[ WP ] You are hiking in the woods when you hear a deafening shriek from close by . Your guide 's eyes grow big and he whispers , terrified , `` One must have survived ... . ''

DUX 
 
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 `` One must have survived...'' 
 
 Ducita's bark was a level whisper, but the ice in her eyes was colder than the snow that fell serenely over them. 
 
 Three immense grey wolves stood before her. The last great warriors of their pack, perhaps even their kind. 
 
 They were exhausted. The battle had lasted well into the night, and the pack had lost many brothers and sisters. They were heading home to their tribe after what they thought would be the final assault on this district, but if their ears had not deceived them, their night was not over. 
 
 A `` Belua'' had survived, and by the sounds of him a big one. An angry one. 
 
 Dux, the alpha male, assessed his troops sympathetically. Feror, their most vicious soldier, bore the brunt of the damage. His coat was matted with blood, a dull maroon glowing in the snow. A large crooked gash streaked from the back of his right ear ( which now hung by a few nimble threads ) to the side of his neck. 
 
 To a civilian he would look close to death, but Dux was a seasoned veteran. There was more blood behind Feror's eyes than what was spilled tonight. His cuts were not deep, and the loss of his ear was superficial. He was ready to fight again, perhaps even excited to. 
 
 Dux gave Feror a curt nod, which was returned with gusto. He shifted his gaze to his second in command, Agisteri. The wise wolf showed no signs of damage, on first glance it would seem there was no difference between the wolf that entered their battle fresh, to the wolf that stood before them now. But the eyes do not lie. The cost of avoiding damage is exhaustion, and Agisteri was spotless. Once a bold young Feror had claimed that soldiers without battle scars were cowards. Many years fighting alongside Agisteri had changed his opinion. No easy feat. However, the fact still remained, Agisteri was the most tired of the four. When it came to killing a Belua, Dux assessed exhaustion as a severe battle wound. 
 
 Dux looked on towards his final soldier, his son, Pectus. The young wolf was a spitting image of his father, if not for his smaller size and lighter coat. He had fought alongside Dux as new warriors do, though three of the four young wolves had perished where Pectus had survived. Whether or not Dux had taken an active interest in keeping his son alive over his other soldiers, was a mental battle he would have if they survived the physical one looming before them. Dux's young heart was beating eagerly, and thought he was inexperienced, his health and alertness were great assets this late in battle. The only wolf in better shape than Dux's three soldiers was Ducita, their guide. 
 
 Ducita was not of their tribe. She was an Iberian wolf from the bordering Adcolian district. Sagax, Ducita's alpha, had ordered her to guide Dux's soldiers through the Adcolian wilderness in order to eliminate the Belua horde that had ravaged her tribe. She had led them to the Belua, but had kept a reasonable distance from the battle. Dux did n't blame her. 
 
 There was one last wolf for Dux to assess, and that was Dux himself. The gray wolf's hulking figure towered over the other four. From a distance you would swear a young Belua was walking towards you ( and many young wolves had run home thinking so ). 
 
 Up close his appearance was not much softer. Three jagged scars ran from the top of his great head to the tip of his snout, a part of his nose missing, as if his creator had forgotten to colour in his nose completely. His coat was the darkest shade of grey, that at night time he was merely a shadow. If you did not look twice at Dux, you would think him a beast, a true freak of nature. But the eyes of a wolf do not lie. You would find no savageness there. Behind those windows was an endlessly vast ocean. Beautifully tranquil and calm, but an immensely awesome power lay in its waters. Heaven help the fool who provokes a storm. 
 
 Dux took a deep breath, and prepared to speak. But before he could deliver his orders, a murderous, blood curdling roar broke the silence again. It was a true monster... and it was n't far. 
 
 `` Pectus, on me. We will approach it from the front. Feror, you will run as far East as you can without losing our scent. Agisteri you will do the same to the West. When you hear my signal, Feror will run like the hounds of hell are at his heels, and flank our unwanted guest with all his might.'' 
 
 Dux paused for the spirited ( or bloodthirsty ) response from Feror that usually followed his orders, but it did not come. He simply began moving East. A shadow of doubt crossed Dux's mind. Perhaps he had wrongly assessed his wounds. It was too late to re-plan, he would have to maintain faith. 
 
 He continued. 
 
 `` Agisteri, I want you to conserve your energy, approach at a slower pace to assess the situation. If it's wounds are heavy, and you can finish him, you must. 
 
... 
 
 If we have failed completely, you must outrun the beast back to Domusta, prepare who is able for battle. `` 
 
 `` Understood.'' Agisteri gave a curt nod before heading West. 
 
 Dux turned to Ducita. 
 
 `` This is where you leave us. You must go to Domusta and let my people know of what has transpired.'' 
 
 `` I am honoured to have served alongside your warriors.'' Ducita replied, bowing low. 
 
 `` Honour me by reaching Domusta in one piece.'' Dux said shortly. 
 
 Ducita bounded off to the north. 
 
 Dux moved closer to Pectus. Father and son were shoulder to shoulder. They stood in silence, but with calm understanding. Two wolves silhouetted against the beautifully layered snow, enjoying the small flakes that landed and melted on their tired tongues. 
 
 *CRACK* 
 
 A large tree branch had snapped not too far in front of them, and the Belua's stench filled their noses. 
 
 `` On guard son.'' 
 
 _________________________________________________________________ 
 
 FEROR 
 
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 Feror walked steadily East. He had hidden the extent of his wounds successfully from Dux. And his wounds extended from Adcolion to Domasta. Ten times over. A particularly vicious Belua had thrust a claw in-between his ribs, to what felt like his lower lung. 
 
 Dux would have ordered him to go home had he known, but Feror knew the odds. Agisteri was exhausted, and Pectus too young. That left only one able warrior, Dux, to fend off the attack. 
 
 Feror would not let his brothers and sisters die alone, just so he may live. Besides, there was no guarantee the healers in Domasta could fix him anyway. 
 
 But with each step, his breath began to get harsher, his vision blurrier. And a chilling thought began to invade Feror's mind. 
 
 *What if I ca n't make it back to them? * 
 
 The bloodied grey wolf came to a stop. 
 
 He had a decision to make, and the now familiar smell tickling his nostrils told him - he would have to make it fast. 
 
 ______________________________________________________________________________ 
 
 PECTUS 
 
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 A strained, ragged howl pierced through the black night to the East. 
 
 *Feror? * 
 
 Pectus looked to his father in bewilderment. 
 
 The young wolf's muscles were tight. His blood hot with anticipation of battle, but his concentration was broken. Though a bold fighter, inheriting much of his instinct from his father, Pectus was still very inexperienced on the battlefield - improvisation was not his strong suit. He was slightly embarrassed that in this moment, he was relieved to have his father next to him in the unforgiving snow. 
 
 Dux had not yet responded. His gaze fixed intensely in front of him, where the branch had cracked. Even now, Pectus still found his fathers presence intimidating. He, like Agisteri, was free from any battle damage, and he was not foolish enough to believe it was of his own doing. There were many instances where he was careless, not checking his blind spots often in the heat of his attacks, only to turn and see his father dragging an enemy away from him. How many times did Dux render this service to Pectus' brothers and sisters? The distance Dux kept between them after battle gave him an inkling. 
 
 *None. * 
 
 `` Should we go to hi-?'' 
 
 `` It is moving away from us... to the East.'' Dux interrupted. 
 
 Pectus brought his focus back to his senses. It's scent was certainly fainter, and no longer in front of them. The snow had stopped falling. The night now eerie, too still, like a bated breath before a plunge off a waterfall. 
 
 Suddenly, Dux bounded from his post. Galloping full speed to the East. Pectus only hesitated for a quarter second, before following his leader. 
 
 His muscles were tight again, his blood hot, and head steady. The chase was on. 

