“Bad fish. Really big, bad fish.” Finn chuckled. This Rurik was growing quite quickly on her. He was quite nice, not at all standoffish, and when Finn met someone who was nicely mannered and pleasant, she reciprocated in kind. He was interesting to look at too. He had a strange mane, with what looked sort of like braids, and a piece of metal through his ear and eyebrow Finn had never even thought it possible to have a chunk of metal purposely put in your ear, but it seemed to be a style among many Luperci.

Her eyes drifted back to the sword, which shined in the half light. Finn thought it interesting, and quite pretty. It was hard to believe that something so well crafted could be used to kill. It was a point of contention for herself. On the one hand, she liked the shine and look of them, on the other hand, she did not like that she had absolutely no defense against it. She could not parry with her teeth or claws, and it lengthened the wielders reach far beyond her own. Finn felt a little trill of fear, despite knowing with strong certainty that Rurik would not use it against her unless she gave him a damn good reason to.

”Aye, aye.” Finn replied, imitating his pseudo sternness with what she thought was a serious and dour nod of her own. She couldn’t hold it though and felt another laugh well up inside her. She looked back down to the foot, listening to Rurik’s words anyways. It was the bleeding was sluggish now, soon enough it would be just a thin, pink mark to remind her of how bad she was at swimming. All of her scars were lessons, her missing ear the most vivid of them all. Never trust your family.

As Rurik rattled off the list of languages he knew, Finn’s eyebrows rose higher and higher. ”Impressive.” She managed to say, ”How does all that learning not leak out yer ears?” Finn had a good memory, to be sure, but not that good. She hadn’t even learned one word of the low speech of deer, despite running with one for months. Her tongue just wasn’t meant for anything but English. Then again, she’d never had anyone try to teach her Russian, or German or Romanian. She didn’t even know where those places were!

”In a manner of speaking, yes. I’ve traveled for a while, but I get the feeling it’s all one country. I came from the west, from the other ocean. Took me a while to get here.” The country had rolled on for miles, slowly changing the farther east Finn got. The prairies had been the worst. It was incredibly boring to see where you were going for miles upon miles. Finn looked up at Rurik again, venturing her next question with the slightest caution. ”So, how did you come to be a Luperci?”

Finn snorted, unable to stifle the chuckle that rose from her throat. ”I’m sorry, I mean no offence. I just, heh, I just haven’t heard fish pronounced quite like that.” She tried to look contrite and failed stupendously, as her eyes still sparked with laughter and a smile hovered around her lips. She really hoped Rurik wasn’t too sensitive about her mirth, Finn was well travelled but had problems with knowing what could be construed as rude or not. ”Sharks? I’ve never seen a shark. They can eat wolves too?” She added, vaguely horrified. It seemed she could never escape wolf-eating water-dwelling creatures. They owned the lakes and, apparently, the sea.

”I’ve never liked them much myself. All cold and slimy… I’d rather a rabbit any day.” Finn hadn’t been very good at catching them, either. Even when her life depended on scrounging up another meal she avoided the stream entirely, opting instead to scrounge for field mice like a coyote. There was something about their big, wide, dead eyes and gasping little mouths that made her queasy. Rabbits made high pitched screams when you caught them, but fish just lay there, wiggling as you gnawed away. Her brothers had ate fish with relish, flipping them out of streams with their paws like the bears did, and Finn liked to watch their shows of agility, but she was always somewhere else when it came time for supper.

Finn nodded at Rurik’s words, thinking. Nothing had ever come easily too her, except for being gung-ho about fighting. She hadn’t been very good at it when she started, and it was only through a lot of hard work and scars that she came to be halfway to decent. She had never even looked at a book, though she knew what one looked like, and couldn’t read or write. All in all, she was poorly educated in the ways of mathematics, or science or languages, but she knew how to survive and, until lately, that had been enough.

”Aye, it is. I spent months upon months walking through this place that was as flat as a worn rock. Miles upon miles of emptiness. It was hard hunting there, but I managed. I don’t think I’ll ever return there again, it was terrible in the summer and I usually love the heat.” She missed the mountains sometimes. The only one here was rather lacklustre compared to the harsh, grasping and forbidding peaks of her childhood, but what separated her was that immense, awful plain, and Finn didn’t think she could cross a second time and return with her life.

Finn fidgeted uncomfortably, seeing how on guard she had put Rurik. ”It’s all right,” She assured him, ”I’ve never walked on two legs, not like you can, I don’t think I have another form.” Her family lived in remote region, and rarely had much to do with the other packs. Finn’s suspicion of large groups of wolves had been inherited from Cuhlain Fidh, who shunned the large pack structure and opted instead to take care of and protect his immediate family and his immediate family only.

The whole Luperci thing, distressed Finn. She wanted to do what the others could do, and hated not having the option of being able to change. But at the same time, striving to become a Luperci seemed like something she wasn’t supposed to do. She was born a wolf, right? Shouldn’t she remain with what form she had been given? Finn felt like she was missing out, and knew that it decreased her chances of winning a fight when her opponent could change into something with a much longer reach. One of these days, she would pick a fight with the wrong wolf, and then there would be no more fighting, no more travelling, no more living.

”What is it like, though? To be able to walk around on two legs? To use a sword?” Finn’s curiousity returned in full force. There were still so many questions to ask, and she found that the time passed quickly as she conversed with Rurik.

"Well, that’s good. If I hadn’t known that I might never have gotten out of this cave." Said Finn. It was true, she could barely swim as it was, and the idea that there were wolf eaters loose in the water with her would have kept Finn on trapped in the grotto till judgment day. She settled again, glad that the Russian appeared to be so easygoing. She’d been enjoying herself in these lands lately. All the wolves she had come across were, at the very least, polite. Some were quite enjoyable to talk to, and Finn counted Rurik in the latter of these categories.

Traveling with a deer brought about less social interaction than Finn would have liked. Too often she found herself avoiding the company of others to protect the deer, or found that wolves tend to shy away from scarred wolves who are accompanied by live prey. Finn enjoyed Alastair’s comfort, but eventually the longing to converse with other canines became much too strong. Here, she was quite relieved that he couldn’t follow her down the steep cliffs, as she might not have swum into the cave if he had been on the beach, and thus never met Rurik.

”I have to be a fan of hot weather, the only other option in this country is it’s cold winters. Despite the fact that I’m a northern wolf, I seem to have unnaturally thin fur. The only reason I survived my first years was because I nearly clung to my brother’s side.” Brom had protected her when the blizzards raged, and when her father ran out into the whiteness to howl along with the winds. He had comforted her with his slow, steady voice as Aegnus paced and snarled with impatience and nerves until Cuhlain finally deigned to return.

Once Finn had put the mountains behind her the cold had lessened considerably, though it had still been difficult out on the plains. Her fur was curly, and thin and the scars didn’t help much as they exposed yet more skin to the elements. Brom and Aegnus had been damned near fluffy with fur, and though her father was similar to Finn pelt-wise, he was probably too crazy to care. That had been the usual way of life for Finn, till the day she left home. She didn’t miss the insanity, but she did miss someone warm to curl up next too when the tempests came.

”I’ve heard tell of that.” Finn said, ”Blood can usually pass the trait over. And sex.” Finn added with a shrug and a blush. She shifted, suddenly and painfully aware of her embarrassment. She stared at the wall over Rurik’s shoulder, trying not to meet his piercing, pale eyes. Though Finn wasn’t a very good judge of attractiveness in Luperci, she had to admit that Rurik was pretty high on the scale. His scars helped, she always liked scars, and the tattoos gave him a sort of devil-may-care look, and his fur was a nice colour.

But she and Rurik were quite different in many respects. Finn never thought of herself as beautiful, or even vaguely pretty. At night she’d fretted over this problem, knowing that it would be hard to find a mate who didn’t mind at all what his woman looked like. She’d have to hope for someone who liked her for her personality, and how many of those were there in the world? Though she’d carried a torch for a couple wolves over the meager three years of her life, Finn had never said anything, never told them.

She shuffled again, trying to think of another subject change. Her eyes roamed along the belt till they reached a glass bottle full of liquid, and Finn all but blurted out, ”So, what is that stuff?” She held her breath, knowing how blatantly she had mishandled that whole situation. Her mind was still stuck on the topic, and it whirled around like a train on a single, circular track. The doubts from the many night before rose like ghosts, shaking their clanking manacles in the theater of her mind. She wouldn’t find a mate, in all likeliness. Or have cubs.

She’d be alone, and it was all because she’d wasted her looks brawling and fighting and getting all scratched up. Not that it was likely she’d inherited any good looks to begin with. Neither her father nor her brothers had been lookers. She probably had failed the genetics test too. It was just her lot in life to be “the friend”, an amorphous entity inhabiting the purgatory between the circles of “woman” and “fighting buddy”. She’d screwed it all up, thank you very much, and all that she could hope for was to die and be reincarnated as someone more beautiful, interesting or both.

”Agreed,” Finn said. She couldn’t be truly happy unless she had the wide sky above her. She had grown so used to being in high altitudes, where the sky and the mountains were the only thing for miles. When she had looked out from the cliffs here, she’d had the same feeling. Nothing but water and sky till the end of the horizon. It was beautiful, awe-inspiring and frightening. The idea of all that water, in one place and reaching unimaginable depths, scared Finn silly. She would never take to the sea. That, she knew for certain. Times may change and seasons pass, but the day Finn got on any kind of boat would be the day Hell froze over.

Still, she was envious of the freedom Rurik had. He could sail anywhere he wanted, down to the southern lands or back across the ocean to Europe. Finn could only go so far as her feet and strength would let her. Compared to a ship, the distance she had traveled was peanuts. It was a sad thought, knowing that there was so much more out there, and knowing at the same time that she would never, ever get to see it. Maybe she could get Rurik to tell her some of his stories. He’d surely been somewhere other than here, seen things Finn had not. She collected stories like others collected gold or clothes, guarding them as fiercely as any dragon.

”Aye, fall in this country is beautiful. All the trees changing colour and dropping their leaves…” Finn liked autumn and summer the most. spring was too wet, winter too cold, but The blistering heat and tumultuous storms of summer and the gentle breezes and twirling leaves of fall were incomparable. Back in British Columbia, it had been all winter, all the time. Snow up to her eyeballs and winds so strong they could strip your fur off if you so much as poked your head out of your den. She’d left those lands hastily, even the abyssal prairie had been preferable to that.

Finn stilled, completely blindsided by Rurik’s almost flippant offer. ”I, uh, that is... generous of you?” She stuttered, ear flickering. The wolf couldn’t believe that he’d thrown that proposition out there so easily. Did he just not care? Finn paused, some of the edginess leaving her. She was silent for a long moment, weighing the options. It could have been a joke, he could have been just playing with her, it was entirely possible. Or he could be dead serious. She shuffled again, looking towards the pool, unaware of what to say.

How did one respond to such a statement? Finn was out of her element here, and it was with great relief that Rurik picked up the topic changed easily enough. She stared at the proffered bottle and the splashing liquid inside. She knew it was alcohol, her father had told many stories and there was always drinking whenever Luperci were involved, but she’d never actually tried it. She shrugged, moving closer. ”Sure, I’ll have some.” Finn replied, ”Can’t be too bad tasting, right?”

She glanced up again at Rurik, who was much closer now, and licked her lips nervously. ”Ah, should I just slurp some up? Or could you pour some into my mouth. I wouldn’t want to waste it, I’ve heard rum isn’t exactly common here.” She didn’t know of any wolves who’d set up distilleries in Nova Scotia, and had no idea if anyone had been so enterprising as to set up shipping lines from Europe. Possibly, some wolf had discovered who to make moonshine somewhere, but if they had Finn hadn’t heard anything.

”Yes.” Obediently, eyes nearly crossed as she tried to look at the cup, Finn lapped down the drink in one quick motion. For a moment, it was fine, and she grinned a little, feeling sheepish. Then the burning started. It worked it’s way down her throat like she’d swallowed flaming gasoline, ending in her stomach like the explosion of an atomic bomb. Finn gasped and coughed, eyes tearing up as the heat spread, flashing through her veins and spreading out to her limbs. The cool she had been feeling since her little swim was banished, disappearing like shadows before the sun.

”That is…” Finn said, grimacing a little, ”That is… really good!” She snorted in disbelief, but now that the original scalding feeling had passed the rum settled in her stomach with a pleasant weight. She let out a breath, surprised at how much less awkward she felt. Her body was warm, the aftertaste was quite pleasant once you got used to it, and Finn was looking at Rurik in a different light. A happy smile crossed her face, and she tilted her head, looking her companion over again with a much more contemplative eye.

”Aye, nothing wrong with a little fun.” She moved a little closer, thankful that Rurik had crouched down. Now they could see eye to eye, and Finn’s danced merrily, her smile growing wider and more mischievous. She could hardly think of a better place for some “fun” than this, though she could hardly think at all. Having never had alcohol before, Finn could not have been more drunk. Her thoughts moved like sluggish, little clouds, bumping and scudding through her head as if moved by a leisurely summer breeze. She swayed a little, chuckled at her lack of balance, and looked to Rurik once more.

”I hope you don’t mind, but I think I’ll take up your offer while you’re here. Much easier than trying to track you down.” She leaned even closer, meeting his gaze boldly. Everything that had passed through her head before was gone, all the worries and fears. She was all right, she was okay. Finn was starting to take a real liking to that rum stuff. After this was over, she’d have to track down someone who could make more. But, she’d needs hands to drink it.

Her eyes traveled across Rurik’s face, from his pale eyes to his dreadlocked hair to the golden earring that gleamed in the half-light. She really liked Rurik. He was good company, a friend. There was nothing wrong with what she was doing, none at all. The idea that there was no going back after this, after becoming a Luperci was edging into her mind, but she shook her head to ward it off. ”I hope I can trouble you for another sip of that?” She asked, trying to speak with a polite, Scottish brogue and slurring her words horribly. More alcohol would take care of those fears, send them scuttling away to the back of her mind for now. That was all she needed right now, peace of mind and Rurik.

She leaned in to the touch, feeling his slim fingers run over her fur and her scars. It was nice, she had spent so many years fighting that the only touch she knew was that of violence. Teeth and claws rending at her skin. This was something different, gentler and comforting. So much could be conveyed through a light hand and she found herself laughing inwardly at her own stupidity. She’d never known how nice it was to be touched like this. Sure, Brom had nuzzled her in brotherly affection, and Aegnus had sometimes pulled his punches so they were only soft taps, but this was something new.

Her ear flickered as Rurik stated he would shift, with such a determined and no nonsense voice. She had met a few Luperci lately and she was beginning to understand that some did not like to change. Some took their two legged forms and never shifted back. She didn’t know how Rurik felt, but Finn intended to communicate her gratefulness towards his generosity soon enough. She watched with interest as he removed his clothing, and listened to the echoes in the cave as the metal of the belt buckle clattered on the rocks. Rurik looked much more natural now, in just his fur.

She had never seen a Luperci shift. It looked complicated, all those joints and bones shifting and sliding. She half expected Rurik to make some murmur of pain, it didn’t look natural, looked like it would hurt. But, against all her beliefs he looked up at Finn and smiled, and she felt her heart give a little leap. Her body was hot, on fire, and she padded forward, touching her nose to his. He smelled good, it was like all the foreign lands he had been to had left their smells in his coat.

She caught a hint of spices, of icy winter wind, of salty ocean. Finn breathed in again, running her muzzle along his neck. He was warm too she could feel it radiating off him and she moved a little closer. The blood was buzzing in her ears like bees and Finn couldn’t make herself care about the state of the world if she tried her hardest. There was just this cave and Rurik. ”You know, I wanted to do this the moment I saw you.” Finn murmured in his ear.

It was true, she just tended to hide all that stuff away. Any thought that passed beyond the realm of friendship was usually kidnapped, gagged and locked in a box so it couldn’t get out. She had believed Rurik was beyond her grasp, out of her league, with his worldly ways and handsome smile. But here he was, so close to her that she could hear his heartbeat. It was nearly unbelievable, but stranger things have happened. Finn had been missing something, tripping through the world and unable to share her feelings. It was nice to get it all out, a release of sorts.

Finn looked over Rurik again. It was much easier now to tell that he was good-looking. She could admire his muscles and colouring in a much more familiar form. She found herself wondering what it would be like to mate in Luperci form, with hands to run across his pelt and entirely different body shapes. Maybe next time, once she had contracted the virus and learned to shift. Maybe, after parting with Rurik she’d come across him one day and surprise him with her new form.

The gray wolf stilled for a moment as a new thought made its way out of the throng. She drew back a little, sitting on the very edge of the rock, trying not to look foolish. ”Rurik, I… I don’t know what to do.” She admitted, looking away with embarrassment. If she were human, her skin would have gone beet red. She had never had sex before, and the thought made her blush even harder. Others had scores of children by the time they were three, and she hadn’t even been with someone. She really hoped Rurik wouldn’t laugh, and hoped even more that he wouldn’t spurn her.

Her father had never explained the birds and the bees, neither had her brothers and Finn was partially glad for that as it would have been extremely awkward. But she was lost here, adrift without an oar on a entirely new ocean she had never even sailed upon. She looked at Rurik again, nerves returning in full force. She really didn’t want to screw this up, but her plans often seemed to fail and things she coveted slipped from her grasp. Finn really wanted this time to be different.

Oh, that smile. If Finn had any qualms before, they were shed after seeing that smile. Her stomach flip-flopped as if she had stumbled in the dark, or tread wrong on crumbling rock. His words when she told him that she was a virgin nearly made her heart melt. She’d heard plenty of stories before, about what love was or how it felt, but love had never been a truly real thing for Finn. She had liked some of her family, but never loved them. She had liked other wolves, but never loved them. It was a mythical emotion, entrenched in stories and tales, out of reach for normal, everyday wolves. What she felt right now, she sure, but it had to be the closest she’d ever been to loving someone. The noises that came from Rurik’s throat made her pulse beat faster, and by the time she turned and felt his weight on her back, she wanted him, body and soul.

*** SEXY TIEMS! ***

It was done. Finished. Finn lay beside Rurik on the rocky surface of the grotto, amongst the glittering gold and long lost human treasures. Her chest rose and fell, slowing each time. She stayed there a moment, a content smile on her lips, pressed close to her lover. She had never known what she had been missing, and she felt a warm, happy glow inside. It had been quite amazing. But now, as the post-coital bliss began to fade, reality was edging it’s way in through the door. She had slept with someone, someone she had just met this morning. She’d gotten drunk and slept with someone and now, now she had probably had contracted the virus.

”What was I thinking?” She whispered, so quietly that only herself could hear. Her eyes snapped open, darting around the cave, across Rurik’s face. She shouldn’t have done it. She shouldn’t even have taken a sip of that wonderful, courage bestowing, inhibition removing alcohol. She sat up, looking about with anguish. She done wrong, and it was as if her father was here in the cave, his rasping voice echoing in the corners, filling Finn’s ears. She looked down at Rurik again, feeling horrified and dreadful simultaneously.

”I’m sorry.” She said, backing away till the cave wall hit her rump. She started, flattening her single ear and trying her very best not to listen as Cuhlain find raved and ranted, just like he used to. He shouldn’t be here, couldn’t be here. He knew, though. Somehow he knew that the daughter he’d raised as a son had gone and done bad. He’d have Aegnus give her a thrashing. But that was only if Aegnus could catch her. Finn darted forward, briefly pressing her nose to Rurik’s neck, taking in his wonderful scent for the last time.

”I’m so sorry.” She whispered in his ear, before dashing away to the where the stone fell into a miniature cliff edge, and the water licked and lapped at her toes. It would be cold, it would be frightening. But Aegnus and Cuhlain were worse than drowning. She threw herself off the ledge, legs already pin-wheeling before she hit the surface. There was an almighty splash, the shock of cold, salty water, and then Finn was swimming, thrashing through the water and out the cave opening. It was still day when she climbed up the beach, sodden, ragged and wild-eyed.

She looked up, following the cliff edge to where Alastair waited for her, his red-brown figure crowned by that familiar branch of antlers. She struck out in that direction, gaining speed as she went. The alcohol was still in her body, but the sex and the cold water had removed most of the side effects, and as she ran her body felt faster and more coordinated. Her mind, however was worsening. She’d committed the crime her father had always told her not to do. “Lie, cheat, kill or steal, do whatever you must to survive,” He said, “But never, never become one of them.”

A howl rolled over the cliff, dashing itself on the rocks below. It sounded enough like her elder brother to lend even more strength to her strides, and fuel the fear that pumped through her veins like poison. She reached the top of the cliff and looked down to where the cave had been. Any moment now Rurik would come out, hurt and confused, maybe even angry. Finn felt a sob well up in her chest, but she tamped it down, choking out another ”I’m sorry.”

She wasn't quite sure who she was apologizing to, Rurik or her father. Finn turned away, fleeing into the rolling hills, Alastair at her side. Not for the first time in her life, Finn ran. But this was the first time she had truly felt ashamed. She hoped she never saw Rurik again, for if they met and he was angry with, she might forget that handsome, heart-catching smile of his. And that was something Finn never wanted to forget.