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Pecans in the Cemetery (SP-RP18/19)

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Chapman did feel the rising tension, and chose to ignore it until at last it was impossible. Kratos made his position clear, and took the sickly werewolf back to the cabin porch.

"No," he said lowly, looking intentionally from Saber to the Alpha. "Remove them yourself. You have claimed responsibility of him; therefore, unbind him. Henceforth, his blood and any blood claimed by him is yours and yours alone." he said, lowering his chin and establishing a conclusion to a previous conversation.

"So be it." Kratos said. He knelt beside Saber and removed Chapman's cords. Then he took them up and tossed them back to their owner.

"Henceforth his blood is mine." He concluded, "And I will avenge every drop of it."

Chapman stooped to pick up the binds, and when he stood again he was a man. He threw them in the backseat, shutting the door.

"So be it," he echoed, quietly. Louder he said, "Take care of yours. I will tend to mine."

He turned sideways and opened the driver door, climbing in and starting the engine. There was nothing else to be said; no agreements, peaceful or at least passive, could be made with the Svalnaglas listening nearby. Chapman saw no reason to linger, until he saw the manila envelope of paperwork. He collected it and made his way to the porch, offering it forward.

Kratos watched Officer Chapman with the eyes of a wolf and did not relent his second skin. Now he looked at the envelope. Now he took it.

"Do you have an antidote?" He asked presently.

Chapman reached into a velcro pocket on his pant-leg and had begun to do so even prior to the question being voiced. He withdrew a syringe still in plastic, and a small glass jar with an aluminum button on the lid for puncturing.

“He will wake up naturally in an hour… perhaps two, considering his weight. A dose of this will wake him up near instantly, but it might make him woozy, and more confused than if you wait until the anesthesia is worn off.” He said, depositing the little objects on the banister for Kratos to do with as he will.

Then he went down the steps, and moved to return to his vehicle.

Kratos watched the old man return to his vehicle. He came by himself, and it seemed he would leave by himself; a bent down veteran, having made no promise and no alliance. Who was to be the next alpha of the pack of Middlecrest? ... What of the pack of Ireland, and the Stone Arch?

Kratos looked at the little objects left on the banister. His large black hand overshadowed them, and his clawed fingers curled around them. They would not be seen again. Now he looked at that old officer again and watched him get back into his car to leave.

Without delay, the car turned around and started off down the little mountain path, for what the old, weary Alpha believed very much to believe the last time.

The gravel under the cruiser grit and ground together as the car rolled back and turned around. The wind was in the trees again, swaying peacefully in farewell.

Timothy came out of his hiding place on the road behind the cruiser, appearing in the rearview mirror like a wayward shadow between the trees. He stood still with his eyes glinting out at the car, but he did not follow it.

When the police chief was well out of sight, (though his cruiser would not be out of hearing til it was far beyond Zeit's homestead,) Kratos stepped down off the porch.

Timothy returned to the clearing and Kratos approached the fenced-in enclosure once more. Tiffany looked up.

"It seems you know each other." Kratos said. "He will spend the night down there, with you. Do not forget what I have said; his blood is mine, and I will repay."

"Who on earth are you?" Tiffany asked, mystified.

"I am Kratos Shragron, Alpha of the Calagathorm Pack."

To be continued in

"Werewolves (RP19) What the Moon Has to Say"

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