Moonlight Cure

[Legendarian Mistress]

Moonlight Cure

A/N: This original work is a collaborative effort not only from me, but winterfell and Sgt Shock as well. We will all be writing chapters for Moonlight Cure which, if I can remember correctly, was the title that SS narrowed the fic down to from the original names of Moonlight Dusk and Silver Cure.

Disclaimer: This story, "Moonlight Cure", is rated PG 13 (with the possibility that it could go up to M). Moonlight Cure is © Kyuu-chan, winterfell and Sgt Shock.

Prologue​

"Many people believe that werewolves are the natter of supernatural tales. However, they really do exist. Be wary when in one's presence. Their bite is a ticking time-bomb which ultimately leads to the turning of the person bitten."

Words from Florien the second


Not too long after three pure-blood human families migrated to Elquarai, a trio of Elquarainian natives lived peacefully in their own tribes. Two of them used their unparalleled powers to create gifts for their species. In three of the lands, there were a king and queen, warriors, healers, scribes and, of course in two of the kingdoms, a twosome of outsiders.

The first was a half-Elven princess, who'd been refused her rights due to her being part human. The second was a chestnut coloured centaur, who was set to lose what she believed was all of her kind. Their friend was the third Elquarainian native, a male who had been born as a werewolf. They, along with the three pure-blood human teenagers, desired to free him of the "disease" that plagued his body.

Elquarai was divided into four sub-kingdoms. Una Rellia was the realm of the humans; Quartz Forest, which was situated beside the land of the Elves, was the residing place of the centaurs; Polarine was inhabited by the High Elves; lastly, the werewolves lived in Lycanthro. There was also the Forbidden Isle off to the region's north-west.

Una Rellia, on the eastern side of Elquarai, was a coastal land and was said to have the best of anything a human world could have. A pristine beach, clear waters, amazing views, skyscrapers, mansions with pools... anything and everything a human could possibly want was here.

Quartz Forest, Polarine and Lycanthro were on the southern, western and northern sides respectively. The centaurs had named their kingdom as such because of the gigantic quartz mine that was located deep within their territory, whilst Polarine was titled aptly due to the palace created from ice that the High Elves lived in.

Lycanthro, a community purely consisting of werewolves who were unable to change into human forms, was repeatedly at war with Una Rellia's soldiers. The maddened wolves yearned to turn their pitiful human opponents, but the elven and centaur warriors often arrived just in time and subdued the exasperated beasts.

But everything changed one day when a strain of the Hendra Virus swept through the centaur herd, killing almost all of them. Five survived, but four of them immediately left and travelled to the Forbidden Isle to live out the rest of their lives. When the fifth, the young chestnut coloured female, returned to her homeland she was devastated that every member of her family had been targeted.

So began two quests, missions to find out if they could eliminate the "disease" bothering their werewolf friend and to seek the four fugitive centaurs...

 

[pikakip]

Wow, nice job Kyuu. It's really good. I didn't notice any grammar mistakes, but I'm not so keen at pointing them out. It seems like it's going to be a really interesting fic, and I will read every chapter, from you, SS, and winterfell!

 

[Underoos]

For the opening, it's perfectly fine. No major grammar errors that I can see. Although I'd need to read more to tell you how it goes. Looks like a pretty good set up though.

 

[Scarlet Weather]

Um... interesting. I don't think what I'm looking at here is actually a prologue. Prologues exist to establish framing devices or present events that occured that set the story in motion. This isn't so much a prologue as it is the plot summary on the back of a paperback novel. There's a lot of telling and not showing here, which isn't the best form for a prologue. We hear about the various factions who are warring with each other- the high-elves, the centaurs, the humans, and the furries werewolves, but we don't really see anything. We're given no characters to form an attachment to, and no real sense of dread. The plot of the story is basically spelled out for us without any real attempt to elaborate on anything.

I'll also be the first to say that the descriptions of Elquari are rather... boring? I don't honestly care about the geography or the peoples living in the different regions because I've had no chance to experience their culture or to see the individuals of these species or to figure out why I should care about any of this. I feel like I'm sitting through a geography class lecture, and I never liked geography.

Una Rellia, on the eastern side of Elquarai, was a coastal land and was said to have the best of anything a human world could have. A pristine beach, clear waters, amazing views, skyscrapers, mansions with pools... anything and everything a human could possibly want was here.

Here's a prime example of what I'm talking about. We're told that Una Rellia is a beautiful place and it's the human equivalent of paradise, but we aren't given a chance to see it. Also, I'm slightly surprised from the presence of the stock fantasy races that we're going with some sort of modern-fantasy spin on things for this fanfic. I've always been a sucker for modern-day technology colliding and coexisting with fantastic elements, so the fact that I'm not getting a chance to see what you've done with those two actually dissapoints me and makes me feel like I'm missing out on a chance to read something potentially interesting.

I'm also kind of dissapointed with the allignments here. The elves and centaurs, stereotypically 'good' fantasy creatures, are allied with the humans, while werewolves who are stereotypically 'bad' want to kill all humans and eat them for some reason.

Really, the prologue hear doesn't get me excited. It just makes me say "get on with it already". Most of this information could have been provided in the story itself without looking too out of place, and I don't need a back-of-the-cover summary for a fanfic. I've clicked your thread, I'm already reading. Really, the best thing you could do right now is just start the show.

...And on that note, I feel a strange need to go off-topic and say that it's nice to know that I'm not the world's only GDW fan.

 

[Fuyu]

Scarlet Weather, thank you for your criticism. All three of us will take it to heart. Now, to start the show.

************

Moonlight Cure

Chapter I: Shameful Hearts

The walls are thick ice, foggy and clear, yet for all their power they might as well have been glass. Music, high and low notes in perfect harmony, slid through the walls like water, echoing mournfully through the halls. It was not a rare occurrence but to sensitive ears such as those of an elf, it began to grate on the nerves after a while. So did loud footsteps, as a matter of fact.

A tall young woman strolled through the elegant hallway, wincing slightly. She had long black hair in a ponytail, which swished almost angrily as she walked. The woman muttered spitefully under her breath, somehow still managing to keep her outward indifference.

"How dare she play so loudly... that insufferable little half-breed! There are people with sensitive ears in this castle!" She sniffed audibly, continuing her furious stride.

"Is something the matter?" The quiet voice made her jump and whirl around. A nineteen year old man with plain brown hair and eyes stood there, watching her with a raised eyebrow. His ordinary white and beige clothing made him stand out from the others, as did his medium-height build.As such, he could look her in the eye, but could not do the same to any male adult elf. The woman glared.

"Oh, it's you Tarin. What do you want?" Tarin quirked an unconvincing smile.

"Just worrying over the health of my dearest cousin. Too much stress can kill you, after all. And none of us want that." There was a swift roll of the eyes.

"Don't you call me relative as if we are equal, you worthless slime. If our honored mother wasn't Queen, you would be out in the streets with the rest of your kind where you belong." Her indifference was cracking. Anger was more of her default setting anyway.

Tarin smiled again. "Your contempt of others amazes even me Mearn. Now I will take my leave, so as to keep you in good health. Good day, dearest Mearn." He walked past in the direction she had come from. Mearn watched for a moment, before letting out a huff and continuing on.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Tarin sighed with relief. The woman was such a pain to him, just because he was human. Just because her aunt had married his father after the first lord died and had a child, it gave her no right to do that. Her arrogance and selfish behavior constantly drove him up a wall. Idly, he wondered where his sweet sister got her patience from. Must be from honored mother, he decided. Coming upon a plain red door, he knocked quietly. Tarin shivered slightly. No matter how many years he spent in Polarine's icy cold air as opposed to the warmth of Una Reilla, he would never adjust to it.

The gentle music faded slowly as the door opened. A head peeked out from the gap. Bright blue eyes glowed with delight. "Brother!" The door shot open and the girl waved at him. She had straight dark purple hair that reached halfway down her back and a heart-shaped face. Her skin was the customary pale skin and tapir-like ears of an elf but she was smaller than the rest of the females her age and her bones were thinner. She wore a pale blue dress with a darker pair of plain pants."Good morning!"

"Good morning sweet sister," he greeted, showing a true smile. Of all of the family, only his half-sister could make him happy. Kind, patient, loyal, and hardworking, the fourteen year old always found ways to amuse him. Even her honored mother could not hold a candle to it. "Why are you so hyper this morning Nerys?"

Nerys looked at him curiously. "Why...? Your tournament is today brother! Miss Lucia said I could watch."

Tarin felt a flutter of pleasure. Usually her mother would refuse to allow it, believing the girl had more work to do than watch a row of mock battles. "That's great. You'll get to watch me win!"

"I heard the other trainees are really good this year," she mumbled, looking nervous. "Do you think you can win?"

"They always look really good," he said dismissively. "I'm going to show those guys that humans are nothing to underestimate. I'll win for both of us!" He gently ruffled her hair. "So don't be nervous! I can do that on my own." Nerys giggled and moved away, moving to replace her instrument in her case.

"Oh I saw Miss Mearn walking away from this room a few minutes ago. Did she yell at you again?" Snapping the case shut, Nerys shook her head.

"She... Lady Mearn said that the Council has forbidden my inheritance of the throne or any rights befitting a princess of the ancient lines." Power passed maternally through the higher families. Lower in the ranks, it changed through the father.

"The Council did?" Tarin exclaimed. Even though the High Elves reign, it is the Council which makes all the final decisions. They are a group of elves set in their ways and determined to hold their thrones as long as they can. "How would she know?"

Nerys glanced at him. "Because in three years time, she will take the throne."

"Her? She isn't a direct cousin!"

The woman shook her head miserably. "You are the closest thing to the bloodline, but you are male. It wouldn't work."

"There isn't anyone else?" he asked desperately.

"She didn't say." Tarin clenched his fists.

"Bet the Council just wants a puppet," the man muttered bitterly. Brooding for a few moment, he was startled to see Nerys staring at him worriedly.

"Tarin..."

He hurriedly smiled. "Ah don't worry about it! Let's go down so you can watch me beat everybody!" Nerys giggled again and grabbed something from next to her bed. Tarin gave her a confused look. "You're bringing your quarterstaff?"

She twirled the wooden staff expertly. "Yep! I need some practice."

He shrugged. "If you say so then. Let's go!"

***********​

He had to hurry. They were coming. His front left leg burned with pain in unison with his flank. Human weapons really hurt. Sniffing the air, a chill stole over his nose. I'm really deep in Polarine. The elves were neutral in the skirmishes of werewolves and humans as of three years ago. Maybe he could rest and heal for a while. Another scent invaded his nostrils. Centaur? Impossible, they were wiped out! Not knowing where the other stood, there was no choice.

The trees rushed past the werewolf as he ran, bolting past the startled animals. He could see sunlight and the imprint of a castle in his eyes. The werewolf leapt...

*************​

Nerys let out a soft cry of amazement, clutching her quarterstaff with excitement. Tarin was fighting really hard, his face glistening with sweat. He slashed into his opponent with a wooden blade, knocking him to the floor. The boy stood, gritting his teeth. All around her people were cheering loudly. Brother's really good... will I get that skilled with my staff? she wondered. I hope so." A loud crash startled her.

Tarin's opponent was flat on his back, blade clattering to the ground a few feet away.

The referee called the victor and Tarin moved to help the other up. The elf accepted it gratefully.

"You're really good," he said warmly. "You're a lot younger than I am, but that was really hard. I can't believe I lost."

"You weren't exactly a pushover either," responded Tarin with a grin. "Hope we can fight again sometime."

"Oh please!" a voice drawled. Mearn strode forward, all the elegant lady-in-waiting. Tarin tensed and Nerys rose slowly. Mearn gazed at them all coolly before fixing her glare on Tarin's opponent.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, losing like that! To a human no less! Every single one of you is a shame to your blood. All of you obviously need more training and discipline! I will make certain that it is done."

"Why you..." Tarin looked outraged. Nerys hurried down from the place she had been sitting at and coolly stepped between them.

"That's enough Lady Mearn," she stated calmly. "They all fought well and there's no shame in losing to a better opponent. You can't fault them."

"Be silent girl!" the woman snapped. "They are weak to lose so easily."

"Then perhaps you'd like to take a turn?" the princess offered, swinging her bo and gently placing one of the metal tips against the lady's neck.

Lady Mearn scrambled away, muttering obscenities as she left. Tarin grinned and clapped a hand on Nerys' shoulder.

"Nice move sister," he congratulated as the pair of them exited together. Behind them, others were chattering with awe and surprise, whether over the latest spectacle or the tournament it was hard to tell.

The teen shook her head. "She was ruining it," the princess replied. "Everyone was smiling and happy and she was trying to ruin it with power she didn't have. It wasn't right. And after this morning..."

"Well it's too bad you didn't get to attack her. That would have been great."

"I don't know about that," she mumbled sadly. "I probably would have made things worse."

Tarin shrugged. "Oh well. Why don't you show me what you've got?" Nerys gazed at him doubtfully.

"Are you sure? You're still injured..." He waved her off.

"Aw it'll be fun! Trust me!"

"All right..."

Spinning her bo, the princess began to bounce lightly on both feet, placing her left hand behind her right, which was poised at the center.Tarin took the wooden blade in both hands and charged. She leapt nimbly out of the way and whirled around, switching hands and sweeping the tip into his ribcage. Tarin grimaced and sliced downward onto her arm. Nerys winced and swung upward, jabbing again. Tarin jumped, swinging down with one hand toward her head. Allowing it to hit, she twirled the bo straight into his chest, knocking the man upwards. He flew a few feet, landing hard on his back.

Worried, Nerys ran to check on her brother, but a shadow landed in front of her. It was a russet colored wolf, panting exhaustedly. There was blood oozing from two places on its left side. The dulled golden eyes were locked onto her blue ones and a male voice full of confusion pounced in her head.

"Who are you?"

Surprised, she answered, "My name is Nerys. Nerys Gaia. Who are you?"

"I... am..." Suddenly the wolf let out a frightened bark and bolted away, blood leaving a small trail. The bushes rustled and a chestnut-colored female centaur burst from them, carrying a bag in one hand. She looked around and saw Nerys glancing between her brother and the direction the wolf had gone.

"Excuse me!" the centaur trotted over, limping slightly. She brushed her shoulder-length brown hair from her face. "Did you see an injured animal come this way? I'm trying to heal it but he keeps running off!"

Nerys nodded. "Yes I can take you to him. Follow me!" She bolted away, still clutching her staff in one hand.

**************
Chapter One end.

 

[Sgt Shock]

Chapter 2: Crescent Winter Winds

The crunching of leaves underneath his paws consumed the leaves. Many of those same leaves matched the color of his fur, a reddish color that normally represented the death of the plant. His speed was completely unmatched by any of the animals that wanted to scurry away from his claws. However, he wasn't after them, he was trying to get away himself. Adrenaline fueled his very body like blood pumping from the heart to the rest of the body.

Being persecuted for so long, his speed almost surpassed that of a cheetah. His body was moving almost involuntarily as the thoughts began to string together like they were connected by knots at the end of each. Was this going to be it? His normal keen vision was blurring, being slowly consumed by just silhouettes of mixing colors. The wound on his front leg had opened wider to allow the blood pour from it like the sweat underneath his fur covered forehead.

He pushed his way through the pain and the dimming vision to make it to the end of the woodland area. His golden eyes darted to the side of the socket to see if his pursuers had given up. His heart almost felt it was going to burst upon the ground as all four of his legs began to wobble. He definitely met his limits. "Maybe just a little rest…" The werewolf thought to himself as he allowed his legs to
finally lose their power.

*************

​

A soothing feeling on his front legs was the feeling that he had woken up to. It could only be compared to the middle ground of ice and water yet felt like nothing of this world. The werewolves forced his entirely body to sudden shoot upward out of pure reaction. He prepared him at first to run—but at this range the enemy might attack further. Force would be the better option or more like defense in his state. "Wait…" the werewolf took a glance at his front leg. It was cured aside from the scar that was left behind. His body suddenly slowed down. Did these people help him?

Remembering that he cannot speak verbally, he bowed down graciously with all of his legs kneeling towards his saviors. Though he had to admit, it felt like the exact definition of awkward, he couldn't deny the people that saved him his utmost respect. He honestly didn't expect to wake up from that slumber and to see the light of the sun flash against his rust colored fur was refreshing.

"I…" he thought to himself. He wished that someone could hear his voice as deep and vigorous as it was.

"Go on…"

Almost shell-shocked the wolf took a step back. Could she…no she couldn't, could she? Hearing his voice was almost impossible especially inside his very thoughts. A look of completely bewilderment danced across his face like searchlights. If this person could really read his thoughts, maybe…maybe he could actually give them a proper thinks instead of just looking like a whimpering dog. He howled happily at this thought.

"You can hear me?" the wolf said ecstatically.

"Remember, you ran past me and you tried to tell me your name."

The rust furred wolf tried to remember clearly when that happened. The fact that he was in hysteria at that time made it increasing harder to remember that exact scene, he remembered her voice however so that was probably true. The vision of the girl with the violet colored hair popped in his mind immediately. He turned to her. She pressed her fingertip against the point of her pale colored chin before continuing the conversion.

"You're Nerys, correct?" he could remember clearly now. He didn't get the chance to speak his name at the time.

"That I am," Nerys replied as she moved the threads of purple hair from her bright blue eyes.

"You're…" the wolf eyed the pointed ears of the person before him. "You're an elf. Well…that explains quite a deal," he gave a warm laughter which converted to a slight howl.

"What's your name?" she folded her arms.

"Well…" To be honest, not many people could pronounce his true name correctly. "You could call me, Viktor. It's my human name…"

Even speaking the word human made his ears fold downward from sadness. It was almost a constant reminder that he might not ever be human again. He tried to push these thoughts aside yet they were stuck within the corner of his mind. He grunted before he continued to the second of his two saviors, a centaur lady.

"Who healed me? Was it you or the mistress over there?" Viktor asked Nerys.

"It was her," Nerys pointed.

"I see. Could you tell me that I said thanks?"

"Sure," she spoke happily before turning to the healer in question.

Viktor studied the centaur female closely, almost outlining her entire body with his eyes. The long brown hair fell limply to the side of her neck. She staggered forwards allowing her hooves to clatter against the ground as she took her steps forwards. It was teenager upper body that swayed his normal reaction to attack anything with hooves. She was definitely rather stunning for a centaur.

Nerys relayed Viktor's mental thanks to the centaur mistress. After being slightly paralyzed that the wolf had thanked her, she bowed courteously to show that she receive his thanks. She rubbed the back of the werewolf before speaking.

"I'm Florien," she spoke calmly.

"He's Viktor," Nerys spoke matter-of-factly. Viktor confirmed this with a nod. "And I don't believe that we have met properly. I am Nerys."

"Pleased to meet the both of you, Florien," she bowed

"I don't want to seem like a complete bother, but I have a favor for the two of you? Do you care to hear me out…?" Viktor asked.

"Sure," Nerys nodded.

"I was wondering if I could travel with either of you…."

It was becoming increasingly obvious that he wasn't going to make it too far on his own any more. Around any corner could be a trap or pure death. On the other side of the tree, or the mountain, across the lake, or even directly behind him could be his last move. It was security in numbers and for the first time in a long time, he did feel save. Besides, he had debt to pay. He couldn't leave them with that buzzing around his mind like a swarm of locust picking his conscious apart like a corpse.

"I don't see a problem with you coming with me at all," Nerys flashed a smile. "I cannot speak for your healer however. What me to consult her about it?"

"Please do," Viktor beckoned.

The two women began to consult amongst themselves as the wolves peered back and forth as the conversation flowed. After what felt like an hour to Viktor, the two women came to a conclusion. They nodded their head simultaneously as the turned to him. Of course, Nerys was the one to relay their answer towards him.

"It is fine with the both of us. I guess this makes use a group of three."

"Then consider me an ally. The Crescent Winter Wind is in your command."

The glances darted from one person to the next in a triangular pattern as the absorbed each other thoughts. Though none of them knew what the path ahead was going to take them, they were willing to take it together.

~~~~~~~~

Author's note: Sorry for my tardiness. I have so many things that I have to work on as well as this. My apologies 'fell and Kyuu.
​

​

 

[Legendarian Mistress]

Chapter 3: Degrees of Separation

From the lengthening shadow of the Forbidden Isle's temple ruins, the lithe form of a female centaur emerged. The ruins stood at the edge of the pine forest that ringed the land side of the plateau on which the temple had been built. The sharp, clean smell of pine mixed with the salty scent of ocean and seemed to wash everything in brilliance, making the green of the forest lush and layered, the blue and white of the ocean crystalline and elegant as it crashed against the rocks far below. Forbidden Isle's temple vestiges loomed before the four fugitive centaurs, looking imposing in its rocky perch on the edge of the magnificent coastal cliff.

As she came closer and more fully into the pool of light that illuminated the area surrounding the fountain, Brianna couldn't help but be stunned by her own beauty. Her equine part was a sleek palomino, shading from cream to a blonde so light that she almost appeared to be silver. She had yet to see another centaur with such spectacular colouring. Even her hooves were a unique, snow-white shade. Her hair matched her coat, and it streamed down her back in a thick, white wave. Brianna's skin was alabaster, and she wore the hunting centaur's traditional half-open leather vest through which could be glimpsed her brassiere-protected well-rounded breasts. Her face was classic perfection. She raised her eyes, which were an arresting shade of lavender, to meet those of McCallen — the leader of what was left of the herd.

"You know that Florien will be suffering without the rest of us, don't you?" Brianna asked the male centaur.

"It had to be done, lassie," McCallen answered in a western brogue.

Brianna Diaan, for the family had been and still was collectively named the Diaan herd, raised a foreleg in protest but McCallen stopped her. "The conversation is finished. She will survive, know that and trust me. Brighid has predicted it, she told me herself."

The Diaan herd laws left Brianna no choice. McCallen had spoken, and she had to respect his word. She took a few steps back and executed a deep, graceful bow.

*****

"Why were the humans after you?" Florien questioned Viktor as the trio continued walking.

"He had tried to turn one of the Una Rellia soldiers, which justifies why they retaliated with spears." Nerys explained, after a pause from receiving the response via the werewolf's telepathy. Another pause, and this time the half-Elven princess faced Florien. "Viktor wants to know why you limp."

A burst of air was exhaled quickly and sharply as the teenaged centaur studied the werewolf. Finally, when she answered, her response was short and to the point. "I was on patrol with some warriors when our squad was attacked by others of Viktor's kind."

Sadness tinged Nerys' eyes. "You were the only survivor?"

A nod was the only reply the princess got. Viktor felt bad, and he wanted to reassure his saviour that he was not at all like that. He growled, catching Nerys' attention. After a few moments, Nerys acknowledged the werewolf's request and placed her right hand on Florien's shoulder. Startled by the touch, Florien gazed into the half-Elven princess's eyes. "Viktor said that that is the mentality of most of the werewolves in Lycanthro. However, he wanted to reassure you that he is not at all like that and that he is sorry for what his race did to your patrol."

"I know," the centaur healer whispered. "But nothing can bring back my father and two brothers who were in that patrol," she added, her voice hardening. A hoof stomped in frustration, and her chestnut coloured tail flicked her flank. "I need to be alone for a while. Don't follow me."

And with that, Florien sprinted off. Viktor tried to stop her with a whine, but Nerys put a soothing hand on his head. "She'll be fine," Nerys spoke up in the werewolf's head. "She needs time to get over her grief."

"I hope you're right; and that it's not a hatred of all werewolves..." Viktor responded, still feeling sad.

*****

"Don't make me punch you!" A female voice, masculine-sounding in tone, piped up.

"You wouldn't..." A boy trailed off, clearly concerned.

"She would, you know. Why do you think she's the class leader in boxing?" A second female countered, this one having a more feminine tone.

"Remind me as to why we're doing this again..." It seemed that the boy was forgetful.

"You wanna see a real elf, don't you?" The first female spoke again.

"Yeah, but..."

"No buts, we're doing this whether you like it or not."

"But Clara, we'd be violating their laws!" the boy protested.

"Micheal, don't push it," Clara warned.

"Micheal has a point, Clara." The second girl, Sophia, interjected.

"Not you too, Sophia, surely...?" Clara seemed to have been defeated by her friends.

"We didn't ask, for starters," Micheal began, feeling more confident that Sophia was backing him.

"We're even leaving our own territory without our parents' knowledge!" Sophia hissed.

"Pfft!" was all Clara said to counter her friends' concern.

Unbeknownst to the three teenagers, a small pack of bloodthirsty werewolves were tracking them, able to hear exactly where they were due to the crunching of leaves and twigs.

*****

Florien stood alone in a field, deep in her own thoughts. Nerys and Viktor slowly approached her, letting her hear their advance. Everything was quiet, as the breeze blew through softly past the trees. "Florien...?" Nerys ventured. The chestnut coloured healer turned and was about to reply, when the allies heard the scream. They looked at each other in horror, before reacting like lightning and running towards the source of the sound.

Clara, Micheal and Sophia stood petrified, as the four werewolves stalked towards them with a look of bloodlust in their maddened eyes. "HELP!" Sophia screamed again. Her plea was answered as Florien, Nerys and Viktor arrived on the scene, surveying the incident quickly and moving into action.

"Stand down!" Florien yelled at them, in the middle of striking a werewolf with her front hooves.

"We're here to help," Nerys reassured the three humans, grabbing another lycan with her hands and breaking its jaw.

Viktor fought off the last two and prepared to do something he would forever regret. He clamped his teeth down into the throat of one of them and jerked his head away, ripping out the neck's major vein. It would be a quick, but painful death for this werewolf.

Clara, Micheal and Sophia watched on, still shell-shocked by the violence their saviours exhibited. With the death of one of their own, the three remaining werewolves fled, howling retorts at Viktor that he would pay one day.

"Right, saving aside, I'm Florien," the healer introduced herself.

"I'm Nerys and that's Viktor," Nerys added.

"I'm Sophia and they are Micheal and Clara."

"Why are you in this area?" Florien demanded. "It's Lycanthro, did you not know that? The place is infested with werewolves."

"I can explain," Sophia said and began their tale of near death.