn't something Blue had expected, but he should have. Lofgren loved the hunt. He wouldn't settle for allowing Stellan to have all the fun tracking the boy down. Crying and whimpering could only arouse Lofgren so much. The real rush came from the chase... how could Blue have forgotten that?<br/><br/>He stood, slowly. He couldn't opt to stay in the cabin. It wouldn't make any sense and could potentially arouse suspicion, the last thing they needed. He couldn't go for the hidden knife, not while Lofgren's eyes were on him. He had no other choice. He had to play Lofgren's game. He had to adapt.<br/><br/>"Fuck you," Blue spat as he sprinted out the door, past Stellan and Sig as they hovered around the cabin's perimeter. Blue hoped they would catch his scent on the air.<br/><br/>He was faster than he had been the first time Lofgren had made him run. Stronger, healthier, more experienced. He remembered the dozens of times he and Eivind had played in the woods. He remembered how Eivind had hunted him, taught him how to evade and confuse. Sweat dripped in crooked paths along Blue's long throat, his heart pulsed at a terrifying pace as he disappeared into a cluster of trees. If Lofgren wanted a hunt, it was in his best interest to give the alpha what he wanted. At least for now.<br/><br/>Zigzagging through the woods was easy enough. Blue would twist and turn as randomly as he could manage, criss-crossing over where he had already run to make his own scent more difficult to track. Along the way, Blue tore off his shirt, tossing it up and over a high tree branch. Whereas he had stripped with Eivind in order to leave markers and hints, this time the clothing would be intended as a red herring, a strong pocket of smell to attract the eager hunter and pull him away from Blue's true location.<br/><br/>As he ran, body drunk on adrenaline, the tears began to flow again. He wanted Eivind.