“Run!” Denza shouted – there was nothing else to do. He knew they had no chance against the poison or their larger opponents. Blindly, hoping the others reacted as quickly, he darted to his right and dashed into the underbrush – horrified to realize one of the wolves was close on his hocks.

A squeal from the clearing behind him reached his ears, but he pushed onward, his muscles burning and his heart throbbing as he whipped between trees, leaped over fallen trunks, eyes darting all about, looking for a clearer path. He could hear the breathing of his attacker close by but knew better than to turn his head to look. Snarls from far behind cut through the air and Denza found himself hoping that Lorza had not tried to defend the black pup.

He howled in pain as something slashed into his side, grabbing onto his hindquarters. He was forced onto the ground, tearing and slashing at his attacker through the brush, ignoring the pain in his back as he was slammed into dozens of small stones littered all over the forest floor.

He snarled into the larger wolf's face, snapping jaws at each other in the air as he kicked at the wolf's underside with his hind claws. The wolf lunged again and again at Denza's face and he turned to the side, jaws clacking in the air. Denza's heart felt about to burst – his poor health had him at a massive disadvantage.

He cried out as the larger wolf suddenly bit into his ruff just behind his head. Denza rolled about, tossing and turning, flailing furiously as the wolf shook his head mightily. Denza took a deep breath before rolling roughly over once more onto his back, yanking his bewildered opponent down with him. With a yelp, the dark-coated wolf released Denza and the grey male took off once more through the trees, panting furiously, leaving the disoriented and sick wolf shaking his head as he staggered about.

Denza's breath came in rapid, dry coughs as he fought to run forward, on and on through the trees. He had no idea which way the sea was – for all he knew he could have been heading right back into the heart of the forest. Panicked, horrified at the thought of being attacked from any angle, he looked side to side – where were the trees denser? Darker?

A loud caw rang through the forest and Denza slowed to a trot, tongue lolling, listening for the raven. Whatever direction the bird flew in he was not going.

Legs burning, chest heaving in and out faster than ever before, Denza slowed to a hesitant walk before dropping onto his side. He winced as the cuts from the wolf's teeth burned his right flank. He pulled himself over to hide under a thin bush – knowing it would do him no good even if he could stop panting. He strained to listen, half hoping to hear nothing and half hoping Lorza might come along at any moment.

It was several minutes before Denza's heart had slowed enough to pant reasonably for traveling once more. He licked his chops and his nose, trying to smell the air, but caught nothing. His flank burned and he looked around, hoping he wouldn't see any of the green from his attacker's muzzle. Just in case, instead of licking his wound, he dragged his hindquarter along the pebbly earth, raking any saliva that may have been present onto the ground.

After another moment, he rose hesitantly, listening carefully. Peering around, he noticed that the trees became much more dense and dark to his left. The sea was, therefore, to his right, so he turned and picked his way as quietly as possible toward the water.

Things had happened much too fast to know what had happened to the others, so he hoped that they also would head to the sea and away from danger to meet up. In the moment of fright, he had torn off, unable to make sure the others got away. He hoped that they hadn't done the stupid thing and tried to fight the larger wolves off. There was no way they all could have gotten out alive if they had.

Denza picked up his head as the trees thinned and he reached the edge of the forest, overlooking a small village of what seemed to be mostly human houses. Small shacks scattered the land between him and the salty sea water. Very few people could be seen tending to various tasks. Denza knew this was a less frequented place than a few days further down the coast.

His attention was turned to his left as he noticed dozens of people huddling around something at the base of the incline that led from the forest out onto the beach. He backed into the trees, using low brush to hide himself and get closer. As he crouched at the edge of his hiding place he realized he caught the faint scent of blood – whoever it was was injured, but not bleeding enough for it to be fatal. Somewhat relieved, he studied the humans' faces – were they scared, upset, shocked? Or simply curious?

As he began to form a plan to get close enough to determine who it was – and potentially, save them from the prying humans – he shuffled into a tight ball under the bushes to examine his wounds. He frowned as he realized that, while they appeared to be minimal at first glance, they stung sharply and he realized the cuts went much deeper than they should have. He wondered how the older wolf had such sharp teeth.

His head whipped around as the crowd of people began exclaiming and backing away from the brown lump at the base of the incline. Denza raised himself slightly and strained forward. A moment later, he saw Nyre staggering towards the hill, desperately trying to make his way back into the cover of the woods.

Ironic, Denza mused, how the only safety they had from the unknown was the deep of the woods – which were clearly no longer safe and familiar.

He watched from his hiding spot as Nyre dragged himself up the incline and collapsed just behind some ferns that blocked him from view of the townsfolk. Nyre's side had been torn at rather badly and his front left leg seemed painfully cut in several places.

“Nyre,” Denza whispered, “Over here.”

Nyre looked around at Denza, face tight with anxiety and fear. After a moment, the brown wolf's eyes met Denza's and he struggled to make his way toward the grey male.

“You see the others?” Nyre flopped onto the ground in front of Denza, licking at the gashes all along his foreleg.

Denza shook his head, eyeing the townspeople as they dispersed and made their ways back to the beach.

“They leaving?” Nyre looked up for a moment. Denza nodded.

“Good,” the brown wolf huffed. “I couldn't stand laying there pretending to be dead any longer. Was afraid they'd get some of their things to butcher me up.”

Denza snorted.

“I've seen it,” Nyre responded, watching Denza as he stood, fighting the aching and stiffness in his muscles.

“Mm,” Denza muttered, looking around behind him. “Do you... know what happened? Did you see anything?”

“Heard someone cry out,” Nyre replied. “Sounded like Lorza... didn't see who got away, though.”

Denza hung his head for a moment. “We need to find them before we can move on. We need to get out of these woods.”

“And go where?” Nyre asked skeptically. “We've been walking for days and days... they're everywhere. We can't escape them, we aren't safe anywhere.”

“They can't have taken over all of the woods,” Denza growled, doubt gnawing in his chest.

“Ever since they first showed up, they've been everywhere we go.”

“Well...” Denza hesitantly walked further into the trees, stepping over brush, eyeing the ground for paw prints. “We need to search for them, at least.”

Nyre nodded and stood to join Denza, limping slightly. Denza commended the brown wolf for working through his own injuries, and gave him a curt nod before picking his way into the trees again.

They made their way along the treeline, bordering the beach, for several minutes. After a few moments, Nyre seemed to suddenly disappear and Denza accredited it to him checking the ground for prints, as he himself was. Within a few moments longer, it was Nyre who called out to Denza, and the grey male bounded to join him.

Nyre had found Lorza lying at the base of a tree, muzzle buried between her paws. She clawed at her own face, crying audibly, muttering madly to herself. While splattered with blood from a cut in her right ear, she seemed unharmed.

“Lorza,” Nyre whispered, leaning down. “Hey, Lorza.”

The young female opened an eye to look at Nyre – her eyes opened wide as she also noticed Denza – before she shut them tightly and began crying uncontrollably.

“Lorza,” Denza began, unsure of what to say. “How – how are you?”

He glanced at Nyre then quickly away as the brown male gave him a look of really?

Through gasps of air and stuttering cries and sniffs, Lorza lifted her head to gasp, “It's h-him! He-he's gone, they t-took him.”

“Caspar,” Denza looked at Nyre, who nodded.

At his name, Lorza gasped out and began clawing at her own face once more, burying her face in the ground.

“It's all m-my fault,” she howled, writhing. “H-he was too sma-all to run, I n-needed to protect h-him. And I f-failed!” She wailed into the dirt, shoving her face into her paws, scratching at the ground madly. Tufts of her fur scattered all over the ground beneath her paws.

Denza had never seen such behavior, except for in his Aunt just before she went mad. He backed away from Lorza, glancing at Nyre in hopes that the brown male would know better what to do. He imagined Lorza bolting after the large black wolves, carrying Caspar off into the woods, her crying out at them, snapping at their hocks – getting boxed in the head by massive jaws and knocking her, dazed, to the ground.

“Hey, hey,” Nyre knelt beside the distraught female. Denza backed away, keeping a watchful eye along the edge of the woods where he knew the strange creatures could be without them knowing.

Besides being shaken from the events, Denza found himself terribly displeased with himself for not having noticed the beasts sooner. Why hadn't he smelled them? How had they been so silent?

They had practically walked out in front of them. How easy would it be for them to be hiding anywhere, unknown to Denza?

He glared into the trees, determined to leave this cursed forest behind forever. He knew there was no way that they could return here. Not while these beasts lived.

He looked around behind him. Nyre seemed to have made some headway with Lorza as she was finally in a sitting position, though slumped against the brown male.

Denza returned his attention to the trees, squinting into the darkness between the dense trees. They had disappeared almost as quickly as they had arrived. How?