A/N: So the bad news is that I failed to finish this before my Halloween deadline. The good (?) news is that we only have one more chapter after this! The news-news is that this chapter contains some gory descriptions, so please be careful if you read fic while eating or something similar.

Eleven

Starting that night, Basil, Clara, and Adrian bounced ideas off of one another as to their plan on how to survive the next couple of days and nights before the full moon brought the werewolf back to his full strength. There were no further sign of the pards outside the bothy for the remainder of the night, and the trio was able to steal a handful of hours of sleep between them. All they needed was to make it to the full moon and allow Basil half an hour under a clear sky; if it wasn't going to come this next cycle, then Clara and Adrian were going to head for the nearby village during the daytime, leaving Basil to his devices until he was either dead or transformed. As much as they wanted to deny it, there was no other way, let alone a safer option.

They were going to leave together, or one of them was likely to die there, another supposed victim of the Cairngorms' weather, corpse gone over by carrion-seekers.

The following day passed laboriously slow, punctuated by quick naps and group outings to use nature's toilet. Night came and only proved to be as aggravatingly tense as the daytime had been. The conceit of pards had prowled outside the bothy until the new day faded the overcast sky from coal-black to a well-washed grey, leaving the occupants' nerves beyond frayed and their wits nearly at their ends.

"This is it," Basil muttered, peeking out one of the shutters. It was around noon, with a light drizzle falling outside from the thin clouds above. "If I can catch a break in the weather tonight, then I can take care of these pests."

"How are we going to get out though?" Adrian wondered. "They're on our door by twilight."

"Pack," Basil ordered in reply. Adrian glanced over at Clara, who was making tea for their thermoses, having decided that their attempts were unlikely to be up to her standard.

"He means, we're going to leave before the sun sets, letting them think that we haven't left yet," she translated. "If we do at least that, then we might have a chance of confusing them long enough to get Basil the proper moonbathing session he needs."

"…and where will we hide?"

"In the forest, until we can get some bearings," Basil replied. "Fast as they are, pards still slow down when avoiding trees and other bits of terrain, just like any other animal, and I plan on using that to our advantage. They might be fast in open land, but they're downright clumsy in a forest."

"There's a big problem though," Adrian frowned. "They can track you, yeah? Take one step outside and you will be pretty much laying down a trail of paint for them to follow."

"Not exactly…" Basil glanced over at Adrian and smiled, making the younger man swallow uncomfortably—that was not a smile to be fond of, no matter the situation.

A couple hours later and the bothy was ready to be closed up for the time being. The fire was put out, the inside tidied, the compost buried, and everything to be taken away fit snugly inside the packs Clara carried with her outside. She put them down and began to fiddle with the keys, making it so that she was the one closing up the bothy.

She was the one closing, because Basil was being carried on Adrian's back, feet high enough in the air to not brush against any grasses or rocks. One of his ankles was in a false splint, making it look less suspicious in case they ran into the park rangers again. Clara led the two of them along as she took lead of the party and they began to head towards what they hoped was safety.

Every so often they would stop to rest, which meant that every so often Basil put on a show over his ankle as he was placed down on a rock by Adrian. They had left a disconnected-enough path for Basil to feel comfortable walking on his own once they were within the forest, a welcome thing for the younger man's already weary back, and they quickly went to work on finding a small clearing to occupy. It was nearly twilight when they found the perfect place, one where Basil could climb a tree and potentially regain his strength in safety. They ate their dinner—granola bars meant to replace a meal yet still not anywhere near filling—and began their wait on the low, thick branches of a tree just beyond the edge of the glen, with their packs tied up high in another one to keep them out of the way.

"Basil? Do you turn into a wolf or just the dog and horror film effect?" Adrian asked idly. The silence they were otherwise finding themselves in was driving him mad, though Basil shrugged from his spot on a slightly higher branch.

"All three, though that's not important," he said. "Just keep listening for the pards."

"Will we even hear them?"

"Boys, hush," Clara said, holding up her hand to silence them. There was a soft rustling noise from underneath them, which she carefully looked for the perpetrator. A wild boar made its way out of a clump of shrubs and began to snuffle its way around the glen, allowing the humans sitting in the tree to breathe again.

"I still wouldn't relax," Basil warned, tone hushed. "There might be others, and they might be bigger; stay in the tree."

"Don't you have some moonlight to catch?"

"It's fairly difficult to do while there are clouds in the way…!"

Another quick rustling of leaves and suddenly the boar squealed in pain. It was driven quiet by its neck being broken with a swift chomp, its killer then leaning its head back and letting out a long, low roar.

A pard had caught dinner.

Soon, five other pards were in the glen, feasting on the boar. With their dark coats covered in speckles of varying colors, the creatures looked strange enough to be unsettling, yet familiar enough to justify thinking they were another large cat at first glance. The smell of blood and entrails filled the air, making the two humans struggle to control their reflex to vomit in disgust. Thinking quickly, Basil plucked a large pinecone from the branch above him and tossed it as far as he could, landing out of sight and making several thuds that jarred the pards from their meal. With one of their own dragging the rest of their dinner along, the conceit trotted off in the direction of the pinecone's landing, ready to investigate yet not ready to potentially leave their dinner for another to steal.

Long and dread-filled moments passed; the sounds of the forest at night seemed amplified by fear, making every single second drag on laboriously. The humans barely dared to breathe, both nearly falling off their tree branch in fright when Basil hopped to the ground. He ushered them down and they followed.

"It's not safe here anymore," he whispered, tone hushed as he attempted to quickly shed his clothes. "Adrian, make good on your promise and help Clara get out of here and back to the bothy."

"What about you?" Clara asked. "What are you going to do?"

"The clouds are thinning; it won't take long for the moon to come out and regenerate my abilities to their full capacity. It's me the pards want, not either of you, and the more convoluted a path I can take them on out here, the better off all three of us will be."

"You sure they'll go after you?" Adrian asked uncertainly. Basil nodded in response.

"They're not capable of the thought of hurting you two to anger me—they want the big prize and as long as you're not with me, then you'll be safe."

"Our stuff's still in the tree though," Clara mentioned.

"You have the keys," Basil reasoned. "Stay the bothy where you're out of the cold and wind and come back after it's light out."

"I'm not leaving you!"

"Clara, we should do as he says…"

"I am not abandoning him!"

"It's not abandonment if he tells you to go!"

"Don't make this the last time I see you alive," Clara ordered Basil. He replied by deeply kissing her, not giving a promise that he would live, but declaring all that needed to be said, yet would likely remain so until the end of their days.

I love you.

"Shit! Look out!"

In a flash, Basil had transformed into his half-wolf form and pushed Adrian so that he sandwiched Clara between himself and a tree. She could poke her head out from behind his arm to see that the conceit was back, all of the pards on the other side of the glen and ready to fight. Their muzzles were covered in boar's blood as they growled at their long-traveled prey; he growled back, barking territorially. They were in his space and he had done nothing but exist, as if they cared about such things as reasoning and logic. It did not matter that the humans were under his protection, or that one was his mate, or that none of them even had the same prey upon which they regularly ate and therefore did not directly compete.

All they knew was that there was a werewolf in front of them and that werewolves were not friends of pard-kind.

Two pards leapt forward, going faster than Clara and Adrian had ever seen a cat move before, initiating the fight. Basil threw himself into the fray, meeting them partway through the glen. His trousers and t-shirt were still on, getting almost instantly torn by claws and shred by teeth. Barking and growling, hissing and spitting, snarling and snapping—it was the werewolf against two pards at first, then a third jumped in, the fourth, and before long all six pards tearing at Basil with no restrain in their might and fury.

From her vantage point just behind Adrian's arm, Clara's eyes went wide as she watched in horror, not knowing what to do to help. This wasn't a faerie story—not a cute one, anyhow—and the man that would have filled her role of knight in shining armor was the one shrugging off being mauled by six of the largest cats she'd ever seen. There wasn't even a chance in all of hell that she could become Basil's savior, as she had nothing that could combat claws and deter teeth. The man that had taken her heart and given her his own was laying down his life for hers.

As the attack wore on, one of the pards stopped attempting to rip Basil's arm out and turned its attention to Clara and Adrian. Its fierce eyes bore into the humans, emitting a long, low, purr of delight as it began to slink towards them, not caring that it was bleeding from its face and haunches.

"D-D-Don't do it!" Adrian warned. He was shaking as he stepped backwards, pressing Clara further into the tree trunk. "I'm warning you…! No closer…!"

Suddenly, the pards all stopped and raised their heads in unison, each one looking to the north. They then ran off, their tails in a low, submissive curl, reaching close to their top speeds in moments. Clara pushed Adrian away from her and ran from the tree into the main of the glen. She fell to her knees at Basil's side, putting his head and shoulders in her lap so that he was no longer completely laying on the cold ground. He had bite and claw marks all over, oozing fluids worse than the night he transformed on Clara's kitchen floor. She could see that a section of his left quadriceps muscle had been detached from the rest, blood freely flowing from the wound and staining the grass beneath them. There was even a wound that she tried hiding with his tattered t-shirt, for she didn't want to see that the pards were ready to begin feasting again. He didn't have long; his eyes were unfocused and the pulse at his wrist weak as she held his hand. She allowed him to shakily bring her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her skin in farewell. Tears began to run down her cheeks, as she watched him struggle to even breathe, their silent damnation only diminished by Adrian's startled gasp.

"What the hell is that?!"

Clara looked up and saw a shadowy figure by the trees. Her own breathing became shallow as it slowly came closer and revealed itself: a unicorn. It had dark green hair that was filthy and matted, open sores all over its body, and a mane that hung in a tangled mess containing dead leaves, lichen, and twigs. Blood dripped from a sharp, splintered horn and was spattered across its forehead and mouth, dripping down to its chest, legs, and even its hooves, all four of which were unevenly split and bloody from lack of proper care.

"Keep away!" she shouted was it walked towards them. "Please! Let him die in peace! Hasn't he had enough of you creatures?!"

"Uh, Clara, should you be shouting at that…?" Adrian asked. He crouched as he walked towards his friends, ready to make a leap if necessary.

"I don't bloody well care anymore," she snapped, choking back tears. Staring down the creature, she snarled as it stepped ever closer, "If you dare hurt him, I don't care what kind of myths exist about the misfortunes involved in killing one of you—I'll do it. I know you understand me—don't you even pretend to not understand."

The unicorn stopped a few yards away and stared at the two humans and the dying werewolf. It snorted and scratched the ground with one of its front hooves. As the clouds in the sky shifted and allowed the moon to shine through, the creature reared on its hind legs and emitted a screeching, grinding, groaning sort of sound that made Clara and Adrian both shut their eyes in a wince while clapping their hands over their ears. It gradually turned into a horse's whinny, at which the humans looked again—the light reflecting off the moon had fully illuminated the creature, turning it into a silvery-white, majestic equine more appropriate for the legends of old.

Clara watched carefully as the unicorn continued to walk towards her and Basil, ready to pull him away at any moment. The unicorn bent down and nudged Basil with its nose—nothing.

"He's dying," she repeated. "The pards… they… they…"

The unicorn shifted its head awkwardly and put its horn to Basil's chest, right above his heart. It slowly pressed the tip of the horn against his body and put distinct pressure on the area. The horn began to glow softly as moonlight continued to bathe them all, confusing the two humans beyond their own comprehension. Basil's labored breathing evened out and eventually shallowed to the point of nothingness. Pulling away, the unicorn's horn dulled until it was no longer glowing, nudging Clara's cheek with its nose.

"Thank you," she replied. She felt Adrian kneel down next to her and put his hand on her shoulder, giving her the support he had already offered once over a year ago. "I think it stopped his suffering. He can die in peace now." She sniffled at the admission, not wanting to say too much more aloud.

"We'll figure out how to find the park rangers in the morning," Adrian said. The clouds closed and the unicorn was once again the horrid monster from a gothic teen's nightmare, now emanating a stink that washed over the two of them in a putrid haze. It slowly walked away; there was no more work to be done.

As Clara sat cradling Basil's still form and Adrian worked on getting their packs from the tree, the sky again began to shift and clear. Moonlight bathed them once more, making the human woman curse to herself as she held her fiancé—another man she dared to love—and closed her eyes. Had it been there an hour beforehand, they might have possibly avoided all of this…

…or, so it would have seemed at first.

"Clara…?" Adrian's voice sounded weak, as though he had seen his third great fright of the night, yet was still attempting to process the first.

"Leave me alone," she replied.

"No, Clara, look."

Opening her eyes, Clara saw that Basil's body was beginning to glow. Radiating out from the point where the unicorn's horn had poked him, the soft and pale golden light soon covered his entire body, erasing gouges, setting bones, sewing muscle and sinew back together, allowing him to become whole again. His breathing became more robust and, as the final bit of light retreated towards his heart, his eyelids fluttered open.

"C-Cla-Clara…?"

Sobbing again, Clara hugged her fiancé tightly as she cried into his shoulder. She allowed herself the moment of hysterical weakness, for if the roles were reversed, would anyone blame them? Not at all; even if they did, she would make them eat their mockery in shame. Hysterics were nothing but right for the moment, for her emotions were too great to be constrained. Basil, on the other hand, silently held Clara as he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head—he was alive.

"Incredible," Adrian marveled. He dropped the pack he was holding and staggered over towards his coworkers, mind positively boggled. "You didn't die."

"What happened?" Basil asked. "Don't let your brain turn to pudding now; how am I still here?"

"A unicorn, I think," the younger man replied. "At least, it was a unicorn under the moon—I don't know what it was when the clouds were blocking the light."

Basil then glanced down towards his chest and touched the spot right above his heart. "Alicorn…? Really…?"

"What?" Clara sniffled. She moved the tattered shirt aside and saw a small dent in his skin where the horn had been.

"Alicorn: the horn of a unicorn, where much of its magical properties are released due to being exposed bone, therefore an excellent conduit of fairy talents," he explained. "Narwhal tusks were sold for centuries with the claim that they were the famed and genuine article, leading to overhunting and many poisonings brought from haughty braggarts' faulty goblets. Very few examples of the real deal have made their way around the normal human world, and even those were unable to cure ailments and prevent deaths the way the rumors claimed."

"…was it because the unicorn wasn't alive…?" Adrian asked.

"Fatal flaws involve more than the death of those who possess said flaw," Basil nodded. He stood and helped Clara get to her feet as well. "A unicorn doesn't help just anyone… you… you must have summoned it… asked for it to help…"

"Do I have to mention that I don't precisely meet the requirements anymore and haven't for more than a few years now?" she muttered. Clara leaned into Basil as she stood, knees still wobbly from the shock of watching him go to and return from the brink of death in the span of a few minutes.

"Virginity has nothing to do with it," he replied bluntly. "It all has to do with the quality of one's heart and soul, that they are not asking for the unicorn's cooperation and help only to squander it, and the misconception came around when it appeared that the virgins those doddering old fools threw out in sacrifice were so terrified for their lives that there was no way they could think about anything else other than asking it to allow them to live. It's a simple enough—"

Basil was cut off by Clara pulling him down by the collar and kissing him, occupying his mouth with hers instead of rambling on about this thing and that. She had him back and although she was incredibly turned on by his cleverness, she also needed him to shut up that very instant.

They had too much company for her to allow him to talk her into horniness, after all.

The three trudged themselves back to the bothy under the moonlit sky, Adrian taking the bunk again, with Clara snuggled into the half-wolf Basil on the floor, all getting the best rest they'd had in weeks.