Words. Movement and the delicious smell of fresh meat worked to confuse the wounded and desperate man. Wolves at his back growled and prodded for him to act, urged him to take action and defend what was left of their pack. It was all he could do to stop himself from pulling the trigger. The steel beneath his finger a sharp contrast to the heat that radiated from his flesh. His wound, likely infected now, how brought on a fever which made it, even more, difficult for him to stay focused. Sweat thick and permeated with his desperation beaded on his brow and rolled down to gather along the scruff of a beard on his face.<br/><br/>A nervous glance from the hulk of a beast that offered him meat, the guards who seemed unsure of what to do and then to the woman who spoke as if she knew him. It was now that he focused on her, eyes keen and calculating sized her up while his fevered mind searched his databank known as a brain for an answer.<br/><br/>How did she know him?<br/><br/>It was her mole that triggered the memory. The curl of her lip as she gazed at him in a cold, predatory and calculating manner. They had met before and he was relieved that he defied his Alpha that day and had it pay off. The woman had begun to snipe them from afar, the dog a distraction most had been tasked to deal with, but he and a few others were sent to eliminate the one with the gun. Bow and arrow in hand, he stalked with his packmates to where she waited. Arrow notched and prepared to start the fight with a clean wounding kill he found his actions halted. The bow shook and trembled from the restrained tension as he merely stood there and looked at her.<br/><br/>The first woman of his kind that he had gotten a good look at. All the others they had seen were often older, or so quickly dispatched he never had a chance to look openly at them. Yet, here was a female of his kind. A strong and skilled one, who sought to defy his pack on her own. Strength, courage and loyalty are what the wolves valued, which made this woman a near perfect representation of these ideals. The wolves with him, impatient for him to shoot to start the attack, nipped at his heel and caused him to loose the arrow. Fortunately, it was wide and missed the mark but it was a signal none the less so off charged the wolves with him left alone to stare off at a loss for what to do. Rooted in his place, his feet dug into the hot dirt of the wastelands. Shots were fired, a yelp went out but it was only when she screamed in pain that he acted. Feet charged forth, bearing the man with them with clear purpose he tackled one wolf from her. Stunned the beast staggered a bit, so he ran over and did the same with the other who had managed to clamp down on her flesh. A tussle, a rumble and desperate squabble ensued which allowed her monstrous mutt to return. Chased off, Ruffus and he wolves ran back to the pack while the woman was dragged off by her companion. It was the last time he saw her and he hoped that she had been alright.<br/><br/>Now, here she was pointing a gun at him. Funny how things came full circle.<br/><br/>“No fight. I want trade for food and help. Trade my help. Wolves my friends…my family….they won’t hurt anyone. I swear…” he pleaded with the guards and the woman who had her gun still on him. “Please. No fight…” though even as he said it, his hand that clutched at his side slipped into the pouch in his shirt to hold the last bit of explosives he had left, his thumb allowed to rest atop the detonator. This shit went sour and they wanted to kill him, then he would be sure he would kill more than a few of them on his way out. That was for sure.