Pain. It shot through his arm, his side and even his hip. The spear had been used far too close to them, but the bastards gave him little choice. The plan had been perfect, it should have gone off without a hitch, but instead he and his pack themselves ambushed. Men and women armed to the teeth, drew weapons and fired on them. Howls of pain and death filled the air, the pack caught off guard until the Alpha rallied them. His howl cut above the others and organization came from within the chaos, together they fought and began to push back the attackers. They could do this, they would do this and then they would feast victoriously on the flesh of their enemy. That was the plan, but of course the day was not how it was supposed to be.<br/><br/>Fire was brought into the mix in the form of cocktails that coated ground and fur alike. Driven into a near panic, the pack began to break apart, even as the Alpha did his best to maintain order. How it happened, Ruffus is still not sure, but all that matters in the end is that it happened and they were screwed.<br/><br/>A yelp rang out and the distinct smell of burning fur and flesh stung their nostrils. The yelp turned into screams of pain that no one ever thought a wolf could make as the Alpha was engulfed in flames. Movement halted, save for the flames and frantic actions of their leader who tried extinguish the flames but to no avail. Orange and red embers rolled up his fur it was horrifying to behold, and it was Ruffus who reacted first.<br/><br/>“ARHHHHHH!” he cried out his spear hurled at the suffering Alpha. The shaft flew true and on impact the explosion finally released the poor beast from its suffering. Chaos once again was unleashed within the group and they fought with a new purpose.<br/><br/>Vengeance.<br/><br/>Tooth and claw, they fought with reckless abandon their goal now to kill the humans no matter the cost. On his last spear, covered in blood, mostly not his own he threw it at the ground before him and his last two pack mates. The explosion threw them back and killed some of those that remained, when they came two he did the only thing he knew to do and that was run. Now, they were on their own and he would have to do what was needed to ensure they survived. He was the Alpha now and they were his pack, time to get them the help they needed. Which meant getting himself patched up, getting them some supplies and some food.<br/><br/>Which is what led to this situation.  The pistol in his hand had been drawn on instinct, after he jogged up the entrance to what looked like a base. A group was gathered there though he paid them no mind, instead he went to the guards who at first might have seemed concerned, but the sight of the two large mutant wolves lopping in behind the man caused them to draw their weapons. This is turn had his drawing his own and they were in a regular stand off as he growled at the men with the wolves and held the gun unwavering feeling as if they had stepped out the frying pan and into the fucking fire pit.