Red Knights, White Knights

Does everything have to have rules? Something to put people in line whether they want to be there or not? Is that really what we have to live by? I storm out of the cabin into a snowy sunset and take off running, slamming the door behind me. I make sure the door makes a good, thick sound so that every person inside could hear it. My brother was getting on my last damn nerve and I just couldn't take it anymore.

I bit down on my bottom lip as I felt the pain branch out through my veins and the feeling of my body morphing into an unnatural shape. The moment my two legs transformed into four the pain subsided and I smiled in my mind. This was me, this was what I was born to be. I sprinted through the cold woods, not stopping at anything until I reached it. It was a forbidden spot for anyone of the pack to go. Oh, but it was my favorite.

I dug my claws into the loose ground and slid to a halt, making some snow drift off the edge. Smoke rose from the village chimneys and people bustled around with purpose as they hid behind their knitted coats and scarves below. I got low on my belly and let the setting sun light rest on my fur. My brother tells me not to come here all the time. He's afraid hunters will see me and shoot me on the spot, but this place hasn't been used in years and it's fun to see how hunters work from the inside.

I see a mother with a strawberry basket take hold of her child's hand and swinging their linked palms back an forth. They started to skip towards what I guessed was their home, the mothers white scarf blowing in the wind and the child's red coat shone beautifully against the snow. It reminded me of a song that the pack mothers would sing to their kids for fun when ever they asked to be entertained. I hummed it in my head, picturing the little circle of kids skipping in union in my head.

That was when I felt it. The most painful sensation burrowed into my right ribcage and I howled looking for the son of a bitch. There sticking out of my side was a red feathered, hot coal arrow and just as I saw it, I smelled them. That stench of sweat and fear mixed together to complete what I identified hunters with. There were three of them, one ran off to fetch the rest of their hunting party and I cursed on the inside. Another was pointing a burning arrow at me and the other was holding both a spear and a burlap sack. I growled and bore my teeth at them, trying to look as threatening as possible.

"Leave me alone you bastards!"

I took a step towards them and snapped my jaw at them, the best I could right now was try to scare them off. But no, they just couldn't take a friggin' hint. Mr. Arrows fired another one and it landed by my right paw, I took a few steps back as the flame died in the snow. Brilliant, just brilliant.

Right when I was about to turn and attempt what I knew was foolish, three wolves jumped from the bushes. The brown, massive one I recognized as my brother and I watched as he launched himself at arrow guy's throat. The snow turned red in pools within in an instant, like a perfect, unsuspecting innocence turned dark in a blink of any eye. I felt someone nudging me forward.

"Run!"

I ran as fast as my side would let me. I grit my teeth as the movement irritates the wound. Oh, I was so screwed when I got home. I could hear my brother now, pacing and looking at me in that classic condescending way of his, telling me I was a danger to the pack.

The four of us stopped at the cabin and I shifted back into the two legged thing that I was. Laying on my side in the snow, I bit down on my lip and tugged the arrow out of my ribs. A strangled cry escaped my lips and I shoved my face into the snow. The cold nipped at my skin, but I welcomed it against the burning sensation I felt now.

"We have medics ya' know. You didn't have to do that," a patrol member, changed back into human form, said looking down at me.

"Oh, but I did," I growled through my teeth.

He just shrugged his shoulders and escaped to the cabin. His buddy following behind him, leaving me alone with my brother in the cold. Cowards. He was standing over me now, grey eyes blazing with that temper of his and hands on his hips. He offered his hand and I ignored it, pushing myself off the ground. He just grunted.

"Where do I begin..." he said, pondering it like an actual question.

So the scolding was starting early.

"Oh I don't know, something along the lines of 'I'm a danger to the pack' or how badly I embarrass 'The Great Damon'. Isn't that what they're calling you these days?" I spit with a little more venom than I intended.

For a minute I could see the anger and frustration rise to his features, and then disappear under his poker face. I didn't dare push him when he was like this and I was already having a bad day to begin with.

As if on queue, my side started throbbing and I placed my hands over it, wincing at the contact. Dammit, I hated being hurt in front of people. It made me feel so exposed, like an alive animal taken to the butcher and being chained down to the slaughter table.

"Don't you ever think of anyone but yourself? What if that was a larger hunting party? I'll bet you anything that not everyone would have made it back!" He said, his voice stern.

I just stood there, looking at him. Then I smiled, I smiled a crooked smile.

"Bravo, your every bit like dad," turning on my heels, I started walking to the cabin. I didn't have to take this, and I sure as Hell wasn't taking it from Damon.