Kashvi shuddered, she could hear the howls of werewolves somewhere in the distance. She cursed herself for being careless and getting cut, the smell of the blood wasn't going to do them any favours. It had been a close call, lone Betas were still wolves after all, and there had been four of them at that.
"It's good to see you haven't become the grandmother in the fairytale just yet - you've still got some moves," Devon was grinning beside her.
Kashvi snorted, "Please, I could take Betas in my sleep."
Please let that situation never occur.
Devon chuckled, tripping slightly over a log then stretching his palm face up in front of him, "It's raining."
Kashvi squinted up to the clear sky, "No it's not?"
"It will," Devon stated with a smile.
"You're doing your freaky weather prediction thing again aren't you? Why can't you ever predict anything nice like sunshine and rainbows?"
Half an hour later and the rain was so heavy that Kashvi was pretty sure the whole forest was going to get washed away.
"Where are we heading?" Devon called above the humming roar, "Back out to the road?"
"No - we'll cut east and then try our luck on the plains going north," Kashvi answered.
"Are you kidding me? That's prime Chimera country. I'd rather go south," Devon spat miserably.
"South would be literally throwing ourselves to the wolves. You know they've got forts there Devon," Kashvi warned.
"Better than fucking Chimeras," Devon’s face scrunched up in an angry frown.
Kashvi sighed. When they had been sixteen, a rogue Chimera had strayed into the coven at night. Devon had stumbled across it and it had taken a large chunk of his leg before the witches managed to put it down.
Devon still rubbed at the scar sometimes like it was hurting him. The bite of a Chimera wouldn’t turn you into anything but a corpse - that was if the poison reached your heart before it could be extracted.
"We have to head north Devon, I know there's a human settlement there. I heard about it from some traders back on the road," Kashvi told him.
Devon pulled a face, "Yeah, because our own kind are so welcoming, especially when they get an eyeful of our pretty tattoos!"
Our own kind
Kashvi wasn't in the mood to contradict him. She had long stopped thinking of herself as a straight-up human but something in Devon just wouldn't let it go. Although it served only to make him even more angry and bitter at the rejections from human camps they had encountered along the way.
"Not all humans are the same Devon, someone somewhere might be willing to help us," Kashvi murmured.
"Not like dogs, they're all the same." Devon spat at the ground and ran his hand through his blond hair, flicking the water away. He pulled his hood over his head with a violent jerk and slumped against a tree trunk.
He was right, the only werewolves they had come across had tried to kill them, or worse. Werewolves had thrived since the end of the world, bands of them running wild, picking off stragglers or attacking human camps.
But those were lone Betas and ronins, not like down south where the Alphas were rumoured to be. In the south there were werewolf forts, perhaps armies, gearing up for war with the witches. Kashvi barked a laugh at how meaningless it all was and Devon flinched beside her.
"I didn't even make a joke," Devon muttered.
"No one laughs at your jokes," Kashvi sighed and leaned forward. "Rain's easing up, we need to get going."
Devon took her hand and they started moving, or rather, sliding, and scrambling across the damp slippery ground. Devon let out a few choice expletives every time he went crashing down on his knees.
Kashvi knew why Devon hated reaching human settlements; it wasn’t just the rejection, the gasps of horror when people spotted the witch-marks. It was the fact that it was another human camp that didn’t contain his father.
Out of their families only Martin Ramirez had survived, acting as a father for both Kashvi and Devon, holding her tightly as she cried, telling her she was as good as his daughter and he would protect her always. In the end they had even lost him when the witches stole them away. Kashvi could still hear Martin’s furious screaming and shouting, the sound of gunshots, useless against spells.
Devon still secretly hoped they would come across him one of these days, but every settlement was another disappointment, another kick in the face. Kashvi dreaded it when Devon would grab at her sleeve asking her if she could see him. The answer was always no.
"Why do werewolves always want to ravage me?" Devon grumbled beside her as they reach the edge of the forest. There was some ominous howling going on behind them, hopefully it was further away than it sounded.
"They have low standards?" Kashvi suggested as they reached the edge of the forest. It was getting dark, not an ideal time for them to be out in the open, but those howls...
"Thanks Kash. That'll be a real comfort next time I get accosted by a band of rabid wolves with evil intent on my virtue."
Kashvi snorted and punched Devon lightly in the arm. It would take more than an apocalypse to get rid of Devon’s bad taste jokes. In the end it would probably be them and the termites.
"We're out of the forest aren't we?" Devon asked.
"Yeah, your daredevil senses picking up there Devi?”
"Nope, I'm just not face planting into any trees right now,” Devon grinned.
Kashvi turned to him guiltily, she knew she wasn’t exactly the best guide. It was a good day if Devon only got one nosebleed from a sudden and unexpected impact. However, Devon was grinning at her and pulled them forwards out into the plain.
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