Ettore | ✔️

𝑬𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏 𝑹𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒔

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The conditions of the farm that the hunters brought them too were horrendous and borderline hellish. The hunters didn't care that some of their livestock had died weeks ago and their bodies were littered throughout the fields and in the barn. There were chicken and pig carcasses laying just outside the front door of their farmhouse. 

The wolf noted all these details as the hunters lead him and the others into one of the outdoor dog kennels, big enough for maybe two labs, but surely not big enough for wolves their size. Whenever they went to pace around they bumped into each other. The wolf stayed in a corner, always watching the hunters. He was devising a plan, but he wouldn't act upon it yet. He needed time, and he knew the hunters were going to give it to him. His side was caked in dried blood from the arrow and it looked like it was infected but he knew that the hunters would fix him up if they wanted him to benefit them.  And sure enough, later that evening, a hunter fetched him and led him into the farmhouse to a sketchy backroom. The hunter held him down while another disinfected the wound and stitched it shut. The one who had done the stitching suggested taking the collar off so the wound would heal faster but the other hunter called him 'stupid.'

The other wolves looked relieved when he returned to the crowded kennel. He gave them a simple head nod and they all relaxed a bit, laying down to rest from the stressful, and traumatic night before. His neck was still burning from the collar around his neck but he was beginning to grow numb to the pain. He figured the skin was adapting and hardening to reduce the damage of the burns.

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Over the next few months, the hunters trained them like hunting and attack dogs. Going through courses and attacking men wearing padded suits. On the night of The Blood Moon, the hunters released the wolves to go after a group of newly turned vampires. 

He had never encountered vampires before. He knew they existed but they had never inhabited the areas werewolves thrived. They were sworn enemies and kept to themselves to keep discourse at bay. The wolves followed him, they still identified him as their leader and his presence leant them comfort and confidence. With his head held high, it signified to the group that he wasn't afraid of the unknown and that they, just like him, could be strong too. 

The group trailed through an unfamiliar forest, the scent of the vampire's clothing lingering in their nostrils. The hunters had snagged the cloak as the vampire fought to flee, it had been a new born and had foolishly lead them back to the coven. He picked up his pace as the scent grew stronger, they were growing nearer. He could feel his hackles raise as a shiver coursed through his spine. It was fear. His eyes hardened and he forced the feeling away. While he was in control, he wouldn't dare show fear, especially in the eyes of his pack. 

He glanced back at the group, their eyes all glowed in the moonlight they reflected how he felt deep down, unsure. His steps became hesitant as he was thrust to the back. Ettore gaining control for the first time in months. The wolf felt a rush of Ettore's emotions, they were strong and intense; nearly crippling. The wolf watched from the back as Ettore tried to shift to his human form, the collar around their neck restraining that ability. 

The pack watched as their leader fumbled around, hackles raised and a scared look in his eyes. His change frightened them, their facades quickly feigning as they realized he was scared of the unknown. The Vampires. The wolf tried to force himself to the front to gain control but somehow, despite his intense pain, Ettore kept control. The wolf snarled in the background begging Ettore to let him have control back, he was going to get them killed.