Michael "Monster" Molinelli Jr.'s Story

Tensions were high as black SUVs surrounded a small home on the outskirts of Rose, Italy. Speedboats came along the waterside of the home, docking and releasing a number of men and women dressed in black and armed with crossbows, rosaries, and holy water. It was like a scene from a movie as they swarmed the house and kicked down the doors, crashing in through the windows. Who were they and why were they there? An average onlooker wouldn't have the slightest idea, figuring that the rather peaceful residents might be drug dealers. Anyone looking at the scene could tell that the residents were either not there or the suits simply didn't find what they were looking for. A rather official looking man emerged from the home, ripping off his tie and throwing it to the ground before dropping to his knees in prayer. The house was completely devoid of life, not a single trace of vampire in the home. Either the leeches knew they were coming or their source was lying. Doctor Lennox was displeased that their trip to such a pitiful excuse for a town had turned out to be a waste of a ten hour drive and three hour preparation with a team of thirty men and women. They would be back on their way to Rome now, leaving in a hurry and without a care as plans were made to torture their prisoner for correct information this time around. As they drove away, golden orbs gave a light shine from the bushes nearby. Anyone looking from the outside would have sworn to Heaven and back that it was a giant black bear that was watching them before taking off.

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“Papa! Papa!” Janelle was the first to greet her father as he walked through the door. The burly man had anticipated her jump and caught her midair, swinging around with her. “Janelle, quello che ti ho detto di battere la gente a scuola?” His deep voice was stern as he stopped spinning with the small girl and watched as her green eyes were cast down. “Mantenere al minimo e non dimenticare di farle tenere la bocca chiusa.” He nodded as he set her down on the floor. “Esattamente. Quindi - La prossima volta, meglio tornare a casa per una storia la vittoria meno la chiamata dai vostri insegnanti.” The Italian man planted a kiss atop his daughter's head and ushered her off to finish her lunch before taking off up the stairs to the “Alpha Cave”. His room was the largest bedroom in the house and it was filled with things that you'd think you'd find in a hunter's lair; Trophy heads from various animals, a bear skin rug, fur blankets. The only things he didn't have were guns, having a particular distaste for the weapons.

The Alpha shed his uniform suit and tossed it into the hamper before donning a simple black tank top that hugged his cut muscles and a pair of loose denim pants, sliding a belt through the loops; he wasn't a fan of the sagging style. He let out a brief sigh of relief, hardly feeling comfortable in a suit even after so many years of being stuck in one. He ran his fingers through his thick, ebony mane as he left his room only to come face to face -sort of- with his son. Little Monster Mike looked up to his father with his innocent, soulful blue eyes as he spoke. “Ho bisogno di un nuovo libro. La Psicosintesi. E ' del dottor Assagioli tesi di dottorato.”, he stated plainly before walking away from his father to join his twin in the dining hall for steak before dinner would be started. He was hoping that his father would take them hunting.

The Alpha gave a curt nod with a lifted brow and parted his lips to warn his son about his hijinks, knowing that Monster and Trouble were planning something for the vampires, but the adorable boy was already running away to plot and chow with his sister. Shaking his head, the older man found his gaze shifting to the left. He walked down the hall some to meet a dead end where the wall was covered with picture frames holding portraits and pictures of all members of the Lupi Luna Pack, past and present. His favorite was that of himself with his mother. Janelle Chloe Carter (nee Molinelli) was one of the eight children of Alberto Molinelli and the last one to die. His mother, his uncles, his aunts, his grandmother, and his grandfather. They had all died at the hands of the Cacciatori but all of them -even himself- were too fool to look past their war with others to think the humans were capable of it. As Michael looked back now, thinking about how some things didn't add up... He knew it had been them.

And they would pay.

He didn't know when or how, but they would. Lately, he felt like giving up and sometimes he felt as though his family were all rolling over in their graves. His own brother and Beta with a vampire fetish, his Delta a halfbreed who seemed (embarrassingly) more Wolf than most of the other purebreds in the Pack, and his Scout a Half-Breed running around with a handicapped human trying to have the best of both worlds. If the pickings weren't so slim and her loyalty not so...wishy-washy, he would have killed the fool of a human by now. But, so long as he was safe (or alive, at least) she remained. Michael tended to brush off the smaller wolf when she moaned and groaned about his children harassing her and her human.

He honestly didn't care and assured her that she was doing it to herself. But, she was just a stupid kid. She wouldn't listen. That was fine. When they both realized how dangerous it was for them to be together, he wouldn't have to kill anyone. For now, he had just banned the boy from his land. While she was an irritating little thing, Juliana still had Wolf in her and her cousin, Grace needed her. Right now, he didn't have time to worry about some stupid girls though. He needed to find his brother. And Scarlet. He definitely needed to find Scarlet.

Heaving a heavy sigh, the Alpha turned away from the wall and made his way downstairs in the massive cabin out the in woods. This home was designed to house an entire Pack. As a child, he could remember when his mother ruled nearly fifty wolves. This home wasn't originally designed to be a home for everyone, but for those who had no other place to go. His grandfather had built this home with his wife and children after migrating to Rose from Rome.

It was originally just a secret summer home hidden in the hills of the forest of Luna for he and his family. Albeit, a large one. But he welcomed his Pack members when they needed a roof over their heads. It was the one place of his that the Cacciatori never found. Those who had gotten close died before coming within two hundred yards of the cabin by the lake. Michael had inherited two hundred acres of the forest from his grandfather who had been buying land for decades. It was great because it was all posted and hardly anyone trespassed. Those who did usually turned up dead anyways.

Michael had been raised in this house with twelve other young Werewolves - There were so many memories here. And now he was welcoming vampires...His grandfather and mother would take turns skinning him alive if they were standing before him right now. But maybe they would understand. This was for the survival of their races. If they knew what he knew, they wouldn't be so angry. He closed his eyes for a few moments and then opened them as he made his way into the large main dining room where his two children were hovering over a plate of raw steak and a piece of paper. They were incorrigible.

“Scarlet!” He threw his head back and called for her, letting loose a howl afterward that reverberated from every corner of the house and echoed outside as he called for his Sentinel.

It didn't take long for Scarlet to appear, an old fashioned camera in one hand while her other hand brushed leaves from her hair. “Hai chiamato?”, she said with an easy smile as she stopped in front of Michael.

Junior and Janelle looked over as Scarlet came around a corner, seemingly occupied with a camera before glancing at Michael. The children's faces lit up with bright smiles, readying themselves to dash away from the large table and embrace her with a hug - Janelle mostly wanted to tell her about the boy that she had beat up earlier at school and sent to the hospital with both legs broken. She was literally one narrowing of the eyes away from getting expelled. It was times like these when Mike wished that they had teachers in the Pack like they used to; younger Werewolves tended to have a lot of trouble getting through school with a perfect record.

Focusing on the task at hand, he gave his children a stern nod so that they returned to their scheming before wrapping Scarlet in a tight hug. “Ho fatto. Ho bisogno di tenere un occhio su alcuni dei vampiri. Non preoccupatevi di pattuglia, dovrò Grazia e Paolo su di essa in tua vece.” Scarlet happily returned Michael's hug, focusing on not thinking too much about his arms around her. “Nessun problema, Capo.” Scar replied with a playful smile as she pulled away.

He gave her a bashful smile as he reached up, towering over her even more as he did, though he was only scratching the back of his head. “E ho bisogno di guardare Ryder intorno a quelle zanne femminili ... e non esitano a dirmi quando esce di linea.” Rather than speaking of “stepping out of line” as people usually did, referring to rude or hostile behavior, he was more concerned with Scarlet checking to see if Ryder would be flirting. His dark brown eyes were pleading with hers as he looked into her blue orbs, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Scarlet placed a gentle hand over his and met his gaze, “Non ti preoccupare, terrò d'occhio la situazione.” She made a promise with a reassuring smile. He was the Alpha of the Pack so following his orders was literally written into her DNA, but with Michael, Scar would have done so anyway.

In the background, Janelle was making kissing noises and little Mike was rolling his eyes, obviously displeased. Mostly because he had a childlike crush on Scarlet, partly because his sister was being immature and he thought it was unbecoming of her. He grabbed her hand and their notebooks, exiting quickly with a glare towards his father. Michael gave a soft laugh and lifted a brow at Scarlet. “Credo che dovrei guardare fuori. So che il tuo ragazzo è pazzo geloso.” A teasing smirk appeared on his face as he let his eyes roam over the female in front of him as he quickly changed the subject to something lighter.

Scarlet couldn’t help but laugh at Michael’s remark. “Io avrei paura anche se piccolo Mike mi ha messo sulla sua lista nera.” She joked, the corners of her mouth lifting up into her own smirk. Scar ran a hand through her hair, turning slightly to watch the children leaving the dining room. “Ma non preoccuparti, io ti difenderò.” She added, her smirk turning into a grin as she gazed back up at the Michael.

“Oh? Scarlet proteggere me. Mi sento talmente sicuro.” That actually made him chuckle a bit as he tried to imagine a situation in which the much tinier female Wolf would ever be in a position to defend him. That was mostly his ego talking; He was a pretty big guy. Most people never pegged him as a doctor. They always assumed that he was a mechanic or a construction worker. Or a model. It was flattering.

Scar gave a nonchalant shrug before raising her eyebrows and smirking at the large Alpha. “Va bene allora, mi limiterò a sedersi e guardare come il mio ' fidanzato geloso ' ti insegna a non giudicare in base alle dimensioni.”, she teased, flashing Michael a cheeky smile. Scarlet couldn’t imagine a time when she would be needed to defend the giant standing in front of her, especially not against his nine year old son. That didn’t mean that she wasn’t willing to tease him about it though.

He gave her another hug as he checked his watch and gave a sigh. “Vamps dovrebbe essere sempre presto. Gioia.”

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One week. For one week, she had been shoved into a room that she shared with all the other vampires. She didn't just share the room with them, she was bunking with them. Sure, the beds had curtains in front of them to be pulled shut and the beds were very comfortable and the room was light tight... But how the hell was she supposed to get any privacy sharing a bedroom with seven other vampires? It was outrageous! She didn't even have enough closet space to fit all of her clothes, having to ship quite a few outfits out to her home in Iceland. Now she only had twelve measly outfits. It was barbaric. Okay... Not really. But she did enjoy having her privacy and her choices. For the past few days, she had contemplated simply leaving for a Coven more of her...caliber. But she decided that being this close to the Wolves was a once in a lifetime opportunity that no other Coven would be able to grant her. That, and she enjoyed that none of the other vampires pried for information. Though, the lack of conflict was an absolute bore. She'd have to make some trouble later.

Regardless of whether she felt like leaving or not, here she was. She was the first to rise, her eyes open long before the sun had begun to set. She had been lying with the curtain pushed back some so that she could feel the warmth of the sun stinging the side of her face. Cheveyo's blood was wearing off and the sun was beginning to irritate her flesh but she found it comforting nonetheless. As the sun said its farewell, she pulled the small curtain over the window shut and rolled over, right out of bed. She was the first to shower out of the eight and she took her sweet time doing so. The water was hot enough to burn flesh but it didn't bother her any. She enjoyed the heat, as it reminded her of her childhood when her father would find hot springs for them to bathe in. It was always a nice break from the usual ice and snow.

She opted for a rather “Plain Jane” outfit for the night, as opposed to her usual choice of clothing that didn't quite seem to fit the small village of Rose and most certainly not the surrounding forest of Luna. But her black and white outfit was just plain enough while at the same time satisfying the vampiric necessity to look fabulous. Her hair was dry within seconds after a quick bit of pacing at top speed, leaving her hair as fabulous as she was. But perhaps that was just her ego speaking.

Pshaw! What ego? She was simply...confident.

A fanged smile of bliss on her face, she left the bathroom, her fingers curled around the silver chain that rest around her neck before making her way out of the shared bathroom, through the shared bedroom, and down. She hadn't taken too long earlier that week to map out the entirety of the massive log cabin and she had to admit that she adored the architecture. Many parts of it were newer, more modern. It had been updated to accommodate the inhabitants. But there were still unchanged parts of it that she could simply stare at all day. Like that entrance! Positively perfect!

She'd draw it later, most definitely before anything happened and they had to leave. Or, Odin forbid, the Cacciatori found them and burned down the beautiful home. But her focus right now was on the wine cellar. She had spotted a particular brand that tickled her fancy earlier that week. No, it wasn't a nice 1970 Henri Jayer Richebourg Grand Cru, Cote de Nuits, France (She doubted these Wolves could afford that), but a more recent, twelve year old bottle of Kvöldsól. It was made using krækiberries; she used to eat them as a child and the wine they made was simply amazing when mixed with some nice, organic, O positive blood.

Her fingertips trailed along the bottles until she found the right one, plucking it from the shelf and speed off to the “guest kitchen” which made her wonder why the hell they needed a guest kitchen? Did they not allow guests to dine with them? Should guests feel flattered or offended that there was an entire wing of the home just for them? Sure, the good stuff was located in the Pack's end of the house on the west, but still. She was a bit bothered when she would cross to the west side of the home and receive a few dirty looks. Either way, she was content with the cozy guest kitchen, pouring a glass of the wine and glancing up to see a young Native American man appear with a glass milk bottle filled with red liquid.

“Gott kvöld, elskan. Engin hvutti passar dag?”, he teased as he handed her the glass of blood and watched her mix it with the wine. “Gefðu hvolpinum um tuttugu mínútur eða svo. Hann verður hér.” She took a long sip before leaning back against the counter. “Fara á undan og höfuð út til Rómar til að kíkja á viðskiptavini okkar. Hittumst þar síðar.”

Their exchange was brief, the male disappearing in a flash of blue light and leaving behind a scent that made her skin tingle with warmth, reminding her of a bakery. Jack was the only other vampire she had let meet Cheveyo, but she had never told him what Chev was. As far as the majority of the world was concerned, Faeries were myths. And she was going to keep it that way. Thinking of Jack, she wondered where the young thing was right now. She wanted to go for a run with him and show him some flowers that Cheveyo had shown her centuries ago.

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Translations (In order of dialogue)

“Daddy!”
“Janelle, what have I told you about beating people up at school?”
“Keep it to a minimum and don't forget to make them keep their mouths shut.”
“Exactly. So – Next time, I better come home to a victory story minus the call from your teachers.”
“I need a new book. La Psicosintesi. It's Doctor Assagioli's Doctoral Dissertation.”
“You called?”
“I did. I need you to keep an eye on a few of the vamps. Don't worry about patrol; I'll have Grace and Paolo on it in your stead.”
"No problem, Chief."
“And I need you to watch Ryder around those female fangs...And don't hesitate to tell me when he steps out of line.”
"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on things."
“I guess I should watch out. I know your boyfriend is crazy jealous.”
"I’d be scared too if Little Mike put me on his blacklist."
"But don’t worry, I’ll defend you.”
“Oh? Scaret protecting me. I feel sooo safe.”
“Alright then, I’ll just sit back and watch as my ‘jealous boyfriend’ teaches you not to judge by size.”
“Vamps should be getting up soon. Joy.”
“Good evening, love. No doggy sitter today?”
“Give the puppy about twenty minutes or so. He'll be here.”
“Go ahead and head out to Rome to check on our clients. I'll meet you there later.”

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Beethoven was too depressing. Leanna didn’t mind playing slower music, in fact, she usually found it relaxing, but Beethoven was too intense and heavy to play on just the piano without the symphony accompany to balance it out. She appreciated Chopin better, though she’d probably enjoy playing his work more if she could play the violin. She enjoyed playing pieces by modern composers better, which would make her mother’s eyes roll to hear, and today she felt like playing some of Sean Beeson’s work. She’d been in the back music room playing for a couple of hours, as it was one of the few rooms in this home she really felt comfortable in. Leanna didn’t normally live at the pack home, and she’d always felt a little trepidation about entering her alpha’s ancestral home. She had enough self-confidence to not feel inferior to her pack mates, but Leanna had always carried a persistent sense of not really belonging ever since she’d joined the pack as a teenager, and stepping foot in a home filled with such history had always had a way of making Leanna feel dirty and small, like she was sullying the pure werewolf ground she walked on by merely being present.

In the music room that feeling wasn’t so bad. Here she could make music, and there was a beauty in that which helped her feel cleaner, more worthy. She also wasn’t willing to allow herself to leave Michael and the kids while they were in a home filled to the brim with vampires. Michael was the alpha, and as strong as werewolves come, but having that many vamps in the house still put Leanna on edge, and brought out her more ferociously protective instincts. She understood the reasoning for their presence here, and she wasn’t about to argue with Michael on the issue, but Leanna had never liked vampires, and a bitterness had grown in her as a child toward the race of bloodsuckers who’d killed her father. Vampire were wolf killers, or at least they had to potential to be, and Leanna wasn’t about to let her guard down around them, especially with Janelle and Michael Jr. in the house.

She was interrupted mid song by the sound of Michael howling for Scarlet. It was getting later, so Leanna decided it was time she made an appearance. There really was no point hiding out back here for the rest of the day, especially since their fanged guests would be awake soon. Carefully sliding the cover back over the keys, Leanna stood up from the stool and began making her way toward the kitchen. On the way, she crossed paths with Janelle and Michael Jr., and her eyes softened a bit. Little Mike did not look particularly happy, and Leanna imagined it had something to do with his less than subtle crush on Scarlet. It seemed the entire Molinelli clan was enamored with their pack sentinel Leanna thought fondly. Scarlet was the kind of person who just naturally attracted people she supposed. Sometimes Leanna envied that about her, but Scarlet wasn’t the kind of person Leanna could ever dislike. She reminded Leanna too much of her mother for that.

“Rough day?” Leanna asked kindly, extending one of her rare soft smiles.





Contrary to popular belief, vampires didn’t necessarily like cramped dark spaces. Darcy in fact, hated them, which was putting it mildly. Coffins were stupid, and anyone who thought she'd willingly take a nap in one of those velvet covered pine boxes was deluded. For a week now, she’d been forced into this tiny space with seven other vampires, and internally, Darcy was a mess of tension and anxiety. She didn’t do well with confined spaces, and the last thing she wanted to deal with right now was a bunch of inconvenient flash backs. The second the sun started going down Darcy was out of the bed, moving around a bit erratically just to prove she could. There weren’t any chains, she was fine. The walls here were made of wood, not stone, and the only blood she could smell was coming from the guest kitchen. Astrid was up Darcy thought with a wry grin. Darcy didn’t really socialize much with the other vampire, but the woman had style. Focusing on the present also helped to stave off the encroaching remnants of the past, so she made a beeline for the guest kitchen where the other coven members who were up and about seemed to be convening.

It seemed Jack and Zak had already joined Astrid, and the smell of booze and blood made Darcy head straight to the vodka, which she mixed with a bit of B+ before downing it quickly and pouring another. Darcy usually wasn’t this quiet, but the prolonged confinement really was starting to get to her. After finishing off her second drink, Darcy turned toward Zak, who she was arguably the closest with her. “Are you going stir crazy too or is it just me? We keep this crap up and I think I’m gonna start breaking stuff.” Darcy said sourly, sounding a bit too serious to be her normal self.

Stefano gazed out at the falling sun from the edge of the forest, a timid sigh escaping him. Normally, at this time of night he would head out into the forest to converse and enjoy the wildlife, but there was no more of that now that the vampires were there. It had been only a week ago, but to him it had felt like an eternity had passed since the vampires had arrived. Stefano did not complain, or even thought of the idea to complain though; it had come down from Michael that this would be a necessary step, and anything that came out of the Alpha's mouth was unquestionable, regardless of any circumstances. However, that didn't stop Stevie's uneasiness around the serene creatures. Being somewhat an outsider of the pack, he had a different view of vampires than a pack-born would; he had no real hesitations to the undead because of their rivalries or because it was unhonorable. Instead, Stefano was just terrified of them and their kind, the fact that they could suck blood and move extraordinarily fast didn't help either.

So instead of being able to be alone and go tuck in the family of bluebirds he had befriended a few weeks ago, he was stuck at the fringes of the forest. While he completely understood the need for groupings - the Cacciatori had some unnerving ability to somehow take down supernatural creatures, which horrified him - Stefano would be lying if he said that he was a fan of his partner, Darcy. She was, to put bluntly, a crazed maniac. She was everything that Stefano could never be in his life: eccentric, bubbly, invasive, loud. In a way, Darcy was a person that Stefano should have around to hopefully break out of his bubble. On the other hand, she was a danger to his privacy and probably one that would embarrass him to no end, especially since she already had a few times.

Another sigh escaped his massive yet timid body before he turned back to the house. It was getting dark, and while he appreciated the darkness as a time of peace and quiet, it was also a dangerous time to wander outside with the threat of Cacciatori attacks higher than ever. So Stefano set his mind back onto the task at hand; carrying the tree he had previously cut down himself. Now, I know what your thinking; a shy, nature loving lumberjack? Where did this paradox come from? In reality, Stefano was on duty to find trees at the end of their life, ones that had either fallen down due to weather or were rotting. It was really the only thing that Stevie could see himself being useful at; his pure, raw strength allowed him to carry trees many times larger than himself with little to no stress, and lumber was always a commodity that could be used.

See, Stefano didn't go to school anymore; after basically failing most of his highschool career, he decided to give up on the idea of graduating, regardless of the views of his other pack members. Instead, most of his days were spent being taught the ways of the werewolf by Michael, trying to become something he was certain he could never truly achieve. When he wasn't under the tutelage, Stevie would make himself useful by being the labourer of the pack, becoming the tool used to lift the awkwardly heavy objects. One of these days, Stevie would go back to high school and get his gr. 12, but until then he would make himself as useful to the pack as he could.

So he hoisted the log back onto his shoulder and continued the short trek to his normal drop stop, which was behind the house near the training area. Stefano himself couldn't shape a log into something beautiful, but he made it available for others that could; anything to be useful would hopefully boost any self-confidence that he could create. After all, Stevie did think of himself as garbage. Finally done for the night, Stefano nearly entered the house before he stopped, turning his massive body around to see a lightening bug flutter around before landing on his shoe. Slowly, he knelt down to admire the tiny insect, envious of its ability to glow; if he could do that, would he be able to think of himself better? Perhaps, but the chances were slim after all. He shooed the bug off of his body and continued inside, a bead of sweat barely escaping his hair and proceeding to make a trail down the left side of his face.

The back entrance was fairly close to the kitchen, which was his destination after all: to be honest, Stefano hadn't eaten much that day. Most of his day had been spent training outside, trying his best to learn to coordinate his attacks and use the brute strength he had been given for something more useful than just throwing wild punches. In real specifics, Stefano's only coordination was stopping large objects and lifting things: most of his mock fights went disastrously, as he would play defensively only against all pack members, regardless of Michael's demands to take the practice spars seriously. So he gingerly opened the fridge, grabbing his gallon jug of water - the stereotypical 'large guy, large appetite' seriously applied to Stevie when it came to his thirst. Grabbing two apples in his left hand, Stefano drained a litre of water and tore through the first apple before leaving the kitchen, finding himself in the dining room and ill-prepared for the number of people in there. He stopped drinking his water instantly, swallowing the last gulp of water out of both necessity and nervousness. No matter how long he would be around these people, Stevie had a feeling that he would feel uneasy in the presence of their power.

Hoping not to interrupt anything, Stefano stayed silent and in the background - like that did any good, for they were bound to notice him. When the did, Stefano gave them a timid and honest greeting. "Guten - Buonasera a tutti." Stefano accidentally stumbled into his native German, quickly correcting himself before it got worse as his face reddened some. Good job, idiot.


Translation!
Guten - German 'Good'
Buonasera a tutti - Italian, 'Good evening to all.'

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Translations
Either of you seen Ryder?
Right here! Did you miss me?
Where are Janelle and Jr.?
Oh, and Michael, are we going to go hunting sometime?

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Translation
Stupid wolves.

“Sounds lonely.” Leanna replied softly as Janelle and Jr. wandered away, wishing not for the first time that the twins had other pups their age to socialize with. Human children, while perhaps not inferior in all the senses Jr. claimed, were most definitely not ideal playmates for were-pups who could literally turn their human peers into mincemeat if they truly tried. Lonely and unchallenging Leanna thought regretfully before making her way to the kitchen and saying her good mornings before grabbing a glass of water. She didn’t like taking food from the pack home, and it was rare for her to do so unless she’d brought a load of groceries and cooked a meal for everyone first.

Leanna’s ears perked up when Michael mentioned Ryder. She hadn’t seen him since that morning, but knowing him like she did, Leanna had a pretty good guess. She never had to answer however, as Ryder showed up moments after Michael asked after him, smelling like shower gel and dampness. On him, it wasn’t unpleasant. At the entrance of Dante however, Leanna stiffened considerably, instinctively inching closer to the omegas as her eyes following every movement of the unpleasant vampire who sent Ryder a mean look before stalking away. Leanna’s hearing was very good, and the muttered insult added to the flash of protective anger that passed through her, making her bristle before she shoved it down. Imagining everyone else, especially Luca and Stephano, had been put of edge by the brief encounter as well, Leanna projected out a sense of calm and ease as a small comfort to her pack mates.

Ryder’s suggestion of a hunt seemed to cut the tension, at least from her perspective, and Leanna agreed. If only to go out running as a wolf again. It had been a few days since she’d had the chance to indulge that pastime, and her inner wolf was crying out for the freedom of the forest. “The opportunity to stretch our legs would be nice.” Leanna chimed in quietly, so as not to seem demanding.


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“Cheating…” Darcy groaned as Jack and Astrid took off without the puppies, part of her wanting to join them for the excuse to get out of the stupid house. She wasn’t close enough to Jack or Astrid to go crashing their plant party though, and Astrid was definitely not the person to piss off, so Darcy resisted the urge. Instead, she decided to go exploring around the house, and zipped back to her bunk to retrieve her candy stash. Feeling in the mood for something she could chew viciously, Darcy pulled out her pack of strawberry twizzlers and began her trek about the enormous house. It really was a nice pad they had set up here. 'How the furry half lives...' she thought, mildly amused by her own joke as she began poking around the hallways for something interesting. She hadn’t been walking for too long before she ran across two pint sized puppies whom she recognized vaguely as the alpha puppy’s kids. Had Darcy been prone to wiser behavior, she might have simply backed off and gone down another hallway to avoid the two altogether. Darcy however, was Darcy, and she was nothing if not nonchalantly reckless, and continued her snooping.

“Munchkins.” Darcy offered in greeting with a lazy two finger salute with a twizzler hanging from between her teeth, looking particularly non-threatening. Vaguely she held out the pack of twizzlers in offering, not caring particularly whether they took one or not. “You guy aren’t one of those freak kids who aren’t allowed to have sugar right? Cause that’d just be depressing.” Darcy drawled lazily in Italian.