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18+ Language Violence Mature Content

7. Rocky and cold as ice

by Irishpride13


Warning: This work has been rated 18+ for language, violence, and mature content.

Describing the truce with the hunters as "Strained" is an understatement. Once the truce was made official, some members of the pack inevitably split off. However, to their surprise, Drengr and Long Fang found common ground.

They agreed that the truce with the Long Fangs and Garra de la Plaga was only between them and would not protect any who left. They would be fair game, and this was a stance Long Fang himself took.

As the insults were hurled at Fang, Drengr issued a warning that they had three days before he considered them enemies again, and that he would show no mercy at that time. His words were Menacing and bone chilling cold. Then he added, "You'd best start making tracks."

The deserters growled and bared their teeth, clearly agitated by Drengr's Warning. However, they knew better than to cross the veteran hunter, particularly when he was accompanied by a few of the other hunters from Garra de la Plaga.

Long Fang stepped forward, his voice dripping with disdain, "I suggest you listen to the hunter," but they responded with a spit, "We don't take orders from you, humans. We certainly don't need your protection." Long Fang chuckled darkly, his hand moving to the hilt of his silver dagger. "Oh, he's not giving orders. Consider it a friendly reminder. As for protection, I don't recall offering any. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

With that, The deserters turned on their heels and strode out. The Hunters followed A little while later.

I watched them go with a sense of detachment. I knew they were capable of taking care of themselves, but my loyalty was to the pack. If they decided to stir up trouble in our territory, I knew we wouldn't hesitate to go after them. And the hunters certainly wouldn't be far behind. As I turned to head back to our camp, I couldn't shake the feeling that this truce was hanging by a thread. The tension between our pack and the Garra de la Plaga was still palpable, and I knew that one wrong move could ignite a blood bath that neither side wanted. I made a silent vow to do everything in my power to prevent that from happening.

Part 2.

A few days later, I found myself out hunting, tracking a deer and searching for Izzy. It was during this expedition that I unexpectedly stumbled upon a deserter from the pack. He regarded me with surprise, as though he were the one caught off guard. "Oh, it's the new blood," he sneered. "You've barely been a part of Long Fang's pack for a year, yet you act as if you can do as you please. Pathetic." He proceeded to circle me, scrutinizing me critically.

I responded with a firm tone, "You know damn well you shouldn't be in these woods. You abandoned the pack." He spat out, "To hell with you and the damned pack. Fang doesn't scare me." As he moved closer, I cautiously stepped back, maintaining a safe distance. I could sense his hostility, and I knew I needed to tread carefully.

"What is it that you want?" I inquired, attempting to defuse the escalating tension. He sneered in response, "I'm here to harm something Fang cares about." I couldn't help but roll my eyes, my annoyance evident. "You're wasting your time, and you'll end up getting yourself killed if you persist in this foolishness." And as expected, the fool rushed me.

I couldn't help but smirk at the deserter's lack of perception. He must have witnessed my sparring sessions with Fang, yet it appeared he had failed to recognize my speed and agility. I skillfully sidestepped as he lunged forward, causing him to overshoot his mark. As he stumbled, I seized the opportunity to grab him from behind and pin him to the ground. "You can't be as Stupid as you appear," I sneered, my voice dripping with disdain. "I have no desire to end your life. If I release you, will you. leave without further trouble?"

The deserter defiantly scoffed and resisted, even though I had him securely pinned. Unfortunately, he did precisely what I had hoped he wouldn't. He shifted into his wolf form and grabbed my leg, throwing me with a fierce roar.

I collided with a tree trunk, my back aching a bit, but otherwise, I was unharmed. Quickly, I regained my footing, poised to defend myself. With a feral growl, the deserter charged at me, propelled by his unchecked fury. I deftly sidestepped once more and countered with a powerful kick to his back. This fool continued to let his emotions dictate his actions, and my kick sent him crashing to the ground. As he struggled to rise again, I pressed my foot against his neck, firmly keeping him down. "You've brought this upon yourself," I declared, my voice cold and unforgiving.

Despite his predicament, he managed to grab my leg and throw me, but I had anticipated his move. Riding the momentum, I shifted forms mid-air, landing gracefully on all fours. Now in my wolf form, I growled, confronting him as he charged once more. I adeptly evaded his attack and retaliated with a swift smack to his ribs, simultaneously sinking my claws deep and tearing away flesh to expose muscle and bone.

Despite stumbling initially, the deserter swiftly regained his balance and went for my head. However, the pain from my earlier actions must have finally caught up to him, as the blow was feeble.

His vulnerability was evident, presenting me with an opportunity to strike his ribs once more with all my strength. He howled in agony and clutched his injured side, attempting to retreat. Whimpering in pain, his lifeblood oozed from the open wound in his hand as it attempted to heal itself.

I rushed up behind him and delivered a forceful stomp to his tarsal joint. His howl of pain grew louder, and he dropped to his knees, whimpering. I growled menacingly into his ear, pushing my thoughts into his head, daring him to rise once more. Perhaps it was an attempt to save face, but he launched a sloppy swipe at my stomach. I reacted swiftly, slashing his arm and digging my claws in, dislocating the joint. Then, I grabbed his throat without hesitation and dug my claws in deeper.

Releasing my grip, I stepped back, watching as he transformed back into his human form. He whimpered pathetically on the ground, clutching his injured arm and ribs. I approached him, looming over him as he cowered in fear. Shifting back into my human form, I warned him, my voice low and menacing, "I spared your life this time. Don't assume I'll do it again."

With that, I turned on my heel and walked away, leaving the deserter behind to nurse his wounds and reflect on his choices.

As I walked, I heard a low chuckle behind me. I spun on my heels, ready to confront the deserter, but to my relief, it was Drengr. "If I didn't see you just days after you were bitten, I'd swear you've been a werewolf for years," he joked. Drengr then approached the deserter, taking control of the situation. "I'll handle this. You were warned. The truce won't protect you after deserting your pack."

The deserter weakly attempted to get to his feet, trembling with fear. As he stood, the scent of fear permeated the air, and he glanced back and forth between us. Drengr moved closer, towering over him with cold, unwavering eyes. "May God have mercy on your soul," he declared, drawing his colt. I turned away and braced myself as the thunderous crack filled the air, followed by a thud.

"You handle yourself like an expert," he remarked, devoid of ego, despite having just taken a life. I glanced between the deserter's lifeless body and Drengr.

"Was that really necessary?" I questioned, gesturing toward the fallen man. Drengr responded matter-of-factly, "Yes. No half measures. Sparing them now would only bring you pain later. It offers them a chance to regroup and pose a greater threat down the line. I've been doing this for years, girly."

Drengr's words sent a shiver down my spine. He was right, though. I understood that sparing the deserters now would inevitably lead to more trouble. Nevertheless, it was difficult to come to terms with the fact that sometimes taking a life was the only solution. I gazed down at the lifeless body, feeling a pang of sorrow and regret.

Drengr's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Come on, let's get out of here before anyone else arrives." We turned and began walking away from the scene, the sound of leaves crunching under our feet. While we walked, I couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be a day when violence wasn't the answer. In this world, I knew that day was unlikely to ever arrive.

Part 3

Drengr and I approached the caves with unwavering determination. He knew he was entering a wolf's den alone, but he didn't show any sign of fear. It was still strange not being able to sense his presence. As we neared the entrance, Izzy came running towards me, a look of concern etched on her face. "There you are! Are you okay?" she asked, panting. I furrowed my brows, confused by her question. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I replied. Izzy's expression turned grave. "It's the Deserters," she explained. "They've been attacking us and some of the locals on the outskirts of town. And Carmein is dead." My heart sank at the news.

Drengr spoke up, “That's why I came out here again. Despite there literally being a den of werewolves out here, werewolf attacks are very uncommon in this area. Long Fang keeps a tight hold on this region and keeps other supernatural creatures out of the area. The locals pretend that the strange, wet-dog smelling people they occasionally traded with aren't werewolves, and they turn a blind eye. It's easier that way, and ignorance is bliss. But with the recent attacks, they can no longer deny the truth. They're living in the middle of a supernatural warzone and are caught in the crossfire.”

Long Fang emerged from his tent and fixed his gaze upon Drengr. The Spaniard, undaunted in the presence of an original Alpha wolf, evoked a sense of amusement within me. Long Fang was the first to break eye contact, speaking in a cold but purposeful tone, "How may we humble wolves assist the legendary Drengr Hunter?"

Drengr spoke with a hint of amusement and a slight chuckle. "Well, your old flock has left the roost and now they are killing and attacking locals. We can't have that, especially since they were part of your pack. I was wondering if you or a pack member could lend a hand in taking care of this problem before it escalates or, worse, they start turning people.”

Long Fang seemed to be amused by the situation. "So, you want me or one of my kin to hunt down a former pack member?" He let out a booming chuckle, but before I could step forward, Izzy cut me off and spoke, "The Deserters killed Carmine and tried to attack me as well. They are a problem that must be dealt with one why or the other."

Long Fang shouted at Izzy to be quiet or face consequences. He then turned to Drengr and glared at him with intensity, letting out a low growl. Meanwhile, Drengr yawned and casually chewed on something that smelled like ginger. He wore a look of amusement on his face as he watched the interaction between Long Fang and Izzy.

Drengr matched Long Fang's intense glare, muttering something menacing under his breath. He gripped his gun belt with one hand and brushed his colt with the other. "Capullo, if you want to run it back, I will gladly fill you with holes in front of your whole damn pack," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

The cavern was silent, with neither man breaking eye contact and the tension becoming increasingly palpable. I stepped forward and spoke, trying to diffuse the situation. "Gentlemen! People are dying, pack mates are being killed by their former pack members, and one of these Deserters attacked me and was promptly educated on why that was a bad idea. But still, we are all on the same side here. That is why Garra de la Plaga and The Long Fangs, Agreed to a truce to help each other right.

Long Fang spoke in a low, cold voice. "Fine, you two think we should help the hunters. Then go with Drengr and help resolve the problem by any means necessary."

Izzy appeared to be on the verge of saying something, but Long Fang turned and walked away, cutting her off. Drengr spoke in a tone that was almost affectionate, but his words were quite the opposite. "Why is it that whenever I'm getting into the shite, it's with you two?" He let out a chuckle before adding, "Well, at least you two are easy on the eyes."

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Tue Jan 09, 2024 11:34 pm
Spearmint wrote a review...



Hiya! It's mint, here with a review! ^-^ I'm proud of Sarah's growth-- she was so confident while fighting that deserter, and it looks like she's really gained control over her abilities. (The combat scene was also written well. I could visualize each werewolf's moves.) On the other hand, I'm liking Drengr less and less, which I will elaborate upon later.

This chapter part seemed like a bit of a diversion from the main plot. I looked back at the previous part, and apparently the hunters and the pack have formed an uneasy truce to take down a werewolf who's trying to create a blighted army (which seems to me to be the main conflict). It is understandable that there would be friction while trying to form the alliance. But I do wonder: the hunters were the first to ask the pack for help, so why does it almost seem as if Drengr has more power than Long Fang? Hmm...

Anyways, I'll expand more on my thoughts in these specifics!

Long Fang chuckled darkly, his hand moving to the hilt of his silver dagger. "Oh, he's not giving orders. Consider it a friendly reminder. As for protection, I don't recall offering any. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Here, Drengr and Long Fang seem to be equals. They present a united front.
(Side note, but I wonder whether any hunters were unhappy with this truce?)

I skillfully sidestepped as he lunged forward, causing him to overshoot his mark. As he stumbled, I seized the opportunity to grab him from behind and pin him to the ground. "You can't be as Stupid as you appear," I sneered, my voice dripping with disdain. "I have no desire to end your life. If I release you, will you. leave without further trouble?"

I thought this whole section with Sarah's encounter with the deserter was done well. The action had good pacing, I could understand both sides' motivations, and it was satisfying to see Sarah's character growth. :D I'd just suggest slipping in a sentence or two to let the reader know whether they're in their human or wolf forms at the beginning. ^^

"Was that really necessary?" I questioned, gesturing toward the fallen man.

Here, I'd love to know what Sarah was feeling! Does she dislike Drengr? Reluctantly accept him? How does she feel about Drengr killing one of her former packmates?

It offers them a chance to regroup and pose a greater threat down the line. I've been doing this for years, girly."

Drengr makes a decent point about the deserters regrouping and posing a greater threat, but the way he says "girly" rubs me the wrong way. It sounds so patronizing. XP

The locals pretend that the strange, wet-dog smelling people they occasionally traded with aren't werewolves, and they turn a blind eye.

Haha! It was nice to learn more about how the werewolves interact with the locals. :]

Long Fang was the first to break eye contact, speaking in a cold but purposeful tone, "How may we humble wolves assist the legendary Drengr Hunter?"

Okay, this part is where I sensed an imbalance of power. Why did Long Fang break eye contact first? And how could Drengr be so confident walking in alone? And I get that Long Fang's using sarcasm, but it still seems a bit like he's ceding some power to Drengr when he says that. Hmm. Does Drengr have something he's holding over Long Fang? >.>

I stepped forward and spoke, trying to diffuse the situation. "Gentlemen! People are dying, pack mates are being killed by their former pack members, and one of these Deserters attacked me and was promptly educated on why that was a bad idea. But still, we are all on the same side here. That is why Garra de la Plaga and The Long Fangs, Agreed to a truce to help each other right.

Sarah being the voice of reason. Love that for her <3

He let out a chuckle before adding, "Well, at least you two are easy on the eyes."

Ugh this also sounds so patronizing. I get the feeling that Drengr will become just as much of an antagonist as the rogue werewolf who's creating a blighted army in the future. (Orrrr maybe I just don't like his character, lol.)
Speaking of the blighted army, I'd like some more foreshadowing with that. So far, it hasn't seemed to affect any of the characters beyond some stories. It could ramp up the conflict if you could add an encounter with a blighted werewolf, or some other evidence that this is a big problem. Just some thoughts! :]

Keep writing, and I hope you have a wonderful day/night! =D




Irishpride13 says...


That's how I imagined Drengr he is a cocky. He has been doing this for a long time. I want him to see patronizing a little bit but not too much.



Spearmint says...


I see. Got it!



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Mon Jan 08, 2024 2:57 am
amysays91 says...



I love this. You spent so much time writing it and brainstorming and plotting each character. :)





If you want to make enemies, try to change something.
— Woodrow Wilson