Cass Lavoie's Story

After leaving her families bodies behind, the young werewolf wondered into a small pile of rubble, smelling the decay, her nose scrunched up at the putrid smell, her tail tucked low, and head down as she clung to the shadows, hoping not to be found by anything or anyone bad.

On tired legs, Cass was making her way through the ruins of The Phantom Quarter. Her boots, which were already half fallen apart, snagged and caught on rocks, threatening to twist her ankles. She was aware of how much easier the journey back to the warehouse would be if she would just transform. But at the thought, her jaw titled up some in haughty disdain as she stumbled on. Unfortunately, this approach also meant that she wasn’t able to be as quiet as she should’ve been in such a place. Especially with a bag hauled over her shoulder which was full of loot.

The rubble strip which stretched between her and the warehouse was a low cityscape of nastiness. A flood had swept and sunk through not long ago, so she trained herself not to look too closely at the juts she was stepping over. But after skulking around here long enough, she knew better than to be thankful for the shadows which obscured most things from plain sight… for they’d often hide the not so harmless things, also.

With a slight groan, Cass repositioned the heavy haul on her back and made to quicken her pace.

Before she set her foot down, however, she came to a stop mid-stride.

Her eyes settled on a smallish mound which helped make up the treacherous way. They narrowed. Cass was certain she’d seen something stir. Setting her foot down for balance, she crouched a little, waiting for another sign of movement.

It was probably just something shifting positions in the slight breeze which was carrying around that awful stench of decay, and, was that smoke? Or a rat, looking for pickings that the flood had left. But equally, in The Phantom Quarter, it could be something more sinister.

As Mary stood in the shadows, she saw a woman who seemed to be struggling trudging through in human form, her eyes widened in fear, causing her to move a little more than normal, when her eyes met the woman’s she sensed the woman wasn’t to be feared and stepped out into the clearing, allowing herself to be seen. ”H-hello” she stammered as she stepped a foot closer, still unsure if she was in any danger, she waited for the woman to react. Her tail and head down, in submission.

Cass had to admit, what stepped into the little flat space did surprise her. At first, she thought that is was a regular dog in the dimness due to its small stature. And then it spoke. Her hand, which had been waiting readily at her hip to pull out the knife which nestled, concealed in her belt, dropped, and she straightened up again. She had come across few strains of werewolves that could talk.

The creature looked frightened, so nervous that she wouldn’t be surprised to see it shaking if there was better light to do so.

Other worries apart from how this helpless thing had wound up here were racing through her mind. Primarily, that this was another survivor of the attacks which had been bulking up The Runts. Then again, perhaps not. Cass would expect a newly-turned victim to be even more frightened than this tiny wolf, and much more disorientated. Maybe it could even be a trap, but a sweep of the surrounding area told no tales.

She crouched down, unable to stop herself from helping, bringing their levels to a more even plane. Her expression was one of concern. The size of this wolf had caused a knot to tie in her stomach. Another child; lost, abandoned. She didn’t want to ask her to turn into her human form and have her suspicions proved correct.

“How did you get here?”

Not noticing where her hand had been at first, Mary now saw, and crouched down, still scared, now more than ever. When the woman’s hand dropped, she relaxed and stood to her full height, and looked at the woman as she looked around, not sure if she should be more scared, as she was already about to wiz on the ground in front of the woman out of fright.

”I was abandoned when my pack was killed off, then I somehow ended up here in this scary place” she said, trying to sound as brave as she possibly could, given the circumstances. Mary then approached the woman and sniffed her, making sure she was okay.

She’d been right enough. Abandoned. Cass’s heart fell.
If there had been even the slightest doubt about whether she was going to take the child in, it was obliterated.
There was not enough food, not enough space… not enough patience remaining in The Runts for her to comfortably take in another. But she could not say no.

“Do you have anywhere to go? Anyone you know who I can take you to?” she asked nice and slowly, although she was pretty certain she knew the answer. Scary, the child had described this place as. And why else would someone wander into The Phantom Quarter willingly, if there was really nowhere else to go?

Her feet had sunk some into the ground, still soft from the flood as she repositioned herself in her crouch. By stirring the layer of soil, a nasty scent had been unleashed. They smouldered in it.

“I have somewhere you can come, if you like, of course. It’s not very nice, though, but nicer than staying out here. Everyone’s a bit smelly. Everything around here is a bit smelly. But you get used to it.” Cass smiled warmly.

She could still taste smoke, just another rotten addition to the spoilt air. But it wasn't usually there. That made her want to return to the warehouse quickly, just to make sure it wasn't about to burn down. With the tension over the past few days... she couldn't say she'd be too surprised. Arman would gladly torch the place if he'd managed to take control whilst she was away.

Mary looked up at the woman and noticed her attitude towards her change, which put a little bit of comfort in Mary’s mind. ”No, I have no where to go” she had mumbled, moving closer to the woman. ”I don’t think I’ll get used to it too soon” she said in a more confident, cute, little voice.

”My name is Mary. What’s yours?” she asked, gaining more confident, offering her hand out to the woman who was offering her a place to go. ”I haven’t had a mother figure in a long time” she said, looking down at her feet, which were ankle deep in the mush, as she noticed this, she shifted her weight, and got closer to the woman.

“I’m Cass” she introduced herself and took the little girl’s hand. Her expression grew a awkward at the mention of her being somewhat like a mother figure. This was never what she had intended, but now look, Cass was practically running an orphanage. Or pup sanctuary, as Arman liked to call it in his bitterness. “And everything is going to be fine.”

Mary struggled to walk on her hind legs, as she was normally on all fours, and went with her.

Headlights sent forbidding shadows stretching through the warehouse. Through the badly patched up walls, light spilled in, slicing past rafters and rubbish to make clumsy, constantly shifting patterns across the floor. Even Arman, who had just barged in with an over-enthusiastic “I’m home” – met with a very unenthusiastic response – had hushed and froze.

He watched the pack as the cars came and went, how they sheepishly shrank into shadows, some even ducking out whilst the youngest held their breaths, terrified. Cass had moved to peer through a hole in the ruins, after giving Arman a cold glare. Her eyes had roamed from his head to his toes, noting that he had nothing useful on him; no food, no clothes, no medicine. He was here to start a fight.

When the cars had moved off, silence reigned for another few minutes.

Cass was tired. Tired of this.
The newest attack was a worry for them all. Arman’s latest victim had been found by a member of the Bloodstone pack, a prestigious, organised urban pack from Vargeras. It wouldn’t go unseen to. And as far as Cass was concerned, that was the last straw. This insane, reckless werewolf had been causing them far too much trouble. But this, this was the epitome of his thoughtlessness. Sometimes, he’d bring the bitten straight to her, unless for some reason he was compromised. But now, with the warehouse becoming overcrowded and Cass’s patience teetering, lately he’d simply been leaving them to their fate. She thought she understood his motives at their very basis but Arman was still a mystery to her. He needed to go. Yet, how? It unsettled her when she caught herself idly plotting his murder. However, options were few. He was strong, so much so that Cass could never keep him away for more than a few days, even when some of the older members of the pack would provide backup. And she was not about to risk the safety of the youngsters.

The silence was broke by a heave and a splatter of vomit on concrete as Michel, a pack member in his teens, was violently sick. The boy’s looting earlier in the day had rewarded him with a bottle of fancy liquor which he had taken the liberty of drinking all by himself. Cass had found it hard to muster up some sympathy as she’d spent the last two hours dealing with him as he rambled and threw up.

Arman, still stood near the entrance, acted as though it hadn’t even happened.
“We should go after them” he said, sounding important. “Whoever it was isn’t aware that they’re in our territory now.”

Cass snorted. Territory.

Seri watched the cars go by from his perch up on a stack of rusted shipping crates, above which was the hole in the roof he had entered by. The werecat grimaced, waiting until they had passed before descending nimbly, dropping from one crate to the next before landing finally atop the crate at the bottom. “Go after them?” Seri rolled his eyes, “To what, punish them for trespassing? Tsk.” He seated himself with his legs hanging over the edge of his perch and stretched out lazily. “Sounds like a lot of effort just to make a point. You don’t see the otherrr packs getting all worked up over people passing through their territory.” He purred, shaking his head.

He wrinkled his nose and spared Michel a derisive glance, “You smell like a brewery, Michel. A brewery full of hobos. It’s repulsive.”

Finally, Seri turned his attention to Cass. He unhooked a small bag from his hip and tossed it across the warehouse to her. Inside was a bundle of pill-boxes, bottles of medicine, a roll of bandages and – interestingly enough, some contact lenses. It was exactly what you might have expected to find in an average person’s medicine cabinet – likely because Seri had simply swept his arm across the shelf without paying attention to what he was taking. Thankfully, all of it was labelled. “I ... found this, while I was out.” He remarked with a coy grin.

"Hey, man, Arman. You gotta stop soundin' so fuckin' serious 'n creepy shit. Like a fuckin' old guy from the dark ages. We're in a shit hole but we've got light bulbs, y'know, pal? Just... lighten up or somethin'."

Walking past Arman was the tall, and hardly intimidating Hubert. Chubby and never without a grin, most didn't take the man seriously. He wore plaid shirts and washed out jeans nearly every day if he wasn't working at the restaurant. He liked to laugh. He liked to joke. Acted like nothing was ever meant to be grim and dark. Trying to be the one big joke in a city filled with drags.

Between the fingers of one hand was a sprite and water, in the other, a box of crackers. He boxed Michael over the head with the crackers and chuckled. "Hit the bottle like a champ, yeah? Hahaha! When you're done blowin' yer shit outta your mouth I got somethin' for you to eat. If you don't lose your stomach somewhere there. Yeuch."

He nodded up to Seri and Cass, giving them both a phony salute with the bottles. "'ello, 'ello. Whassat you got? Done stole'd some goods?"

“And when people are passing through other pack’s territory, they’re aware of it, and show respect…” Arman bristled. Speaking of respect, he was getting none. He wondered why he bothered with this lousy group of children, jokers, and downright imbeciles. They clearly needed direction - direction which he could offer.

In other circumstances Cass might have offered Seri some warm words or at least a smile as she snagged the bag from the air and peered inside for a quick inspection. But she was too tense for niceties. This was how it’d always start. Arman would act like that uncle that everyone was fond of when he returned, despite the obvious sense of hostility which would fall upon the warehouse whenever he entered.

Arman growled under his breath as Hubert flounced by. Just what he needed when he was about to make some serious suggestions. He didn’t think the man understood what serious meant. His expression grew darker, just like a creepy old guy from the dark ages.

Michel was too out of it to react quickly to the light bosh around the back of his head but gave a groan a few seconds afterwards and said something which sounded vaguely like “I’m sorry” – well, it was more a slurred whine. He swayed for a little while then sniffled and started to look for something to clean with under Cass’s unimpressed stare.

“Stole?” Cass piped up, regarding Hubert the same way she did the smaller children. “Didn’t you hear what he said? He found it whilst he was out.” The smile she offered him was only a whisper of what it would usually be.

Arman remained stood in his bubble of imagined superiority.

“Are we not going to address the fact that we’ve got some posh ‘uns snooping around? Someone said something? Someone told someone there are people here?” His tone grew more aggressive and he glared around at those inside the warehouse as he demanded, although many had already shrunk into the shadows, sensing trouble ahead.

"Get over yourself," Seri replied to Arman with a yawn, "You know, if it weren't for your one-man crusade, nobody would care where we lived. There's a lot of street rats like us in this part of town, too many for the sort who cruise around in cars to bother sifting through. Until you start kicking their nest, reminding them they live next door to us."

He lay back languidly on the crate, one leg dangling down from it. His yellow eyes lay boredly on Arman, like a housecat might watch an angry terrier while safely perched out of reach on a shelf, and he sneered. "But sure, come up with a conspiracy. That's probably more fun to play along with, anyway."

Marry watched the arguments and bickering from a shadowy corner. Some of the wolves looked scary, others looked nice, but Marry knew to stay safe she had to stay quite. Quivering in her human form, Marry slid down the cold wall to her tush and brought her knees to her chest, hugging them as she watched behind her jet black bangs.

Lindsay walked the streets of her new home, it wasn’t dark out but still in-between buildings were shadows and bottles being kicked about. The buildings didn’t perk much interest in her focusing on a rock on the ground she begun kicking it around as if she was playing soccer, kicking it away with the instep of her foot, she saw it ricochet off a bigger rock and into the shadows, her interest being perked by a warehouse that seemed abandoned, she peeked inside and stepped inside, ”Oh, hello” she said with a calm voice, ignoring the men in the room.

"Found it! Right, right," chimed Hubert with a chuckle. "He found all of that." He gave Cass a wink, then set himself down on the floor, elbows on his knees. He made sure he was a bit away from all the yuck. It smelled something awful. Like the rest of Phantom Quarter.

"Can't we get some new digs, Cass? This place is really startin' to ware on me, y'know? Ain't a good place for nobody. Especially the kids. Not as old as Lord Arman the First of the Dirtage, but old enough to be concerned."

He looked up as Arman spat. With his anger bubbling, just a bit, he got up and walked over to the man. "Listen, buddy. There ain't no reason to get all riled up! Listen to Seri. Even he's on your case! You're the one bitin' people all willy nilly! We can't do that, bud! We don't turn into dust bunnies after we get bit. We turn into monsters! What's that whole lecture about power and responsibility? Stop actin' like you probably didn't get us in this mess!"

He paused at the hollow sound of a rock hitting the warehouse floor. His eyes narrowed. "Th' hell are you? Nah, nah, let me guess. Another one of Arman's victims? Good goin' man!"

Lindsay looked at the man, getting in a defensive stanse. "Who's Arman?" she asked, her eyes narrowing, maybe this had been a mistake. There were too many men inside. "I wish to speak to the alpha" she said, her stanse still defensive, not caring if she was a percieved threat. "Believe me, I wouldn't let someone do this to me." she spat.

Kicking the nest, Seri had said. Arman pressed his lips together into an angry line. He couldn’t argue, that’s what he was doing. But it needed to be kicked. But still, he refused to believe that he was the reason for the disturbance. There was nothing that would lead anyone who found the bodies to the warehouse. He’d made sure of that.

“New digs?” Cass repeated, her incredulity breaking through the tension. “Yeah? Hubert? And who’s paying for our lovely new hom-“

“Conspiracy? Come on the- No way could this be anything to do with me-” Arman broke through her in a rage which was equally dishhed out to both Seri and Hubert. It was soon cut off when a figure wandered into the warehouse. As casual as could be.

Cass was staring too. Please, not now. Those gaps in the walls sure made for quick escape routes, but also left them vulnerable. She regarded the girl cautiously; they’d already had enough unwanted visitors today.

Arman studied the newcomer briefly then shrugged “Not one of mine.” So nonchalant.
“Alpha?” An unpredicted guffaw crashed through his currently heated temperament. “Alpha male is right there, girly.” He jabbed a finger towards Cass. “Be better off speaking to me, though.”

Michel looked up from his mopping, drunk and dazed.
"Howdyou find uz?"

Meanwhile, a low growl ran away through Cass’s tightly clamped teeth. As someone who always kept a hold on their wolfish instinct, this was a bad sign.

Seri cast the new girl a bored look, assessing her and finding her to be ... well, disappointingly ordinary. He had to hand it to her for just waltzing up to a pack of werewolves without seeming the slightest bit afraid - even as a werewolf herself, she should have known better than to stray into the midst of another pack uninvited. Even a ragtag one like theirs.

He turned his attention back to Arman for a moment, sneering at his bravado, before he swiftly turned to Cass. She was growling.

His eyebrows rose. This was sure to be interesting.

Lindsay listened to their argument and pondered backing out, but it was far too late for that. ”Okay, miss Alpha” she said turning towards Cass, ignoring the boys. ”I would like to join your pack, I don’t have one, and I think it would be a good time to actually have one” she said in a more confident tone. ”I am just glad it is ruled by a female, a more appropriate alpha than a male” she said, adding a growl after ‘male’. ”I understand your growling, I know how stupid it is to wander in here.” she said, her eyes never leaving Cass.

Mary still clung to the shadows now behind Cass.

"If you wanna speak to an absolute dick, you speak to him, yeah," Hubert sneered at Arman. He moved forward towards the new wolf, up beside Cass to give her some sense of backup. She seemed to be very concentrated on Cass. Something he wasn't really fond of. The hair on the back of his neck rose on end. Ready to pounce at any second.

"The hell you talkin' about, lady? I don't think you really understand what a big mistake you've made."

"You don't just get to waltz in and start talking bullshit, princess," Seri hissed, "Like you have some sort of right to claim a place here. You quite clearly have no idea what you're talking about."

The werecat rolled his eyes, shifting back into a sitting position. "Cass is pack leader because we respect her. Not because of her gender, or anything else. You have some back-pedalling to do... you're coming across as arrogant. Disrespectful."

He bared his fangs in a feral grin. "That's a bad move."

Lindsay never took her attention off of the alpha, ”Listen here boys, I don’t have to explain to ya’ll why I’m here, I have to explain to her because she is alpha, and ya’ll aren’t.” she snarled, now starring at the boys speaking. She could feel the hate for her and the threat of an attack if she made the wrong move, which she normally did, she turned her back on the door, not wanting to have any of the males behind her.

”I have seen several packs, with numbers far greater than yours. I think ya’ll could use a hunter and fighter like me, unless you want to lose more members than you can afford.” she countered, her eyes softened as she saw the little girl. ”I do understand we are off on the wrong paw, my name is Lindsay, Lindsay Blare, I didn’t choose this life, it was chosen for me.” she said, catching her tears before they could form, as she remembered the attack.

Mary clung to a wolves legs as she was being watched now by Lindsay.

Miss Alpha.

Cass still found it all a bit confusing and flattering as the others flocked to her aid, but having a good blush was the last thing on her mind. She needed to have a proper think on what to do about those nosiers in the cars. The feeling that they’d been somehow compromised was strong, and as she swept the warehouse, she was only yet again reminded that she could not let anything happen to these people. A plan needed to be drawn up. But the problems just seemed to be rolling - or strolling - in one after the other.

Seri was right. Hubert also. This girl really had no clue what she was talking about. Cass had bigger things to worry about than this Lindsay who had taken it upon herself to proclaim herself worthy. She didn’t look nearly pathetic or rough enough for Cass to feel any real kind of sympathy. The tone she was taking – especially with the males – was also threatening to trigger another snarl to follow the one which had only just trailed off. She also simply hated the term ‘pack’. They were people, not animals of the sheer instinctive sort.

Besides, not many of the people in this warehouse had chosen this life, who would choose such a lif-

“You should be grateful” Arman said, seeming to be the only one to be taking on Lindsay with any kind of seriousness. Probably because he was insane. “Now you are so much more than you used to be, your limits have been stretched, you can do so many things that before were-“

“Shut up.” Cass said, directing her venom at Arman. Her voice was loud, clear. A shiver ran up her spine and it arched and twisted visibly, a scary sign that a turn was approaching. “And get out.”