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With three dead buried, Gabriel had enough. He had begun gathering supplies almost as soon as they were covered, and in doing so found himself some assistants. There had been a need for fighters and for subversion, which was why two of the Hydra had been taken. Gabriel would not take on Haku without Hybrid, unwilling to put his faith in the chocolate wolf facing him one on one. Jedidiah had not left his side since the men had been buried, and though no part of the Aquila doubted the coyote’s faith, whether or not his fighting prowess was the same was up for debate. Of course, Cotl had been all too willing to go along with Gabriel’s plans, talking frantically about moltov cocktails and something or another between his excitable cursing.
The trek had been long, as Gabriel had led the coyotes down the road that circled wide of Dahlia de Mai. They could not come from Inferni, and from what the Aquila had learned the majority of the pack lived further south. If they could strike in the heart of the wolf pack and draw out its head, they could destroy it. At least, that was the plan. Whether or not such a bold idea would work did not matter to Gabriel, provided he got to see Haku’s home burn (hopefully, with him inside). They were lucky to have no confrontations as they drew closer to the borders, and once across, no time was wasted. It took only a few moments for the shift to his Optime form, something he did not wish to linger in long. Gabriel moved with hellish speed, finding Haku’s scent and trailing it to the source. A cabin, reeking of the bastard, was his reward.
A small can of kerosene and a box of matches, pulled from the grenade-bag around his chest, did exactly what it was meant to do. Though small, the fire attacked the decaying wood and began to swallow it whole. Within minutes, Haku’s cabin was burning—and Gabriel, his eyes lit by that holy fire, was laughing even as he shifted back to his lupus form. Four legged, the Aquila continued to laugh, and welcomed the sickness that rushed up from the shadows deep in his soul.
This was the war he knew; one of perdition.
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