Blood splattered across the trunk of the aged oak tree standing in a ring around the clearing. Accompanying the spray, a animalistic scream echoed to the moon that glowed blue in the sky. Another body fell to the ground, a long, red-dyed tongue lolled out of the mouth of the wolf, it's eyes rolling into the back of it's head. Hardly seconds after it's death, light flashed, and the creature disappeared to leave a man who appeared to be in his thirties in it's place. A muzzle painted red sniffed cautiously at the corpse, then placed one filthy paw upon it and threw it's head up to the moon with a howl of victory.

Yelps, whimpers, howls, and cries echoed throughout the war zone; whether those that fell were naked men and women, or those of their spirit halves: the wolves, they all fell in a puddle of their own blood. Whether they were fighting to defend, or fighting to expand their territory, piles began to form of both, no time to discriminate them apart…

As of yet, no one could do a body count, nor could they guess exactly who was winning. A large, gray-black wolf with purple war paint surrounding it's eyes was grinning towards an equally large she-wolf, her fur glinting an almost gold in the moonlight, dulled by sweat and crimson that bathed them all. She snarled, circling the other as he followed her pace. Mockingly, he licked at his muzzle, honey-colored eyes amused upon the furious bitch. With a cry of retribution, she threw herself across the distance separating them, and attacked the male. Fur was ripped from their bodies, life's fluid streaked their bodies, pain flashing through their bodies. Surrounding them, their own packs shed of everything that had made them human in the light of day, becoming truly one with their wild spirits.

Every drop of blood that fell to the shredded, dying earth they trampled continuously, every body that fell to that ground of earth and rock and roots of trees, every single scream of pain and fear that rose, were not -no-, could not, be acknowledged by their companions, life-mates, and pack-mates. It was a battle that had begun needlessly, and was not ending as soon as they would wish. It was a battle to end the battles, the insecurities; it was a battle to end any war that the fire pack had witnessed in decades.

Fighting among the fire adults, the fire youths that had only been sent on their way not even a month ago also fought. No wolf would ignore the obvious cry for help from their own birth pack. Side by side, a fox fought with a dominant black male and an almost silver she-wolf, yapping and growling as he attacked the enemy with possibly more energy than those around him. Feet from them, another male stood protectively over his newly-chosen mate, his crème colored belly bathed bloody as well as his brown back; he spat and snarled at any who came close to the black and brown furred she-wolf. His legs were trembling, but he was too stubborn to admit defeat. At a corner of the field, a large gray-wolf with a scar over a red-colored eye, his other eye blue, stood between a smaller brown wolf with a scar across his muzzle, a deep wound throbbing the ever-present red liquid from his shoulder, and the she-wolf wishing to kill him. She hardly had time to fight death before she was just another carcass among dozens. Standing beside his furious gray pack-mate, a male with a dark gray back and eternally dark eyes stood in front of his own opponent. That opponent, as well, saw nothing of his own death, the other wolf too fast to watch.

Despite the wins of the fire pack, victory did not seem to be in sight; every body that fell seemed to be replaced by others that were even more rogue and savage. Just as many of the sound pack that fell, another of the fire pack fell. In the singular stand off between the fire pack's beta and the sound pack's alpha, the one who seemed to be coming on top was their beta, but she was quickly weakening, the other refusing to stay down, nor fight fair. Then again, the whole of the sound pack did not seem to understand the true meaning of 'fair'. For, every time their alpha fell away, a smaller wolf that appeared a silver-gray would leap between them as an almost distraction and add his own damage.

In all honesty, the fire pack was heavily outnumbered, and outwitted. The attack had been sudden and strategize, and their response had been slow and confused. The number of those that needed saved was more than equal to the number of those that were needed to fight; the fire pack had become domestic, and now they paid for it. Despite of those that were warriors, the amount of neutral wolves within their ranks were now depending on their own instincts to fight for them.

The fight seemed endless, days had already passed in which there were males and bitches that had not seen a wink of sleep, and those that had not known a second of peace. Some lagged in their counter defense. Others had become outraged by the dragged-out fight for dominance, and attacked with equal viciousness that their enemies had entered with.

At the border between the woods and the open field, a large male with swirl-like markings on his cheeks fell carelessly to the ground, panting openly and watching his attacker with angry defiance. Attempting to stand on chubby legs failed as the larger wolf shoved him back onto the ground, his mouth opening wide as he made a dive for the almost-defeated male's stomach. Running full out towards them, another black and brown wolf ran, his beady eyes focused with horror upon his fallen comrade; he knew he would not make it in time, in either form, he knew that the time he had was shorter than the amount he would need to reach them. A fully crème colored she-wolf watched with horror from where she stood near a tree, a body inches from her paws.

There was a rustling sound, and then a burst of grey leaped over the obese form and landed upon his attacker, driving him into the ground where sharp, glistening white canines plunged into the ruff of his neck into his throat and cut his life short. The black and brown wolf finally reached his comrade's side, eyeing the new arrival cautiously, before recognition flashed through his eyes. He bowed his head in thanks to the she-wolf with obsidian eyes, tongue lolling slightly out of his mouth in exertion and smug joy. Obsidian eyes twinkled upon them, and then became serious as the she-wolf turned to the mayhem and leaped fearlessly into the radiating horror and driving gore. Watching, the young genius dropped to the ground, landing over his panting comrade and mate, allowing himself to licked affectionately as he allowed his defense to fall long enough to fully accept that he was not dead. Three enemies attempted to jump upon them, seeing the advantage of ridding themselves of two more fire wolves. Seeing them, the black and brown male tweaked his ears back, and then calmly laid back down.

A crème and brown marked male trotted into the clearing, knowingly stepping between attacker and the neutral males. His large frame dropped both of the enemy, and then their blood colored the nearby oak red. Turning to the two resting males, he snarled, irritation showing on his face, purple war-paint, a darker shade than the alpha was wearing, spread from his eyes to his black lips.

These were only the first two to make an entrance, following behind them came another crème and brown wolf, this one a bitch, who attacked viciously and with great satisfaction. After her came a large number of blood-thirsty pack members, their howls hungry and their eyes wild as they ruthlessly took down those of the enemy. They followed the scent of sickness and perverseness, the scent that had not cloaked their beta when she had first entered their midst. The scent that carried the sweat of hard work and the cool breeze of oak and pine were those they defended and fought with. Their orders had been specific and they carried them out with great attention and enjoyment; they had not seen a war so glorious in years. They were not a pack to lie down and allow themselves to get fat off of the land nor become placid in peace.

They were the wind pack: born to fight and die fighting.

The beta was losing breath, as well as too much blood. Her legs were openly trembling now, her mouth hanging open as drool dyed red reached for the ground. Across from her, the alpha was no longer smug, and was also openly weak; beside them, his beta laid in death, throat ripped open. The alpha barely glanced to the carcass, uncaring of the other's sacrifice for him. This only infuriated the bitch more, uncomprehending of the carelessness in which he handled his ways. She understood, but it disgusted her either way. Trembling and standing near the fallen male-beta, her own beta stood as well. The she-wolf was nearly entirely brown as she watched the ensuing fight for dominance with dark amber eyes, sad and wide upon the weakness she could see showing through her large, female mate.

The alpha snarled, and then made one more leap that would ultimately place himself upon the bitch, and his teeth into her throat. Pass her limit, she could do nothing but collapse under the weight, defiance in her eyes but her body too weak from the days of endless fighting, wounds, and death to stand back up and defend herself. His fangs hardly inches from her throat, he was thrust backwards, mouth snapping shut from the force.

Between the beta and alpha stood a purely silver male, his eyes the color of old golden coins and his fur eerily clean of any blood. His eyes were fixed calmly upon the thrown male, tail high in the air in dominance, ears pointing forward and nose high off of the ground. Obviously, he was the alpha of the newly arrived pack; his demanding gaze told the other alpha so. Slouched behind him, the mate of the fire beta stood by her mate's side, nudging at the gasping bitch with her nose and gazing uncertainly upon the newly arrived alpha.

With new fascination, the sound alpha licked his black lips and hung his mouth open in delight, opaque eyes dancing with enjoyment upon the white wolf. He stood back up loosely, panted, and then charged the other with the energy supplied by his excitement. A second time, he was thrown back, in which he threw his head back and sent a call for assistance, eyes still set upon the white wolf with the childish excitement of a boy who had just won enough tickets to get the toy he had been saving for. His call went unanswered, the slaughter around him nearly entirely that of his own rogue group, the combined forces of the fire pack and wind pack cutting them short. That is when the happiness faded from his wolf features and he began whining, ears flying back against his head as he thrashed his head in every direction; eyes panicking as he searched for another to save him. In almost slow motion, he turned his head back to the slowly advancing wind alpha, mouth gaped open as he began whining, turning over to lie on his back and stare submissively at the white wolf. He knew not to fight a war he had lost; he was a coward who had had a powerful voice; now he was nothing without the powerful numbers he had begun with. Now, his life rested upon any pity the other male would show him.

It was disgusting: how he believed that he would find pity from another pack after his brutal and unseen attack; it was petty that he thought he would find that pity from the wind pack itself. There was no history in the wind pack of such pity being handed out; and the sound alpha was not going to be their first.

His blood didn't spray such as one would think; his blood oozed a near oily color. His eyes were focused with disbelief upon the white male, and then they rolled into the back of his head, his paws still high in the air; he died in the position of a coward, as those around them found to be fitting.

It were those closest, a bedraggled group of males and bitches that were gazing about themselves to search for any more advancing enemy. At the death of the enemy alpha, they stared at the body, and then, one by one, threw their heads to the moon and sang of their victory. As their song spread, even those that could not see the body threw their heads back as well and joined; they had won. Closest to the wood's border, the brown wolf with the scar across his muzzle looked to the ground disbelievingly; reaching to him, the gray wolf with one red eye and one blue eye licked his face in comfort, eyes lazily amused upon the sight of the more happy youths dancing about on their hind legs as they reached to the mother they were singing to. A fox was among those that danced with the most energy, his yapping curiously sounding like laughter. Towards the other end where the allies had first entered, the two mates as well as the crème pack-member laid in close comfort, ears pressed against their head and noses slightly tilted upwards as they howled as well.

'We have won.'

'We have came out victorious.'

'We shall know peace once again.'

'We shall remain free.'

'Our hosts remain safe.'

'We remain safe.'

Among those that were not howling were the wind pack, unfulfilled with the small amount of blood that had been shed they had had to shed, and the fire beta and her mate. The two females were watching the white alpha with both speculation and distrust. Yes, the beta knew what pack it was that had come to their aid; but they had never had time to set about making the alliance she had spoken of upon the full moon. It had been right before she had been ready to send off the green clad warrior male that the random attacks had occurred; hardly two weeks later, she had been calling the youths back to assist the fire pack in protecting it. She saw no reason to trust the alpha before her; she had not asked for their assistance, nor did she have a clue why they would come. Yes, she knew of their saying, but she wouldn't trust them to not turn on them and take their frustration of arriving at the end out upon the exhausted and relieved fire wolves.

Out of the growing tempo of victory came the call of mate to mate: those that were searching for their own loves, whether they were dead, injured, or alive; they wouldn't know until they were found. Out of these calls, the white wolf broke gazes with the beta and tilted his head back, the beautiful song calling out as well.

'love, where are you?'

'My darling, come to me!'

'My life mate, are you alive?'

'My one and only, are you dead?'

'Holy moon, where is my mate!?'

'Lover, companion, dearest friend, find me!'

'Sweet love, where can I find you?'

Countering the calls came the responses; whether they were answered by the voices of their mates, or by the wind that rose and moaned in pity and cried in sorrow, their calls were returned.

'I am with you, always.'

'I am dying, please find me…'

'Holy moon, I am here!'

'I will find you, no matter where you rest!'

'I am coming to you!'

'Follow my song!'

'They are dead, I am sorry…'

Whichever call that answered the white alpha's, the fire beta was shocked to see who ran through the band surrounding them and tackled the alpha to the ground with happy barks and a furiously wagging tail. Howls and cries nearest them went silent in shock, eyes of both beasts and humans fazed by the beta of the wind pack. They all recognized their own, and scents never lied.

Her fur was painted red above the gray and white and her obsidian eyes were laughing as her tongue touched the blood of her mate's black lips and lapped away the crimson liquid. The alpha laid submissively for the thorough cleaning, uncaring of the audience, and ignorant of the impression he was giving for lying down and allowing himself to be overpowered by his beta.

Stepping through the crowd, the wolf form of that was reminiscent of the wind's beta came through and watched with watery joy and surprise as to who his young student was affectionate with. In a slow rise of light that enveloped him and then left him in only skin and two legs, he stood and spread his arms wide, uncaring of his own nudity as most wolves were.

"Lee!"

Instantly, the wind beta whipped her head around and stared at the human with happiness. She was so joyous, she was bouncing on her paws; she ran forward, and then landed on her old teacher after a flash of light came and went.

"Father!" They hugged and rejoiced; close to them, the human forms that had once been the fox and his two wolf companions closed in and watched. The fox boy smiled widely, and then leaped upon the two embracing men.

"Hey-hey-hey! Bushy brows! We were wondering where you were!" With both arms wrapped around the two look-alikes, he buried his nose into Lee's shoulder as the other laughed.

"Yosh, Naruto! Had I known sooner of my birth pack's distress, I would have flown here on the wings of speed!" He smiled sheepishly. "As it is, I had not known until last night! With the number in which I was traveling with, I could not come here as quickly as I would have wished."

Naruto laughed, bear-hugging his friend, despite the older male refusing to let go of the boy he had raised. "Hey, we won the fight because of all the beasts you brought with you, better believe it!" Then he sniffed again at his friend, curiosity on his face before he pulled away with a grimace on his face. "You smell weird; like someone else and musk… hey! It reminds me of Chouji's and Shikamaru's scents!" He released his blushing friend partially to scratch his cheek, thinking very hard about something. "Have you been sleeping in someone else's bed?"

Lee sputtered, face as red as the blood that bathed the ground and his own skin, that bathed everyone. Coming from behind him, the question was answered. "Yes, he was in my bed…" Lee snapped around, despite the group hug he was in.

"G-Gaara!" He pleaded with wide eyes. His father-figure was looking darkly upon the wind alpha.

He released his student and son, and made his way to stand in front of the redhead that had been the white male. He eyed the other, toe to head, head to toe, before his bottom lip trembled and he fisted one hand. "You must prove to me that you are good enough for my most precious child!"

Lee reached for his father-figure, eyes determined to defend his loved one, even against the first one who had ever cared for him, as well as vice versa.

Gaara did not even blink, nor did he break eyes with the tall, heavily muscled man before him. "I came to your defense, did I not? None of my own harmed any of your pack-members. Your beta is alive, if not in need of medical attention." He crossed his arms, chin slightly dipping as he went on defense. "I could have left your petty pack to waste, or I could have came and taken out two packs in one hit." Accompanying his words, Lee only stared knowingly upon him; Gaara moved his own gaze to meet that of his beta's. "You are Gai, and this is his birth pack; I came to your defense because had I not, it would have hurt him." He swiveled his sea-foam eyes to where the fire beta and her mate were now standing, their wolf forms disappearing in an array of synchronized lights as they came to their feet. "I could hardly care for any of you."

Lee broke away from Naruto to embrace his lover, looking stubborn as he turned to his considering, yet fuming, father. "Father, I love him. Do you need any other reason?"

There were dozens of eyes watching with horror, shock, anger, joy, and acceptance. The pair of eyes that Lee cared most about were now entirely considerate; finally, he smiled softly, and stuck a thumb up, one hand landing on his bare hip as he posed. "I accept your love for the wind alpha! As well as I accept your position of beta!"

Naruto pumped a hand into the air, oblivious of the look of reluctant shock upon his pale, raven-haired pack-members face and the horror on that of the pink-haired female. "Yeah!…" "Hey, Bushy Brows?"

Lee, his face pleasantly red from the howls and whistles that had accompanied his statement, turned questioningly to his pack-member. "Yes, Naruto?"

"Can you have pups?"

An awkward silence spread from where the fire beta stood to where the edge of their surrounding wolves could hear. Lee's face became a very dark shade of red once again, even as his mate brought him closer to his side, looking over his beta's shoulder to the blonde.

"If he can, we most certainly will." He stated with the voice of someone who was dominant and unswayable.

"If he can, we will most certainly be watching over it." Now standing proudly once again, if not leaning slightly on her mate, the fire beta was just as equally dominant and unswayable.

"If I can, I would most certainly like a say in it!" Lee stated loudly, though both dominant pack rulers ignored him.

There were minutes of silence, then the beta smirked and Gaara's chin dipped in acknowledgement of the other's power. The beta reached a hand out to the redhead.

"Well, red, how about an alliance since you mated into our pack?" As simple as that, the question was set forth, and ears of beasts perked while humans leaned forward. They had all known of what they're beta had wished to do, she had announced it the next day; they also knew that she had never had the chance to follow through with it. It was the wind pack that were secretly startled, and awaited their alpha's answer.

Gaara eyed the hand, and then stared into the beta's eyes as he slowly reached out and took the offered hand. "Only as long as my mate's lineage continues to travel through my pack's ancestry." The instant he took the fire beta's hand, his face was grabbed and his lips captured by another pair.

"Mmmwah!" Lee smiled happily as he leaned back to look at his mate and alpha. "Thank you, Gaara!" The fire beta released the other's hand as the redhead was pulled into his mate's arms and the obsidian-eyed boy nuzzled their noses together. "This shall be the beginning of the most beautiful alliance!"

Surrounded by their brethren, either dead or alive, two packs bonded beneath the waxing moon. Another song echoed to the sky of the newly born alliance. Lives were lost, but just as many were saved; all by the mating of their own member to the cold appearing wind alpha. It was, if not confusing and sudden, joyous and new.

It was a new beginning, just as Tsunade had first believed on the night of first freedom.


Someone wanted a sequel to this, so I made one. If it confuses anyone, tell me, please. Otherwise, the only thing that made me sad was the mood swing I had between death and distrust to the reunion that they had in the middle of everything.