Tides of Change
Despite tensions rising from the panther attacks, and all the political heat that comes with that, the pack still needs to head out into human population for goods, services, you name it. Anthro's make up 10% of the population in America, a minority, but their presence is large, due to their majestic nature, their strength, their thousands of years of history, most of which humans don't know about. Add in the vast variety of animal anthro species, then you have less than a 1% chance of meeting a particular animal in public. Dragons being very rare, wolves a middle ground, majestic cats more rare, and prey animals like deer, the most common. Most rare among anthros are domesticated breeds, such as an anthropomorphic golden retriever. And the only known source for these beings has been from human to anthro transformations. But they are increasing in number as the transformed begin to mate and produce offspring.
The panthers actions have caused fear in some, for sure, and the pack gets looks now they didn't get before. But it has been still safe to go in public. Panthers are not common enough that the smaller portion of them doing these attacks have effected everyone. Much like a public shooting, most people believe it will never happen to THEM. It's just a tragic event they hear about on the news, in someone else's town, someone else's state.
But as the pack went out for groceries and some other light shopping, fate had decided that it was this small college town, this New England state, that should be rocked by the next attack.
The small grocery store was surprisingly busy for a weekday afternoon. Cass walked between Roan and Kiran, still getting used to how his new wolf body moved through human spaces. His sleek black fur drew plenty of stares, the faint bluish-purple shimmer catching the fluorescent lights every time he turned his head. People gave them a wide berth, but no one was openly hostile. Yet.
Kiran pushed the cart with dramatic flair, tossing in far too many snack bags, having an insane and envious metabolism, while Roan grabbed practical items with quiet efficiency, actual netrients and proteins. And you better believe they raided the much too expensive steak section.
Cass carried a basket, claws clicking softly against the plastic handle. His new nose picked up everything, the sharp tang of cleaning products, the warm bread from the bakery section, and the nervous sweat of a few nearby humans who weren’t sure how to act around wolves.
A small boy, maybe six years old, suddenly broke away from his parents and ran straight toward them, eyes wide with pure wonder.
“Wolves! Real wolves!” he squealed, skidding to a stop in front of Roan.
Roan’s golden eyes softened. Without hesitation, he crouched down and scooped the boy up, letting the kid wrap his tiny arms around his thick furry neck in a delighted hug. The boy giggled, burying his face in the soft black fur.
“You’re so fluffy!” the kid exclaimed.
Cass couldn’t help smiling, his tail giving a small wag. It was one of those rare, pure moments that reminded him why they fought to keep coexistence alive.
The boy’s parents hurried over, faces tight with unease. The mother reached out quickly. “Ethan, come back here right now.”
The boy pouted but didn’t let go of Roan’s neck. “But Mom, these aren’t panthers! Panthers are mean. These ones are nice!”
The father’s eyes shifted nervously between Roan and Cass, clearly uncomfortable with how close his son was to two large wolves. “Ethan, now.”
Roan gently set the boy down, giving him a warm rumble. “Listen to your parents, little one. Stay safe.”
The parents gave them a forced smile before they departed.
As the family hurried away, the pack noticed a lone figure on the sidewalk outside the store windows. A well-dressed panther with striking green eyes stood there, looking lost and agitated, moving first in one direction, then putting a paw on his own head, and changing direction. When he spotted them, his ears flicked back and he moved toward the entrance, constantly glancing over his shoulder as if checking for watchers.
The pack tensed immediately. Kiran’s tail bristled. Cass’s claws flexed instinctively. Roan stepped slightly in front, positioning himself between the approaching panther and his pack.
The panther stopped a fair distance away, raising his paws to show they were empty. His voice was low and urgent.
“I need your help. There’s about to be an attack at the movie theater down the street. My own people… they’re planning something terrible. Please. I don’t want more blood on our hands.”
Roan’s golden eyes narrowed. “Why should we trust you?”
“I'm sorry but you guys are the only ones around that can help, I don't have time to convince you, they could already be in there...” the panther replied, voice tight. “I’m done watching my kind become monsters.”
After a tense exchange of glances, the pack moved.
They followed the panther to the theater, slipping inside quietly. The afternoon crowd of families and teens gave them nervous looks as three wolves and one panther moved through the lobby. Cass’s new senses were on high alert, he could smell fear-sweat from the humans, the faint chemical tang of gun oil, and the sharp edge of panic from the panther leading them.
They found the attackers in a side hallway near the main screens, three panthers in dark clothes, AKs slung over their shoulders, preparing to burst into a crowded theater.
The fight was fast and brutal.
The four moved on speedy but quiet feet, rushing to the panther's backs, who were facing away, focused on the doorway to the theatre. Roan and their green eyed panther 'ally' slammed into the group, and Roan slashed at a panther throat, opening it with shocking efficiency that Cass didn't know he was capable of. The green eyed pather wrestled with one of the attackers, fighting over the AK.
Cass' heart was hammering but he rushed in, tackling another panther to the ground, and realizing he is outmatched in pure strength a little too late. The panther fought and was regaining footing and forcing Cass back. Cass knee'd the cat in the groin, making the beast roar, and Kiran was there, moving fast, landing rapid dagger strikes on Cass' panther.
One of the AK's shook the hallway, the bullets hitting the ceiling as their panther fought muscle to muscle with the enemy. Everyone's ears rang from the gunshots in the small space. Panic could be heard through the theatre doors. Please, don't rush in here, humans, Roan thought. Roan pulled his pistol and unloaded standard rounds at point blank into the panther that fired the AK. But the panther was resilient, and shoved himself away from the pack, aiming his gun.
For a moment, the barrel of the AK swung toward Cass’s chest. His finger was on the trigger of his own silver-loaded pistol. Two cursed rounds on the top of the magazine full of regular rounds behind it. One silver bullet chambered.
He could have ended it with one clean chest shot.
Instead, Cass shifted at the last second and put the bullet through the panther’s leg, and Roan tackled the shocked panther. A silver bullet, even in a non fatal location, bloomed with pain far beyond what the panther was prepared to tank.
The attacker howled in pain and dropped the rifle.
One panther lay dead, throat slashed. Roan pinned the gunshot panther, and the third, suffering Kiran's slashes and stab wounds, was healing but was pinned under Kiran and the green eyed panther. Roan noted the panther had thrown on a mask covering his face, when did he do that?
Police sirens wailed outside almost immediately. Some humans ran out into the hallway, and stopping at the sight, not that the pack left any room in this little hallway for anyone to get by. Suddenly the green eyed panther stood up, leaving Kiran to hold the enemy alone, and ran through the halls. He was fast and gone in no time.
The police came in weapons drawn, and commotion erupted as everyone tried to explain, but luckily the human stand bys had their back, yelling to the police that the panthers are the shooters.
Finally the police stopped training their guns on the pack and helped restrain the two panthers.
Kiran panted, ears flat. “We need to take these panthers to the council. They’ll have information...”
Roan shook his head grimly, watching the cops swarm in. “Try telling the police that. They’re not going to hand over armed terrorists to a bunch of wolves.”
The pack lost their captives. The injured panthers were taken into human custody amid flashing cameras and shouting officers.
Outside, a small crowd had gathered. When the pack emerged, several people started cheering.
“They stopped the attack!” someone shouted.
Phones were out. Cameras pointed at the three wolves, Cass’s striking black fur with its bluish-purple sheen catching the light, Roan’s powerful frame, Kiran’s sleek red coat.
For the first time, the pack wasn’t just feared.
They were being celebrated. At least by this group of humans.
But as the cheers rang out and the news vans pulled up, Cass couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in his gut.
Something bigger was coming.
And they had only scratched the surface.
The pack had to interview with police, and their weapons were taken as evidence, but Roan had wisely taken the cursed silver bullets from the magazines before the police had rushed in.
-----
Later that night the pack returned home to chaos.
The moment they stepped through the front door of the pack house, they were met with a living room full of anthros, at least ten of them, talking in low, urgent voices to eachother. Zariel was already there, his massive white-and-gray frame standing near the fireplace like a scarred sentinel. His icy blue eyes found to them immediately.
Before anyone could ask what was going on, a hyena with spotted fur and bright, nervous energy rushed straight at Roan.
“Roan! Oh my god, it’s really you!” the hyena blurted, ears twitching. “I’m Khepri. I’ve heard so many stories about you: the black wolf who can lift a truck, the one who survived the Trials young. It’s such an honor!”
Roan gave the smaller male a warm, brotherly hug. Khepri, clearly starstruck, took the opportunity to openly grab a handful of Roan’s firm ass, squeezing with open admiration. Cass was alarmed but then remembered... anthros are very hands on, more than handshakes...
“Damn… that’s even better than the rumors,” Khepri bragged loudly, tail wagging. “I’m never washing this paw again.”
Roan chuckled, gently prying the hyena’s hand away but not looking offended. “Easy there. Nice to meet you too, Khepri.”
Cass watched the exchange with a mix of amusement and curiosity. The room was packed with wolves, a couple of foxes, a ram, and even a sleek leopard. All of them carried the quiet tension of people preparing for something dangerous.
Kiran leaned over and whispered, “Why are there so many people here? This isn’t a normal gathering.”
One of the older wolves stepped forward, addressing Roan directly. “We heard about the theater attack you stopped. Word is spreading fast. The council has called for the next expedition to the Temple of Aetherion, deep in the Italian Alps now. Many of us are going. We want to know… what should we expect from the Trials?”
"It's been found? The Alps now?" Roan asked. The location of the Temple changes over time, appearing and dissappearing as if it never were. It can take awhile before it's new location is found, and then the council arranges a voluntary expedition to run it's trials.
"It has been. But you've been in it before. Can you tell us about it?"
The room quieted. All eyes turned to Roan.
He exhaled slowly, golden eyes serious. “The Trials will test your resolve, your bravery, and your wits. They will dig things out of your soul you never knew were there. Some of you won’t come back the same. Some of you… may not come back at all. It would actually do you guys harm if I shared my own experience. The temple knows what's in your minds, and would use your expectations against you.”
A heavy silence fell.
Zariel’s deep voice cut through it. “I’m going.”
Roan’s head snapped toward him. “Zariel, no.”
The big scarred wolf met his gaze steadily, icy blue eyes calm but resolute. “You know as well as I do that what we saw on that mountain wasn’t normal. That dragon-like beast… we aren’t strong enough yet. The pack needs more power if we’re going to survive what’s coming.”
Roan stepped closer, voice low and firm. “Then the pack should go together. Not you alone. We don’t throw ourselves into the Trials foolishly.”
Zariel shook his head, a rare flash of emotion crossing his scarred muzzle. “You know full well that if the whole pack went, not all of us would make it out alive. I will. I’ve already made my decision. I leave with the group in two days. There’s no room for more members, and no room for argument.”
The two powerful wolves stared each other down. The rest of the room watched in tense silence.
Cass felt his new tail twitch uneasily. The weight of what was coming settled heavily on his shoulders.
"Then go, Zariel. But you come back alive, even if you have to leave the temple before it's over. I know you want your innate ability, you've always wanted it, this is just an excuse. You'll know when you're in too deep, and then you get out if you can, promise?"
"I promise, Alpha, I will not lose my life."
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