The morning air was particularly cool, and the salty sea scent lingered in Matilda's long hair. She pulled the strands which the wind blew into her face away, and traced her lips with her fingers. Castor had promised to walk with her in the woods one last time, before he left with the ship that was just arriving to load up supplies. “The Blak Bark,” it was called. She watched with envy as the sailors boarded and loaded the dark ship. Matilda had always wanted to travel – how exciting it must be! To see new worlds and people, experience new places and creatures.

But she was nothing more than a peasant daughter, living a life on the poor fishing town to get by until her mother found her an appropriate suitor that she would, eventually, have to marry. She bit her lip as she imagined herself living in another man's home. How wonderful it would be to live in the trust and mutual love and respect of one another, if she were lucky enough to not have just any average gentleman who came to call. But it was silly to dream.

She was broken from her thoughts as Castor approached. Matilda watched sadly as he smoothed the front of his white shirt and adjusted his vest.

“You ready?”

Matilda nodded.

In silence, they turned and began to make their way down the cobblestone path and toward the woods behind the butcher.

Matilda started as she felt Castor's hand on the back of her arm.

“I'm going to write to you... every chance I have. You promise to write me back?”

Matilda blinked back tears and nodded, biting her lip. “How will I know where to send the letters?”

“I'll tell you where I'll be, if we move after I'm stationed at my supposed permanent post... and potential move dates. That way if you know I'll be moved by the time your letter reaches me, you can send it to the next post.” Castor ran a hand through his straw colored hair. Matilda's stomach knotted just a bit.

“We should be staying at taverns for the first few days after the ship lands up North... so you won't hear from me for a little while. But I know I've been promised to squire for a knight in the jousting tournaments in Welsummer.”

Matilda furrowed her eyebrows. “I thought you were actually... fighting in the war?”

Castor smiled weakly. “Not really... not as of right now. But I need to stay with my mentor. For training. For if I do. Until then, I'm still just his squire... and the knight is a good friend of his, so I'll get to learn the ways of knighthood and jousting while I'm there. I know you know this already but... if anything happened to my mentor, I'd hope to be placed with a knight where I can learn the ways of the tournament, more so than any average Lord.”

Matilda nodded. Castor had never seen a jousting tournament but it had always been his dream to attend one, even compete someday. While the thrill of jousting was something she could understand, Matilda also felt fear for Castor, as she knew very well the dangers of the sport. They had discussed and bickered over the matter many times before, and while she felt the urge to do so again, now was not the right time.

“You'll tell me everything?”

“Everything,” Castor squeezed her arm gently, before placing both hands in his vest pockets.

They had reached the edge of the stone road and Castor began to wander towards the butcher's shop. “You need to have a look at something, though.”

Matilda begrudgingly followed him to the window of the butcher. She could see the shop owner bent over the long wood table in the very back of his shop, busying himself with skinning a goat.

“See this?” Castor gestured to the pelt of a grey rabbit hanging in the butcher's window. Matilda leaned closer.

“A rabbit pelt...?” She raised an eyebrow.

Castor turned the pelt around, and Matilda noticed an odd algae-like coloration. “Mold?”

“No,” Castor beckoned her closer. “Look....”

Matilda narrowed her eyes as she recognized the strange glowing green substance that she had noticed on Disa's hoof just over a week before. She turned back to Castor.

“Does anyone know...?”

“No,” he shook his head, releasing the pelt. “But it looks like it wasn't ingested... it's been attacked by something using this stuff as a weapon. Or very sick.” Castor studied the pelt again.

“So it's fatal,” Matilda mused, as they left for the woods, “If it stays on the skin too long?” She was grateful to have been able to clean off her mare's hooves as soon as she had returned from their ride.

“Looks like it.” Castor pocketed his hands again. “Someone found the body behind their well and brought it to the butcher for analysis. Didn't know what it was.”

“So... why the butcher?”

“They figured the butcher could open it up and see what's inside. Said he didn't notice anything weird in the body or the meat, but tossed it anyway. To be safe.”

Matilda nodded.

“Watch out for this stuff in the woods, okay?” Castor watched her face. Matilda nodded again.

“Don't take any chances.” Castor ran his hand through his hair again. “Alright... so... anything you'd like to talk about?”

“I just want you to do the talking,” Matilda forced a smile. “I won't get to hear from you in person for awhile.”

Castor shot her an empathetic look. They left the cobblestone trail behind them and ventured into the woods, Matilda listening in earnest to Castor's every word.

The three young wolves had traveled for miles much more slowly after what they had seen. The entire forest reeked of death and sickness, wet mossy earth and numerous animals' presence and foot trails. Cadenza was beyond even daring to look forward to reaching the edge of the forest. They had encountered three more carcasses, all covered in the green blood. The scents had slowed them down, as they preferred to move slowly and quietly rather than bursting through the trees and potentially into danger.

The extra day's trekking had put Denza on even more edge than he had already been. In addition to taking more time to leave the cursed forest, the carcasses of inedible food taunted their noses all through this portion of the trees. Twice he had to keep from turning around and putting Caspar in his place when the pup whined about how his “belly hurt,” and how he hadn't eaten in “soooooo long!” Denza shook his ruff and trotted slightly faster to put some distance between himself and his companions.

His nose was clouded with the scent of rot and he knew he couldn't bare this slow pace with the other two for long. None of them had ever even been this far into the woods and Denza only knew that they were heading the right direction from conversations he had overheard among his family.

He was glad of one thing, though – that the scents and sights had presented him with no more childish tales and lore. Lorza and Caspar had kept quiet and to themselves ever since the discovery of the grizzly scene the morning before.

His head jerked upwards and to his right when he heard a twig snap, shattering his pensive thoughts. He noticed he didn't hear any sounds behind him and when he turned around to check, his stomach dropped when he saw neither Lorza or Caspar. Silently cursing their questionable behavior, he stayed still and turned his head in any direction he could, trying to get a scent or visual on one of them. The rot scent was so powerful he smelled nothing else and he shook his head, irritated at his lack of skill. Where did they get off to?

The bushes to his right rustled, rather audibly, as if whatever was hiding wasn't attempting to do so very well, and Denza narrowed his eyes on them. Something black stood behind them. Hoping it was Caspar, Denza crept forward.

A rustling in the bushes just ahead caught his attention and whoever was behind the brush just in front of his nose made their way forward. Nervous that Lorza may have no idea what she had gotten herself into, Denza stalked the dark creature and made his way towards the bushes a few leaps away.

“Please don't... please don't...!” a frail young voice repeated.

Denza realized quickly someone was getting stalked and, potentially, killed. In his haste to discover who the kill would belong to, Denza made his way faster towards the shuddering voice ahead. He beat whoever was on the other side by a few paces, and stooped to look under the bushes.

A scrawny brown wolf lay curled into a tight ball, about Denza's own age, his eyes shut tight, whispering all too loudly to avoid being spared. Denza fought the urge to alert the young male to his presence and, in a moment of indecision, reared up over the bushes to look for the stalker.

“Hey!”

The brown wolf started and dashed out from under Denza and tore off through the woods. Close on his heels was Caspar, who leaped over the bushes right next to Denza's head, nearly knocking him clean over. Denza snarled loudly in disgust.

“Come on!” Caspar called as he dashed off. “We gotta catch him!”

No, Denza thought rationally. It was time to get on. Time to leave this awful forest and find new grounds to start his own life. If this was the way Caspar was going to go, that was his choice. The pup was no longer Denza's concern. He never was.

Nearly forgetting about Lorza, Denza simply trotted onward in the direction they all should have been going. If she was in earshot, he might as well let her know he was severing their ties correctly.

“Lorza,” he called, “I'm going onward... Caspar's left.”

No reply. Perplexed, Denza reasoned that if he took off now and put some distance between themselves, they would certainly never meet again and, therefore, he owed no apology for dumping their foolish souls in the forest.

He shook his coat once more and took off, now at a fast trot. He had made it quite a few paces when he heard a weak rumble behind him. He whipped his head around to see, to his surprise, a very disgruntled Lorza.

“So,” she breathed, standing up straight, tall and rigid. Forced to look up at her silhouette atop the slope of the incline Denza now found himself in challenged him.

He narrowed his eyes. Her tail bristled.

“You were all set to just leave us, huh?”

“You didn't answer,” Denza snapped as he began to turn away once more. “Caspar's gone, you disappeared, what am I supposed to do?”

“Wait to find everyone before moving along!” Lorza leaped down to face him. Denza turned and stared straight back into her pale yellow eyes.

“I'm not a babysitter,” he growled, teeth bared slightly. “You and that pup need to grow up.”

Lorza bristled, long canines glaring. “We're a pack. We look after one another.”

“Yeah,” Denza huffed, shaking his head. “I called you, told you I was heading onward. Where were you?”

“I,” Lorza retorted, standing straighter, “waited... to see what you would do.” Her head held high, she eyed him in disgust. “I was right next to Caspar back there, but I've known for every moment we've been together that you have no sense of loyalty to us whatsoever.”

Denza's hackles bristled and he arched his neck. He wanted to laugh at her, loud and clear for the world to hear – to mock her. She had no idea, clearly, what running an honest pack meant. He had accepted and dragged their unrefined tails through these woods! Showed them proper berry bushes to feed on, sniffed out water and danger. She had no idea what taking her and that pup had done to slow him down.

He was a leader – his mental and physical strength, his cleverness, brightness of mind and honed skills, better in every way than her and that Caspar – clearly made it so.

“Don't you dare talk to me about loyalty!”

“You're no leader,” Lorza snarled. “You're just using whoever will grovel to you and praise you for your self-appointed superiority to get what you need, until they're of no use to you.”

“You...” Denza took a step forward, “You know nothing of leadership and loyalty.”

His mother had praised him for his skills – for the quick pace at which he learned, for his dedication to survive. She held toughness in every measure the highest of praise. Denza had particular power in the mind, she had said. He would waste little on the weak and the useless, but he would do the time and make the effort in cases of extremes or potential. If they were a lost cause, he gave them the time necessary for themselves to see it... then leave them be, to decide their own path.

Lorza straightened, but backed up. “We cared about you. We watched your back and yes, we did follow you because you do have more experience in some things than we.”

“Some things?” Denza threw back his head and laughed – loud, cackling, nothing held back. His mockery echoed through the trees. “There is nothing that you can do better than I already can.” He narrowed his eyes, tail flicking.

“You are unbelievable,” Lorza scoffed.

Denza dismissed her with another, more violent flick of his tail, and turned to stride away from her. His heart pounded in his ears as he fought to retain his composure.

“You'll never have that loyal pack you want so desperately,” Lorza chided. Denza ignored her. “You'll never know companions who won't question you, or your motives, you'll never know a true mate, you'll never have anyone who will trust in you to -”

Denza rounded and let out a wrangled cry – a snarl, growl and a scream all at once. But he stood his ground and stared the female wolf down. Lorza stared right back, challenging him to take her down. He was stronger and better than that... better than fighting her over her uneducated words.... he turned again and trotted off into the woods. Within a few leaps, he heard nothing but his own pawsteps and his furiously beating heart.