Thank you. But because this scene takes place so late in the first arc I'm not sure what to post after it. o_o;

Most, if not all, of the third person stuff will be rewritten into first. The upcoming section will be told from Hayden's POV, although he'll be challenging as he has a thick British cadence. This and his blood line seem to have little influence over his vulgarity though. And he will be challenging to write, methinks. You'll see what I mean in the next section. D:

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     Hayden didn’t think he would have been as concerned for the girl as he thought he was. Hayden sometimes didn’t think things through very well. He had underestimated Asher’s strength and determination, and he had overestimated the amount of time he had. Autumn’s wound had already begun to grow infected. It didn’t show signs of it yet, however, it emitted a slightly metallic, mildewy odour characteristic of the early stages. He had to hurry lest it grew further inward, destroying her, and his chances of getting paid. He hadn’t thought it would be this hard to complete a simple mission. All things sounded easier in theory, he thought.

     The bitter taste of Asher’s blood was still strong in his mouth as he ran through the forest, carrying the soiled dagger wrapped in a bloody rag tightly between his teeth, and the nearly lifeless body of his pay cheque in his arms. She had grunted and moaned a few times at the start of their journey as he leapt over fallen logs and ducked beneath tree limbs, but she soon fell silent. He paused a moment beside a stream to check on her, lying her down on the cold rocks. Her hair clung to her hot, clammy skin like seaweed, but she was still breathing. He growled at her frustratingly, spit soaking the cloth in his mouth. He grabbed her face roughly and turned it this way and that, trying to see if she would open her eyes. Finally, taking the object from his mouth he let out a piercing bark into her face, demanding that she look at him. Her lids fluttered momentarily and she slowly opened her eyes. They were dark and dim, though beginning to glimmer with fever. Satisfied, he bit down on the cloth once again, and tried to force himself to gently pick her up again instead of merely seizing her carelessly. She felt like glass in his arms, light and delicate, though heavy with pain and illness. He was still in some pain himself. The cruel kick to his manhood, although it was already beginning to heal, still stung and complained whenever he moved. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about that moonstruck fool following them. The humans would discover his body and it would no doubt be enough to buy him some time until he was able to escape further into the mountains. But first, he had to stop and get her some first aid.

     What normally would have been an hour’s walk from the asylum to one of his many hideouts, turned into a roughly thirty minute sprint through the woods. It would have been sooner if he hadn’t been made to carry an injured, sick young girl. He had witnessed such a wound before in his travels, but he was only somewhat familiar with the tool used to inflict it. He was well aware of the special weapons designed specifically for the killing or skinning of werewolves. They had mysterious properties somehow assigned to them that prevented the lacerations which they inflicted from healing right away. When used properly, such as in the case of the skinning knife, they could expertly remove the hide of a werewolf, which had to be done while the unfortunate creature still lived. Typically, a meaningful injury, such as the kind created when the blade is driven into the body, results in a dramatic degeneration, returning the werewolf to its vulnerable human state, and most likely killing it in the end. Usually wounds inflicted by such a weapon have a signature scent; a somewhat chemical smell treated with the bitter redolence of burning flesh as, with repeated use, the weapon would continue to grow hotter. Removing the skin of a werewolf was a skill that required both talent and sense of urgency, as one is not only racing against the moment the beast may pass, thus shedding its bestial guise as well as its valuable fur, but also the amount of time it takes for the weapon to heat beyond the point of burning one’s hand. Most werewolves who fall victim to hunters usually only have the hide on their back and shoulders removed as it is not only the thickest, but also the easiest to obtain.

     At least, Hayden thought, this saved him the trouble of breaking into the asylum itself in order to free her. Had female werewolves not been such a rare commodity, he would have gladly moved on to other places. He had considered it good fortune that one had turned up so close to the area to which he must return. In his reconnaissance around the land of Amber Peace, he had stumbled upon an abandoned hunter’s lodge. It was tiny, having only one six by six room with fire place and two windows, and was in disrepair with a noticeable hole in the roof and severely disintegrated floorboards. Luckily there was still a mattress and a few pots, pans, and even a table left behind from the previous owners, which, judging by the smell, had been quite some time ago. Hayden could be quite resourceful when it suited him, and it wasn’t long before he had repaired the hole in the roof with a few borrowed wooden planks from the asylum. He used the same sort of planks to cover the weakened parts of the floor inside.

     He hurried inside and laid Autumn down in the old, broken bed. The linens were dirty but they had to do. He then stepped outside and with a deep breath, sent out a long, loud howl into the early dawn. The cry was deep and eerily human but with a true lupine undertone to carry it over the treetops. He paused before sending out another one. When there was still no answer, he took another breath, and was immediately interrupted by a similar response far in the distance. A lot could be said in a simple howl, but not so much as could be exchanged in words. All he was able to convey was that he or someone else was injured and in need of help. He didn’t have to listen closely to what the response itself said only that there was help on the way and that it was less than an hour from his location. Satisfied though anxious, his heart still racing from the fight as well as his escape into the forest, there was little he could do until then. He took a few moments to slip back into his human skin as it would be easier to explain things once his ally arrived.

     The blood drying on his skin was beginning to itch, but he was afraid he would miss something by going to the creek to wash it off. After cracking his neck and shoulders, which was something he nearly always had to do after a shift for whatever reason, he got dressed while watching her as she stirred in her sleep. She winced at the pain gnawing at her side. He checked her fever with a hand to her brow, and pulled the sheets tight around her small form while swearing under his breath. There was an old bear skin in a nearby trunk he had discovered only days earlier, and used that to keep her warm before starting a fire in the hearth. Lycanthropes run at a slightly higher degree than humans so a fever can be life threatening if it goes too high or lingers too long. It was difficult for him to assess exactly how severe her fever was just by touching her.

     â€œYou had better be worth the trouble,â€� he said, scowling at her.
He sat on the edge of the bed and studied her face for a while. In the dim light she looked to be no more than a child, and he almost felt sorry for molesting her earlier. Before, as he had found her laid out, upon the rocks near the river with her bare flesh exposed to the air like some sacrificial offering, she had looked and smelled like a vulnerable, though tempting, young lady. She hadn’t appeared so immature at that point in time; her shape was well developed though petite due to her small frame and her skin, pale and unblemished. Hayden had found it almost too difficult to resist at least sampling its smoothness. He was almost always in the mood after a good shift which made it all the more challenging not to take advantage of her. Just a taste, he had told himself.
The situation had turned out to be serendipitous for him, however, as he took the opportunity also to ensure her sense of who was in charge. And there was no easier way than striking the fear of God into her where it counted, even though she had sunk her teeth into his shoulder and even while he had her pinned to the stones, she still showed defiance. The smell of her fear had been intoxicating, and her anger, provocative. Overall, he found her intriguing, if a little foolish. Strong women were about as rare as female werewolves. But, perhaps, it was only the petulance of youth and inexperience that drove her to indignation. She had even yet to be Broken and sometimes that can change a creature, especially females. The thought of Breaking her himself was stimulating to him. He had never Broken another werewolf before. If she did turn out to be an Alpha female then her qualities would be wasted in the Colony. But, he decided that it would be wiser to wait and see how things turned out before jumping to conclusions. Sometimes jumping to conclusions was good exercise, thought Hayden, but it would be better to be safe than sorry. He didn’t want to end up playing babysitter to an impertinent youth, which had been his very first impression of her when she had adamantly refused to call him by his first name. But he had to give her some credit; if all she had been was a spoiled brat with a smart mouth, she wouldn’t be clinging as dearly to life as she was just then. Greater warriors had fallen to less severe injuries.

     He got up and paced around the room, arms crossed, for a while. He kept glancing back at her, hating her for being ill and injured, and completely unreceptive to him. He chewed the side of his mouth. He hadn’t been with a woman in weeks, it seemed. The smell of her sex beckoned to him but that of her wound and her fever repelled him. The fight with Asher had actually helped, and not just because of the wound to his groin, but mostly because it served to release some tension and distract him from his other, more primal needs.
Randomly, he decided that she needed water, or would need it in the near future, so the disgruntled young man pulled on his boots, grabbed a metal pan from the table and headed down to the creek. On his way back, he felt a presence approaching quickly from the north. The sun would be rising soon and the forest appeared a deep blue in the early morning light. Dark shadows still clung to most of the details of the trees and ground. However, he could make out a large animal moving through the underbrush. He could smell him clearly before he even emerged into the clearing near the shack.

     An enormous, grey and black werewolf stepped out of the thicket on all fours, a large knapsack gripped in his teeth. He stood up on his hind legs and removed it from his mouth. He was at least twice Hayden’s size, although Hayden wasn’t a very tall man.

     â€œThat was rather fast, Lazarus,â€� commented Hayden, blinking in surprise. “I hadn’t expected you for another hour or more.â€�

     The werewolf showed his teeth in a friendly sort of way and cocked his ears.

     â€œI’ll give you a moment to get changed,â€� he said, continuing towards the cabin, trying not to upset the water sloshing in the pan. “Your patient awaits.â€�

     Hayden set the pan on the table and flopped down on the edge of her bed again to pull off his shoes.
“You had better be more careful than that, boy,� said Lazarus, upon entering the cabin. “Jumping around like that. You’re likely to jostle the evil spirits dwelling in her body.�

     Lazarus was only his nickname and he was called so because he was so very old, even by the standards of the Benandanti. Although he didn’t look much older than sixty or so, his face was well-weathered and whenever he wasn’t smiling, which wasn’t often, the wrinkles made him appear serious and unhappy. The hardness of his grey eyes only augmented the impression. He had a full head of hair, even if was a little thin. At one time, his hair had been a vibrant brown-red. It was now faded with age, with white and grey now creeping into the edges. He was a giant of a man, standing well over six feet. He had to duck as he stepped into the room, and the floor boards complained loudly beneath him. The room seemed that much smaller with such a big man standing in it.

     â€œIsn’t it a bit unsanitary to work on the infirm without clothes, Dr. Lazarus?â€� asked Hayden, raising his eyebrows. “You did bring some with you.â€�

     â€œI didn’t realize nudity bothered you so much, Vance,â€� he replied, his voice deep and slow, with a soft, Danish accent.

     â€œNormally it doesn’t,â€� he said, looking away. “But it doesn’t seem right somehow for you to be lurking over her with your prick hanging out. Have some manners, won’t you? There’s some clothes in the trunk in the corner, if you’ll be so kind.â€�

     Lazarus only smiled and grunted as he stepped over to the trunk nearest the fireplace and helped himself to a few of Hayden’s old clothes which were more than just a little too small for him.

     â€œSome of us have completely forgotten what it’s like,â€� he said, pulling on some pants, and not even bothering to button them, mostly because he couldn’t. “To be human that is. It’s both refreshing and disturbing to see someone like you still values modesty.â€�

     â€œDon’t flatter yourself,â€� grinned Hayden, leaning back and holding his knee, his heel resting on the edge of the mattress. “Get to work, please. I don’t have all day. And neither does she.â€�

     â€œFine, fine,â€� sighed Lazarus, approaching the bed side. “When you first made the call, I had thought it was you who needed help. But then on my way here, I could sense you had company. So, what seems to be the...Oh.â€�

     He had laid his hands on her face, and knew almost instantly what the problem was. Hayden watched and fidgeted uncomfortably as he slowly peeled back the bear skin blanket and the sheets which were already beginning to grow damp with her sweat. His small, hard eyes widened at the sight of the deep, messy gash in her left side.

     â€œWhat in God’s name happened to this child?â€� he whispered, and gently began testing the area around the wound. He ignored her whimpers as he tried to see how deep the wound went.

     â€œThis happened,â€� said Hayden, producing the bloody rag. He unwrapped it and held it out for Lazarus to inspect. “Werewolf hunters. Her stupid git of a father hired them to watch over her.â€�

     â€œYou’re kidding!â€� he scoffed, scooping the knife up, the cloth still beneath it, separating his hand from touching it directly, as he lifted it away from Hayden’s palm and closer to his face. Although werewolves aged much slower than humans, they were still not immune entirely to its effects. “These runes. They’re Nordic. This is a very old skinning knife.â€�

     â€œThat would have been my guess,â€� replied Hayden, raising his eyebrows in interest. “I’m not entirely sure how a lot like them would have ended up with something like this, but I’d wager they stole it from someone. They didn’t exactly seem like very high-class hunters if you know what I mean. I don’t believe her father was a very good judge of character. It didn’t take much for me to earn his trust, that much is certain. Too easy, if you ask me.â€�

     â€œWell, I’ll take a closer look at this later,â€� said Lazarus, slipping it back carefully into Hayden’s hands, as if it were a poisonous snake poised to bite. “Fetch my bag. I’ll have to sterilize and close the wound right away.â€�

     â€œI thought you’d never ask,â€� said Hayden, lifting the heavy satchel onto the bed, as Lazarus got down on his knees, rolling back the sleeves of his shirt as far as they could go.

     Hayden watched closely as Lazarus first doused his hands in alcohol and then using a clean rag, and the pan of water Hayden had collected earlier, gently began to clean the wound. The powerful, acidic scent made him cough and his eyes water. Autumn was very good not to cry out, otherwise Lazarus was just being very careful. As he began to wash the blood away, it became apparent the seriousness of the laceration. The cut was deep and encircled her left rib like a fish’s gill. The edges of it were jagged, dark, and puffy. It was an impressive battle wound, thought Hayden, and would most certainly leave a sexy scar.

     â€œYou may have to hold her down for this next bit,â€� advised Lazarus, in a deep, serious tone, which sent a wave of dread through Hayden.    

     As Autumn was laying on her right side, Hayden settled on the bed next to her, his back pressed into the wall, and gathered her wrists in one hand, with another on her knees.
Using a different rag, Lazarus doused it in alcohol and began to rub quickly around the wound. Autumn screamed and began to buck, but Hayden held her firmly to the mattress.

     â€œDon’t you have anything to numb her with?â€� asked Hayden, cynically.

     â€œWhat do I look like? A doctor?â€� he chuckled. “I’m afraid I don’t. We don’t normally keep such things on hand at the Colony. Don’t normally need it.â€�

     â€œSo you’re going to have to sew it,â€� he asked, slowly. “Without any sort of anaesthesia?â€�

     â€œI’m afraid so,â€� he said, continuing to wipe away at the cut. Autumn let out another pitiful cry.

     â€œLovely,â€� grinned Hayden, clenching his teeth together as his grip tightened on her.

     â€œThat’s funny. I wouldn’t have thought you cared so much, Vance,â€� Lazarus shook his head, smiling, as he set the rag aside and began to search through his pack for the needle and thread.

     â€œOh, but I do! If she dies, I lose my money.â€�

     â€œAh, I see,â€� he nodded, still smiling. He finally found what he was looking for. And after threading the needle, and using the same rag he had used to sanitize her wound, he meticulously rubbed the needle in it, dragging the rest of the thread through it as well. “Is that really all you care about, Vance? Money?â€�

     â€œOf course not!â€� he grinned, more sincerely this time. “It’s the challenge that excites me, Laz. Money, I could care less about. Didn’t I tell you that I once sold a priceless artefact to a traveling merchant in the Egyptian desert? All for only some bread, water, and a camel to get me back to Al Kharijah. Supposedly, it was some sort of enchanted relic from some sort of pharaoh in the fifth century. Or some such nonsense.â€�

     â€œHa, so it wasn’t the kind of enchantment that granted you three wishes, eh?â€� he laughed.
“Oh, but it was!�

     â€œAlright, now,â€� Lazarus turned to Autumn, moaning in pain, the expression on his face suddenly growing grave. “Put this in her mouth.â€�

     He handed Hayden a small stick. “Make sure she bites into it.â€�

     He nodded and carefully worked the stick in sideways beneath her lips and finally her teeth.
“Hold her down,� he instructed.

     â€œYes, yes,â€� muttered Hayden, replacing his hands on her wrists and knee.

     Lazarus worked quickly, the tiny needle nearly lost in the fingers of his large hands. Even though he had sanitized them, they still looked rough and dirty, but they were dexterous and gentle as he drove the needle into the tender, inflamed flesh. Autumn shrieked and nearly tore her arms free from Hayden’s grasp as he wasn’t expecting her to react so strongly.

     â€œI said ‘hold her down’!â€� growled Lazarus.

     â€œI am! I am!â€� replied Hayden, quickly regaining control over her.

     As he continued to work the needle in and out of her skin, she continued to wail and resist. Hayden finally had to sit on her legs and hold her arms off to the side. He winced as her small legs pressed into his own wound. When he was just about finished, there was a crack as she snapped the twig in two in her mouth. Lazarus quickly removed the pieces so she wouldn’t choke on them.

     The big man worked in silence, save for Autumn’s screams, until the job was done. Finally, he bit the loose end of the thread and began placing his accoutrements back into his bag.

     â€œCan I let her go now?â€� asked Hayden, growing impatient.

     â€œNot yet. I have to dress it,â€� replied Lazarus, over his shoulder. A moment later he brought out a small leather bag of herbs and some bandages. “This shouldn’t hurt her, but she’ll still try to move. Keep holding her down.â€�

     Hayden nodded, and his friend carefully pressed the herbs to her stitched wound, which grinned on her side like an awkwardly smiling mouth. The skin around the knotted thread made it look as though they were lips pressed together, stifling a laugh. She moaned but didn’t cry out. Soon Lazarus had her ribs carefully bandaged.

     â€œYou’ll have to change these tomorrow morning. You can let go of her now,â€� he said. “I’m finished.â€�
Hayden slowly released her and dismounted her legs. His friend noticed that he wasn’t smiling as he gazed down at her.

     â€œSomething wrong, Vance?â€� he asked, at length, wiping the blood from his hands with one of the rags as though he had just finished working on an engine.

    “No,â€� he said, furrowing his eyebrows at him. “What makes you say that?â€�

     â€œYou just seem so...serious, today,â€� he shrugged.

     â€œI’m tired. I’ve had a long day,â€� he said, sitting back.

     â€œYou’ll have plenty of time to rest then,â€� replied Lazarus, standing up.

     â€œWhat do you mean?â€� Hayden’s eyes widened, a disbelieving smirk began to appear across his face. He didn’t like the tone in his friend’s voice.

     â€œShe cannot be moved for at least three days,â€� he said, plainly. “She needs to rest, to heal. If she’ll heal at all.â€�

     Hayden stood up, an unusual coldness to his eyes. He was on the verge of frowning. “What do you mean, ‘at all’? Of course, she’ll heal! It’s what we do!â€�

     â€œYes, but that’s no ordinary wound, Vance,â€� Lazarus shook his head. “She cannot be moved for at least three days! Keep her warm and give her plenty of water. She probably won’t eat but you can try to feed her. I’ll leave some supplies for you. Also, try to keep her calm; don’t let her change for at least two days. The poison in the knife prevents the wound from healing normally. It could reopen if she changes, not that she should be strong enough to.â€�

     â€œWhat do I look like, Laz? Her nanny? Do I look like her bloody nanny, Laz?â€� he said, staring his friend in the eye indignantly, and holding his arms out as if inviting him to inspect him closely. “I can’t take care of her. We’ll take her back to the Colony tonight.â€�

     â€œDo it and she’ll die, Vance,â€� replied Lazarus, firmly. His cold, hard stone-coloured eyes bore into him. “Your contract will die with her, I can guarantee it. Michael won’t pay for a dead body. And I know how you feel about losing.â€�

     â€œWhy can’t you take care of her? You have more experience than I do with this sort of thing after all.â€� Hayden hesitantly dropped his gaze from the more dominant wolf’s penetrating glare.

     The big man shook his head. “This is your mess, Vance.â€�

     â€œI’ll pay you!â€� he said, quickly. “I’ll pay you for your trouble. Any amount you desire! Just name it!â€�

     Lazarus chuckled, still shaking his head. “Now really, Vance. What use would I have for money?â€� He stepped back towards the bed and gently covered Autumn, who was now shivering with fever. “There’s nothing that you have that I could possibly want, Coyote Boy. How’s that saying go? ‘It’s your bed, you should lie in it’? I said I would help you, not clean up after you.â€�

     Hayden looked away, at the fire. His face, serious, his arms crossed over his chest.

     â€œNow, now, that’s enough pouting. Besides,â€� Lazarus looked him up and down. “You smell terrible. You should rest. Get cleaned up. Who did you have to fight to win her anyway?â€� he gestured towards Autumn. “It’s not something that’s going to follow you, is it? I thought you were supposed to do this quietly. Why don’t you just ask them next time, instead of clubbing them over the head and carrying them over your shoulder? Things might go a bit more smoothly for you.â€�

     Hayden smirked, his face remained turned towards the fire, but his eyes looked up at him craftily. “Well, it’s not like she could have said yes. She was being guarded day and night, and...well, it’s all very complicated, but don’t you worry your pretty, little head. It’s all taken care of, Laz. Tell Michael I’ll see him in three days.â€�
Lazarus shrugged and patted him on the shoulder with a large, heavy hand. “You never seem capable of doing anything the easy way. If she gets worse, give me a howl,� he said, as he ducked out the door. Hayden remained staring into the fire. “Oh,� he said, turning around just outside the threshold. “There’s something else.�
Hayden turned to face him at the seriousness in his voice.

     â€œJust thought you should know to be on guard,â€� he said. “There’ve been sightings of Marked in the area.â€�

     â€œWell that’s just lovely! Thank you for warning me,â€� Hayden exclaimed, sarcastically.

     â€œTake care, Vance,â€� Lazarus disappeared from view.

     Hayden turned back towards the fire, scowling at his ill luck. Three days couldn’t go by fast enough.

     There was a moment of silence followed by that terrible crunching noise of a body twisting into another form, followed almost immediately by a loud, serious ripping of clothes.

     â€œLaz! You blighter!â€� Hayden cried, and stormed outside to fetch his rags.