He knew. He always knew. He could smell him even now; amidst the various other scents of his -pack.- He could always pick out that delicious scent. The same familiar innocence drenched in blood. Oh, how he had missed his pup. Fenrir moved slowly, feet guiding him through the tangle of sleeping bodies, through their docile forms towards the -threat-. The cowering wretch himself was coated in dirt, the sweet embrace of human blood upon his clothes, under his finger nails, and in his hair. It was absent from his mouth, noted the senior wolf, but it paved the way to the promise of his true nature.

"You finally gave up the facade then?" He sneered, foot nudging the greying wizard with a hint of malice.

"I don't belong there." Came the muted reply, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"You don't belong here either unless you're willing to embrace the bloodlust. Can you do that, -pup?- Or should I rip your throat out now and have done?" Fenrir growled with a hint of amusement, circling his prey with a mixture of sadistic pleasure and disdain.

"If that's what it takes. I can't deny it anymore." Tone uneven, his voice faltered, but somehow his face tilted upwards, sunken eyes locking onto Greyback as he swallowed his pride. For the good of the Order, and to retain his sanity, he had to do it. To subject himself to the reign of the beast, the lure of the curse and the state of total, unbridled, instinct.

Content with the reply, Fenrir let loose a bark of calculated laughter, hand reaching forwards to pull the man to his feet, dirtied fingers slapping him hard on the back, as he sneered an uncharacteristic note of amusement. A sinister smile painting across his face, his tongue shot forth abruptly to wet the drying surface of his lips as he tossed his head back in a louder, more mirthful howl of appreciation. "Welcome home, Lupin."

Three days earlier…

"You're really going aren't you?" She hadn't needed to ask; she'd known the minute it had been mentioned at the last Order meeting, that he was going to go. Some line about rallying werewolf allies, and infiltrating the pack of a known psychopath. It was suicide, yet nobody was being man enough to admit it. He was expendable, the -wolf- amidst their own ranks. Tonks felt like the only one that seemed to care, the only one losing the last good thing in her life. But she didn't have the heart to make her last words to him a lecture either.

Leaning against the doorway to the living room, an oversized pink nightshirt clung to her frame as she wrapped an arm around her waist, her other hand hovering near her mouth as she chewed nervously against her fingernails. He was packing, ready to run off into the wilderness and face certain death. It made her feel sick - so lost, and so unwanted. The bigger picture meant that he might be able to recruit some more 'soldiers' to their cause, to tick those few extra boxes that could tip the scales in their favour. To make the world a safer place for them. The smaller picture, however, was the one she chose to dwell on. She was losing a friend, a lover, and the tiniest piece of hope.

"Dora…I -have- to go." Remus looked up from his meagre supplies and shot her an apologetic look as he tied together his last remaining effects. It was pitiful really, to have to leave the one person that made life living, solely for the purpose of ensuring that they continued to do precisely that. It bordered on traitorous in his bind, but his conscience had steeled itself, and now continued to remind him that this was for the best. An unavoidable occurrence that would grant them all salvation.

Her lip was quivering, he could see it from across the room. The faintest glimmer of tears shone brightly in her eyes, and he felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. Hands shaking slightly, he set the parcel down, and moved stealthily across the room to pause in front of her. Calloused digits move forwards to cup her face, tilting it her face upwards until he could look her in the eye. "It'll be alright." He didn't know if it was to convince himself or Tonks, but regardless he hoped it was true. Lips pressing to her forehead, he offered no resistance as her arms snaked up around his shoulders and held him close.

Remus sighed against her hair, her sobs now audible against his chest as he stroked her back in comfort. "Shhh." He breathed softly against her ear. Soothing tones calming her nerves until finally their was silence. He'd never heard such a blissful sound before, although anything to drown out the deafening misery in his ears was a welcome occurrence. Detaching herself from his chest, the bubblegum witch pulled backwards, hands still clutching to his shoulders as she sought out his eyes.

"Promise me you'll come back." Tonks demanded, her voice still heavy with emotion.

"Dora…" Remus couldn't make such a promise, not when the odds were so against him.

"Promise me." She demanded again.

"I promise." And he hoped that it was true.