“What do you mean he was running away, how was he running away? Why wasn’t someone guarding him? Wait, what? Amir is being attacked? Who attacked Amir?”

For a moment I turned in place, searching the pack once more. Maybe I had come too late to help Voltaire fight, but I could surely get to Amir in time if I needed. If he didn’t come to my call I’d go and try to find him first, maybe whoever attacked him was still around. It was a strange feeling, one I don’t know all that well, something like confusion but…..angry confusion I suppose. I was angry at Voltaire for trying to stop him, I was angry at Amir for not calling for help, I was angry at Achilles, I suppose, for not having a wolf like Guardian or Azrael or Maddox guarding our captives. After all, Zeus was damn old, the chance of him actually being able to fight of a trained young warrior was pretty slim- but fighting old wolves like Voltaire was apparently his style. What was the point of having assassins if we never acted? If I had to rally every member of my group then so be it, I would. Between all of us we would find Zeus, perhaps show him what its like to have someone his own size come against him for once, since he only ever seems to attack the weak or the old. There is truly little honour in that. I know, big word for an assassins, honour- but its about time Grandfather Heyel’s words started to mean something again. It is about time we remembered Blood for Blood.

“It’s never too late, Voltaire. Limping and with one eye he can’t walk all that fast. As soon as I know Amir in the least is alright I will leave you with them, I’ll get a healer or…something as well- but im going to find him.”

I was young, I suppose and so entirely oblivious to how much it showed in these moments as I struggled to work out entirely what to do. I wouldn’t leave Voltaire alone, but the longer I took the further away Zeus got. If Amir never came to the call then I’d have to search for him first, I wouldn’t allow two wolves to be injured in the same day and if I couldn’t find Zeus then I’d settle for whoever it was that attacked Amir. Ska’s sudden arrival saw my head turn, my own relief surely palpable as she ran to her Father before looking towards me as if I had some kind of answer for this.

“He didn’t want a healer, he only wanted you and Amir.”

It was the only explanation I could offer her, violet eyes narrowed now at his mention nothing more could be done. What was that supposed to mean? Something had to be done, he had a stick stuck in him. He couldn’t leave it there forever although I……I’m sure iv’e seen that stick before. I pushed the thought away for now, having no true desire to consider the importance of sticks as Ska and Voltaire seemed to argue a moment and Amir finally arrived.

“Meryl is, his den is over there, if you call for him – Amir! What happened to your leg?”

Did no one in this pack know how to dodge without breaking a limb of landing on a stick and impaling themselves? Amir to my knowledge, had always been a great warrior, a warrior who had fought for my Aunt Isola in the war and won. How had he broken a limb? At least, it looked broken. I knew enough of healing to understand that was going to take some weeks, if not months to heal and that it might never heal entirely straight at all. They argued then, like Father and Son more then friend and friend, Ska looking on in much the same manner as myself I suppose. I think, deep down, I knew Voltaire would not be alright, I knew it, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it- not really. It’s fun to play at this game of Life….until someone loses it. It was my first true understanding of it I suppose and I could remember Voltaire for far longer then perhaps anyone else save Amir and Ska were content to do, if only for the lesson he taught me today. Even when he was dying it seemed- he had something to give my family still.

“Ska, why don’t you call for Meryl? I…..I need to go. Amir, who attacked you? If you don’t know the name then tell me what they looked liked, something to go on is all I need.”

I paused, waiting. I……I wouldn’t stay here to watch Voltaire die. I couldn’t I suppose. I was a Scout and I had some Scouting to do, being here now simply felt intrusive though I would tell Achilles what happened, all of it, when he came home….