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“Put a bullet in it’s head” was sound advice.

It would have been good of Al, for his sake, to heed it.

The loyal hunter had Harvey’s back, but who had Al’s?

The heap in the grass exhaled, silently. His shoulders rolled up over his head, and those blue eyes opened to see the blurred forms of Harvey and Al moving away at rapid pace.

The stick was unbound from his leg. The old officer had a little borrowed time…

He sucked in a breath (and oh, what a bitter breath it was), and disregarding the agony of putting weight on his dominant arm, and to breathe (ignoring the urge to cough), took to the earth with terrible speed!

With Al as his target, he took several long strides, and leapt like a lion from the grass to cover the last of the distance!

Chapman leapt with ferocity and a burly grey shape fell on his back. A hard hand caught his face and muzzle and a force to be reckoned with brought him to the ground.

Al hardly noticed at all. Another string of yips, whines, and growls sprung out of the woods ahead of him at that same moment. Harvey was already hot after it.

The shaggy creature that could hardly be called a werewolf fought the good chief til Harvey and Al went out of range.

"Today is not your day to die, friend." The old stranger whispered in his ear. "Give it up!"

Levi was at their side like a phantom out of the grass, looking wide-eyed first at the stranger and then the direction the hunters had gone.

"Let's go, hurry!"

He didn't know who the stranger was. He didn't care. There would only be enough time for questions if they all made it out of there alive, so he sidled around the opposite side of Chapman from the stranger to slip under his arm and give him some support, to help carry him out of the clearing and back to the cover of the woods opposite where the hunters had gone.

Chapman did fight for a moment, but finding it fruitless, relented the struggle.

"They're after the kids!" he said, in a raspy whisper when his mouth had been freed. Then, one of those kids appeared from the grass, and with his appearance brought some relief to the old chief's heart.

Chapman's ears then swiveled towards the whining and yipping in the trees,

Call back your pack, Kratos..

"They'll catch him; I'm too slow anyway," he argued, and choked a cough. Not quite strong enough to fight, he would be easy enough to guide away regardless.

The three were quickly behind the treeline, but they couldn't stop there.

"Come on, lads." The bristly stranger urged in a quiet voice. He kept them on their toes, helping Chapman keep the pace. They went west and then north, and snagged a left into a man-made streambed.

The old werewolf was a dusky white color, but he was also covered in mud from paw to ear, - and what ears he had, for both of them flopped on his head like some pound puppy. The tips of his bristly coat were a bit curly, too, on the ends. Under the moonlight, he looked like a sort of ruffian, or strange vagabond.

"This'll be the way, lads, a bit further now." He said, guiding Levi and Chapman into an old water tunnel under the road. Now, they were heading back in the same direction they'd come, but he stopped in the tunnel to say, "You'll have a moment to catch yer breath, just here. Then we must keep going."

Chapman lost his bearings pretty quickly, and took the guideance of the elder werewolf on trust.

He listened for gunshots or signs of another werewolf at the wrong end of the hunters weapons, but heard nothing else… perhaps they were too far out of range.

The officers legs kept up beneath him, although his head occasionally lulled and his eyelids were heavy.

When they came to pause, he tried to provide a moments reprieve for Levi and the stranger, but finding it exhaustive, let his weight slump more into the older stranger.

” I know you…” he said, then looked to Levi. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

Levi's ears perked up at the sound of the lilt in the stranger's voice. Even their current predicament could not smother the flicker of hope and curiosity that brightened his eyes.

But he stayed on task, and did not dare ask questions until Chapman addressed him directly.

"Nay, sir, not hurt 't all," he said breathlessly, shaking his head. "I donnae know who else is out this far--" he looked up at the old stranger, "One o' yers mayhaps?"

Some hesitation. Licked lips. Finally he ventured, "Yer Irish, aren't you, sir? Are... Are yeh from the Sabres pack?"

The old werewolf set his eyes on the police chief with confusion at first, but then a light came into those eyes and he almost gave a shout.

"And me here, not knowin' who I was savin." He said, then his ears perked up, as well they might from only the base, and he looked at Levi. "In a manner of speaking. They call me Scout, and that's what I am. But let's get goin' again, lads. Haven't a clue when they'll turn about and be headin' our way."

And so on they went. Scout brought them into the tunnel, but not out the other side. There was a bit of a crack in the tunnel, near the middle of it, and a squeeze to get through to the other side, and there they came into a tight stony alcove with water under their feet. Scout let Chapman sit for a moment as he fingered about at the back of it. Then with a huff and a grinding noise, a large stone was moved (or what must be assumed to be a large stone, for they were in total darkness now.) Scout got hold of Chapman again after a moment and was brought through, along with Levi, before the rock was pushed back into place.

"The dogs will find our trail easy enough, but the men won't, not for awhile anyways..." Scout said, and his voice was all around them for the narrowness of the way in front of them. "Stay close, young lad. There's only one right way through, and it's been thirty years since I've been down 'ere."

"The dogs won't be findin' us," Levi said with grim confidence. He'd killed one, and the herb he carried was fresh, it would ward the noses of any others.

He was silent for a time, picking his way after the elders, listening to the echos of their claws on stone, and imagining the layout of the way by the sounds.

"The onnae made the cry then, that distracted them, wasn't one o' yers?"

“Where does it come out?” Chapman asked, trying his best to sound coherent. “Bad day for a cop caught not wearing a vest..“

His ears went back to the Sabre’s boy.

”You came alone?”

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