Alfred's mind is racing as he scans his surroundings.

All those years of military training instantly kick in, like a switch has been flipped in his head, and everything becomes calculated.

Three to the left, four to the right.

He shifts, almost imperceptibly, putting more of his weight on his right foot and slowly rotates his wrist, aiming his sword more towards them. To his left, he knows without even looking that Gilbert is doing the exact same thing.

Each breath is measured, every twitch of the wolves before them is seen and adjusted for. Any attack, from any angle is precisely planned for. The beasts could pounce at any second, and Al knows that the next few moments will very well decide if they live or die.

He can't allow for even a second of hesitation, but deep within his core, he can feel through their bond, something is off.

He frowns at the sensation coming from Arthur, like he's waiting for something. But it's more than that, the more Al contemplates it, the more he unravels the feelings twisting inside his friend. Hesitation, wariness, fear and intimidation are all spiralling inside him, freezing Arthur in place as he stares up at the pack leader standing right in front of them.

Alfred would wonder why Arthur of all people is intimidated by them, if the answer wasn't obvious.

Never having seen any other giant wolves beside Arthur, Al never had anything to compare the snow wolf too. Not once did it ever occur to Alfred, that Arthur was small for his kind.

For a moment Al considers that the size difference is because their different species, just because they're both giant wolves, doesn't mean they have to be the same. Looking the pack over, Al quickly picks out all the differences he can see.

The first major difference is the fur; these wolves are a mix of blended greys, darker areas around the shoulders and lighter across the belly and paws. Their coats are thinner too, giving them the look of being much slimmer than Arthur. Then, there's the eyes, all slightly larger than the snow wolf's, with wide dark pupils and deep brown or grey irises. Their snouts and ears are more pointed, and their legs leaner. And of course, he loops back to the size difference. The largest wolf, the pack leader, stands a full head and shoulders taller than Arthur, and even the smallest of the others still towers over the snow wolf by a good few inches.

Standing here, exposed in this tiny clearing, Alfred is fully aware things don't look good. He is all too aware of what Arthur alone is able to do to a group of fully armoured guards, and they, with only the most basic of light armour, stand little chance against this pack.

Even so, he refuses to accept their impending doom, no matter how bad things look.

He's prepared for the attack, but what he's not ready for, is the strange deep voice that rumbles through his mind as the pack leader growls.

'What do we have here?' He grumbles, narrowing his eyes at Arthur.

Alfred blinks at the sound. The voice is slightly garbled with an odd accent he's never heard before, but he still manages to understand the wolf.

His mind races more with this realisation, and distantly he remembers the words he read in his father's journal; he should be able to speak with all Beasts, but wolves like Arthur would be easiest.

But before he can do anything with this newfound knowledge, the leader huffs, rising to its full height as he sneers down at Arthur.

'A poor little packless runt has gotten himself lost.'

Alfred almost gasps at the sharp twang of pain and anger that radiates from Arthur at the insult, and much to his surprise he sees the snow wolf visibly flinch.

The flinch doesn't go unnoticed by the other wolves either, and the leader somehow twists its face into an even more smug sneer as the others make a strange chittering noise. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the noise is them laughing.

When the wolf takes an intimidating step closer, Gil aims his sword for it, but Al quickly throws out his hand, signalling him to stop and opens his mouth to speak, but is beat to it by Arthur.

'I am not lost, nor am I alone.' His voice is even, but Al can hear the odd lack of strength behind his words.

The other wolves seem to pick up on this as well.

'Ohh?' The leader quirks his head at him, 'Then do tell, just where is your pack runt?' He drawls mockingly, laughing at how Arthur tries not to flinch again at the insult.

Alfred can't stand this any longer.

Purposely stepping forward to be by Arthur's head, he raises his blade, pointing it right at the leaders face, he makes his presence known.

"We're his pack."

Out of the corner of his eye, Al sees Gil give him a warning look and he can feel both Arthur's and Mattie's eyes watching him.

The leader blinks in surprise, then lowers his head down to Alfred, studying the young knight.

'Such a small thing you are, and yet you speak so boldly.' A cruel grins slowly spreads across his face as he looks Al over, 'So this is what a human looks like? Is little Runty so weak that he can only keep the company of a pathetic Lower like you?'

Again Alfred feels the pang of hurt at the name, like someone is twisting a knife in Arthur's heart, and an anger of his own begins to boil in defence.

"Don't call him that."

The grey wolf raises an eyebrow at him and seems to chuckle, 'Oh defensive are we?'

"Shut up!" Al snaps, his anger growing the more this wolf talks.

Beside him, he feels a nervousness in Arthur as he whispers Al's name.

It's toying with him, he knows, but that only makes Al more angry.

At Al's shout the wolf's demeanour suddenly shifts and, blinded by his own fury, Al is too slow to see the hit coming. In an instant he's on his back, pinned to the ground by a massive paw, almost losing his grip of his sword in the process as the wind is knocked out of him.

To his left Gil moves to strike, but surrounded as they are, even he can't fend off a whole pack and is pinned face first by one of the others. At the same time, Matthew makes an admirable attempt to defend himself, but it's no surprise he too, is soon face down in the dirt, leaving Arthur as the only one still standing, frozen in place.

'You do not talk back to me!' The leader barks harshly down at Alfred.

'Al!' Arthur cries, breaking out of his stupor and moving to lunge forward, eyes glowing.

'Move and I kill him.' The leader warns, halting Arthur in his tracks.

Lying on his back, Al berates himself for letting this guy get to him and making him drop his guard. To make it's point clear, the wolf presses down more on Al's chest, sharp claws digging into the exposed areas of his neck and making it hard to breathe.

'Don't!' Arthur pleads, the glow fading from his eyes as he remains still, even though Al can feel he desperately wants to save him.

Pinned as he is, Alfred isn't able to move his arm to swing his sword, all he can do is lie there and pray this thing doesn't kill him. Tipping his head back into the damp dirt, he looks over at Arthur, sending him an apologetic look for getting himself stuck.

It's only now that he remembers the two-way factor of their bond; Arthur must also be feeling Al's pain and his difficulty breathing. Watching those wide green eyes, Al can see the fear swirling behind the surface.

Above him, the leader sneers, 'Beg.'

Anger twists within Arthur at the demand, but is far out weighed by the rising fear.

'Please.' Arthur pleads again, 'Don't kill him.'

Alfred can tell the wolf is getting some sick satisfaction out of this as it grins wickedly.

'No no no, that won't do. I said beg. Beg for their lives runt.'

The claws dig in more to Al's neck, drawing blood, and he can hardly get enough air into his lungs from the pressure on his chest.

Past his own pain and fear for both his life and the lives of his friends, Al focuses on his bond with Arthur. Both his and the wolf's feelings are blending together, but within the maelstrom of whirling emotions, he can feel a familiar fear, a sense of dread and terror rising up in Arthur and threatening to overshadow everything else.

Tears sting the back of his eyes of their own accord when Al feels Arthur abandoning his pride as the snow wolf is threatened to be crushed by his own terror.

Alfred may not understand the full implications of what this bastard is making Arthur do, but he knows it feels degrading.

Bowing his head and not looking any of the other wolves in the eye, Arthur slowly lies down flat before them, then carefully rolls to lie on his back.

'Please, I beg of you, don't kill them. Please.' His voice breaks with the choked beg.

Al's vision clouds and tears fall from his eyes at the sight.

'Good,' The leader sneers, jerking its head from one of the others towards Arthur, 'Keep going.'

'Please!' Arthur cries as the signalled wolf stalks over and bites down on his exposed neck, restricting his breathing.

'Go on, it's your life or theirs.' The leader laughs as Arthur struggles to breathe, signalling the others of its pack who aren't holding Gil or Mattie to join in, each biting or painfully stomping down on him.

'Pl..ea…se!'

Alfred feels himself crying more as he's forced to watch, but doesn't have enough air to even cry out himself. He fights as hard as he can, but he can feel he's close to blacking out as dark spots start to dance in the corners of his vision. The more he panics, the worse he knows it's making Arthur feel, and he can see tears glistening in the wolf's eyes as he once again gasps out a plea for their lives.

Then, as Al's struggling desperately beneath the impossibly heavy paw pressing down on him, he experiences something odd.

Images flash across his blurry vision. A jumbled mess of snow, wolves and blood flicker in his mind, and a horrific screeching sound rings deafeningly in his ears. He can't tell one thing from the other, it's all such a confusing mess, then, suddenly it snaps into clarity.

His head hurts and his lungs ache as he lies in the snow.

What happened?

He tries to move, but can't. Why can't he?

He tries to think, but everything hurts so much…

Is it warm here, or cold? He can't tell…

He squints through the pain, trying to figure out what happened.

Everything is oddly dark, but he's sure it's the middle of the day. Is he in the den?

No… that doesn't seem right, it's too narrow in here.

Wait, not narrow. The ceilings not what's low, it's the rocks, that's why he can't move.

His eyes finally adjust and now he can see, it's not darkness he's been squinting at…

A shuddering breath escapes him as everything comes rushing back.

Nononononono….

Everywhere he can look in his trapped position, is snow turned black with blood. The warmth he's been feeling is the blood soaking his fur, and the cold? That's the icy rocks burying him, and no doubt his own blood loss too. And judging by the pain, he's fairly certain he has more than a few broken bones.

A sound that he can only call a nightmare incarnated rips through the air, making him snap his eyes closed and pin his ears to his head to block out the sound.

They have to run, run now!

They?

That's right!

'Peter?' He calls quietly.

Twisting as much as he can, he fights the pain to look around the crushing darkness.

There beside him, a patch of fur.

But…

His eyes widen in horror as he recognises it, even as it's soaked red in blood.

'Pete..' He whispers, eyes slowly trailing up from the tail to…

X

A distant howl pulls Al from the strange vision back to reality. The sound also seems to distract the wolves as the leader lets up some of the pressure on Al's chest, and he desperately gulps in the air he was so deprived of. The ones pinning Arthur also let up, their head snapping up to look in the direction of the sound.

Once his lungs are full again, Al grasps at the opening, putting all his strength into his arm to swing at the wolf's leg, and somehow he manages it. Though he only lands a light hit to the leg, it's enough to make the wolf recoil and allow Alfred room to wriggle free.

Scrambling to his feet, Al raises his sword at the wolf who growls low in anger, making ready to strike.

He's never done this before, but he can't afford to think about the risks of if this doesn't work, because failure is not an option. Again remembering the words in his father's journal, Al pray's that this'll work. They're wolves, just like Arthur after all.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The leader lunges as Al snaps his eyes open, and with a voice filled with power, he commands, "Stop!"

Just like the times he's ordered Arthur, the wolf halts in its tracks, compelled by the command.

Pointing his sword threateningly at the leaders surprised face, he frowns and demands, "Let my friends go."

The wolf's face twitches with anger as it tries to growl, but Alfred won't let up. Looking over his shoulder at Arthur, he can see the lost and fearful look filling his friends face as the images return, only for an instant to faintly flicker across his mind, and with them a single word rings.

Turning back to the leader, he roars, "Obey!", surprised to hear the deep growl that comes from his throat as he says the word.

The wolf clearly tries to fight it, but when Alfred repeats the demand, his voice twisting to sound even more animalistic, it finally bends.

Eyes snapping down, it slowly steps back, bowing its head.

'Let them go.' He tells his pack, and the others are quick to obey.

Now free, Matt and Gil jump to their feet and hurry to Al's side.

"Kid..?" Gil asks slowly, but Al can't think about him now, his mind concentrating on maintaining control of the wolf leader. But he is distracted when Arthur moves to his side, and he can feel just how unstable the snow wolf is.

Stepping forward Arthur growls loudly, mouth open as he bares his teeth and ears back as his face twists into a terrifying snarl, the likes of which Al has never witnessed before. Hackles raised, the fur along Arthur's back stands on end and his tail whips out behind him.

It's a display Alfred has never seen the snow wolf make, and much to his confusion, he doesn't hear Arthur say a single word.

Around them, the other wolves shrink back, whimpering at the sight, only the leader stands up to Arthur as he too, mimics the wild and dangerous look, using his much larger size to tower over the snow wolf.

"Arthur what-" Al starts to ask, but is cut off as the two start to circle and Matt pulls him back. "Mattie?"

"I've read about this," Matthew hurriedly explains, "I think Arthur is challenging it." He doesn't have time to elaborate any further as suddenly Arthur lunges.

"Arthur!" Al calls, reaching out, only to be held back by both Matt and Gil.

Arthur goes for the grey's neck first, and it turn the leader moves to swipe at Arthur's face. Then, it all descends into a twisting, rolling fight as the pair wrestle, tumbling deeper into the dark woods.

Teeth and claws are everywhere, and in the darkness of the forest, it soon becomes impossible to tell one wolf apart from the other as they constantly switch places, moving over and under each other as they fight, both attempting to dominate the other.

Pain explodes across Alfred's right arm, then his left leg, then his neck, face, stomach and back as he feels the injuries inflicted to Arthur, helpless but to watch.

The combines sounds of growls and yelps of pain, of rustling leaves and crushed branches underfoot and body fill the silent forest, and through it all Al feels the blinding cocktail of emotions ravaging Arthur's mind; anger, fear, hate, loss, pain, heartbreak and grief.

Alfred tries to think of a plan to help, but it's difficult enough for him to control the leader, and with Arthur blinded but the whirlpool of emotions driving him, Al has no chance of controlling them both, not to mention all the others. He looks to Gil, but already knows the answer without the man saying it; he could try to paralyse the leader, but with the way things are, he'd almost definitely hit Arthur in the process, then who knows what might happen.

Without warning, they hear a heavy crash and a particularly pained whine, then, silence.

Pulling free of his brother and friend, Al rushes after the wolves, only to stop and stare at what he finds.

The leader, beaten, covered in deep wounds and bleeding heavily from several places, lies on his side as Arthur stands over him, mouth clamped around the leaders throat and paw holding its shoulder down. Despite his apparent victory, Arthur is covered in even more wounds and blood than the wolf he pins.

Alfred worries Arthur might have killed the leader, until he hears the first words from either of them since the fight began.

'I… yield..!'

But even as it gasps this, Arthur shows no sign of letting up, instead, blinded by rage, he bites down even harder, teeth sinking in further as the grey wolf struggles for air below.

Now's Al's chance, he has to calm Arthur down and get him back under control!

Running to the snow wolf's side, Al wraps his arms around Arthur's neck as best he can and pulls back.

"Arthur, stop!" He orders, and is infinitely relieved that it works.

Finally Arthur lets up, spitting the grey wolf's fur from his mouth as he steps back. Panting heavily, both from the fight and from his uncontrolled anger, Arthur looks to Al with wide, worried eyes.

'Al I…' He starts, slowly regaining control of himself.

At their feet, the wolf weakly looks up at Arthur as one of its pack rushes to its side. Alfred can hear a garbled rush of words spilling from it as it licks the leaders wounds, though about the only thing he can get from it is that the voice sounds distinctly female.

Tiredly, the leader sighs to her, 'No Safra, he won. The pack is his.'

Arthur blinks in shock, slowly coming to terms with what he just did, then rapidly shakes his head, 'No no, I… I don't want your pack.'

Confused, the bested leader asks, 'Then, what do you want?'

Panicked, Arthur looks to Alfred for help. Luckily, an idea occurs to the knight at that very moment.

"You know these woods right? You live here after all."

'Yes, of course.'

"We need to go north, we're looking for someone." He grins, "Think you can lead us?"

The leader sighs, then nods, 'Very well.'

Not exactly how Al plan things to go today, but he knows to count his blessings.

"Kid." Gil demands, grabbing Al's arm, "Explain. Now."

Raising his eyebrows Al slowly shakes his head in disbelief as he weakly gestures to the wolves.

"We got ourselves a guide."

Authors notes: Yuuup. So that happened.

This entire chapter can be summed up as the case and point of what happens when you base opinions on your experience of only one of something, then meet others of said thing. Quite quickly you find the one is not an accurate account of the whole. Or simply, Arthur isn't like your average wolf, and these are.

Plus more stress induced flashbacks, though this time Alfred is seeing them too… But hey, Al finally put more of his gift to the test and can now talk to other wolves, so that's something…

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!