“Your howls don't scare me, Klaus.” A thick, voice that sounded nothing like a human or a beast growled out from the intruders mouth. 

“It was a warning, Leonhard.” His dad growled at the man, that he must have known to call him by name. Erhart was racking his brain trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He came up empty on that front. Nothing unusual there, Erhart thought with an inward sigh. Once again, there was not much he could do. 

“I'm here for the Heart.” That man, Leonhard reach out his hand. It was as rough as the rest of him, but on his hand were long black nails, with splits and cracks ravishing them. Erhart knew those could do some damage. Erhart looked at his dad's back that had come to stand before him, hiding his view, but also hiding him from view. His words didn't make much sense, was he after his heart? Like his beating heart? 

“He wouldn't want it its weak,” Erhart muttered out loud. His heart, was sick, more like on the verge of death, but he was trying to remain positive. Positive people don't bring up death. 

“I don't need your heart, boy!” Leonhard cracked out. His voice made Erhart ears start to ring; he didn't mean for him to hear his mutterings. “I need you, as a whole.” That didn't sound all that pleasant either, Erhart's body gave an involuntary shiver. 

“There are no such things as a male Heart!” His dad voice cleared Erhart's head and ears. That man, Leonhard, must be trying to use some sort of magic. “Leave! Now!” he stomped the ground with his foot. Erhart watched the ground spit in front of them and Leonhard stumble and fall back a few steps. He didn't feel a thing, his dad was amazing.  

“You used to be stronger, Klaus. You should have never let that women break the curse.” Leonhard shook his head, like the prick hadn't stumbled before his dad. “Should have stayed with the family.” Erhart bit his lip. He knew about his dad's curse, he told him about it when he turned thirteen, in case the curse struck him. Lucky for him, that hadn't cropped up for him. Cursed, and sick; that would down right sucked. 

“Of course, the family is more than happy to overlook it.” If he was talking about the family, did that make Leonhard a Bearskin too? One still under the curse?  “If you give us the boy.” His smile exposed, yellow teeth that moved when he grinned. Erhart bit back the bile that threaten to come up. “Give him to us, and we'll call it even.” 

“My son is but a sickly child.” His dad's voice dug down a few octaves lower. He was well and truly pissed, he had heard that tone only once before. When a small coven showed up at their cabin, without notice, and demanded his dad sell the place. It hadn't ended well for them, and it wouldn't for this man either. “I repeat, there is no such thing has a male Heart.” A male Heart? Erhart couldn't think of any supernatural called that, sounded like it was generally female, he would ask his dad about it; once he drove the man off. 

“ There is, you have one; for now” Leonhard snapped his fingers, and from the shadows of the trees. Even blocked by the force that was his dad's back, he could see it. The long, lengthy shadows, that twisted and shook the surrounding trees. It wiggled and wormed, has the trees bent, avoiding its touch. Stepping out into the sun, they seemed transparent. Shadow worms, squirming in the rain. They stretched and pulled. Until they finally settled into tall, lengthy forms; that someone could argue. Looking almost like humans. 

Standing a head taller than his dad, he placed them at seven, seven and half feet tall. Twisted faceless forms turned and stared at them without eyes. Split apart, one became two. The sound reminded him of the winters when his dad would skin the fish, peeling their skins from the bodies. It was wet, and messy, and horrifying in this context. Two then became three. Each, in what Erhart could only describe, as a hand; held a white short dagger. 

“Dad?” Erhart didn't want to whine, he didn't want to be a burden. His head, no, his whole body was screaming. Those things, whatever those things were. Held in their hands a fate worse than a simple death by illness. They held something, were something more sinister. He didn't want his dad facing these, he didn't want to be facing these. We need to get out of here! Erhart wanted to scream, but found himself unable to use his voice anymore. 

“Doden's” his dad's voice shook, he could see a tremble run down the centre of his back. His dad, his dad, was afraid. “You bastard.” 

“Dad-” he was about to tell his father to run, leave him. When his dad turned and scooped him up, holding him like he did moments ago, and he ran. Blankets flying behind them. Their small table that Erhart treasured got smaller, and smaller.  They fled from their home they had shared together his whole life. It felt so wrong. Looking over his dad's shoulder, he saw those things, Doden's. Chasing them, and Leonhard's laughter was right on their heels. His dad was moving fast, faster than any human, or bear could manage. Yet, still they were not out of sight. 

“Don't look back,” his dad pushed his head to his chest. Erhart nodded, unable to speak with the wind rushing at him. It would only choke him out, if he tried. A feeling was coiling itself around his heart, faster than his dad could run. A sinking feeling, poured down into his gut where it turned and spat its ugliness into his head. He was never going back, to his hospital like room, to the only place he ever called home. 

Looking up at his dad's face. His lips bared his teeth to the elements, his eyes squinted while he concentrated on running. Erhart fisted his dad's shirt in his hands. The world was falling apart, and in a much different way than he ever could imagine. Closing his eyes, he begged whatever deity that would listen. Please, please, let at least his dad would be okay.