Hello again! Here is the second chapter. Slightly longer, more details, more plot. Constructive feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to the MFU franchise.
Napoleon stopped, panting, and leaned against the gnarled trunk of a nearby oak tree. He had to take a break-there really wasn't a choice at this point. He may be a top operative and in great shape, but he had no idea how long he'd been running through the challenging forest terrain, and his head was pounding besides. Actually, now that he stopped to think about it, everything hurt, to varying degrees of agony.
Napoleon took a shuddering breath. He needed to calm down and try to figure out what was going on. The howling had gotten more distant and less frequent, so he had a moment. Hopefully. It had also probably helped that he had come across a small stream and followed it for a ways, walking in the water to throw the wolves off his scent. The icy water had been so cold that it was painful, but if the choice was between that and being mauled by a pack of wolves...well. There wasn't really a choice.
He really wished that he could remove his wet socks and boots, but there wasn't time, and putting them back on when they were still damp would be miserable. He'd just have to hope that his body heat would dry them out. Hypothermia was a problem, but Napoleon knew that he needed to escape quickly. Maybe he could find Illya and Gaby before he was in worse condition.
He frowned, thinking of his teammates. If Illya were here he'd tell him to pull himself together. Napoleon could do that on his own, but it was always more amusing to let the Russian think that he was lollygagging. Gaby would just laugh-she saw right him.
He needed to know where they were-if they were in more danger than he was-but to do that he had to figure out what had happened. Napoleon closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree.
He was pretty sure that he was in this mess because of the mission. Something obviously must have gone very wrong. Napoleon chuckled, then coughed. He was getting too jaded if this was just "very wrong" instead of "catastrophic." Maybe he needed a vacation. To a nice secluded spot...he cracked an eye and looked around. Maybe somewhere with people, then.
The mission hadn't even been complicated. The three of them had been sent to Germany for a simple fact-finding mission. Waverly had assured them that they wouldn't even have to rectify the situation. A minor member of the nobility, Baron von Baasch, was suspected of selling weapons to bidders from all over the world. The team's job was to find proof. That was it. Probably the easiest job in months, and somehow they'd managed to screw it up. Napoleon huffed in disgust. His perfect track record was long gone, and it was all Illya's fault. He wasn't sure how, but it was.
His thoughts were interrupted when a distant howl broke the silence. His head snapped up. It had been quiet for so long that he had hoped the pack had lost his trail. It was a vain hope. Napoleon claws his way to his feet and sprints in what he hopes is the opposite direction of the wolves. If he followed the stream, it might lead him to a lake, and there was the possibility that a town-
The murky darkness and autumn leaves had shrouded a steep drop. Napoleon didn't even have time to shout as he fell down the slope, hitting rocks and trees. At the bottom, he lay still.