A/N: Yes, we finally get to find out the identity of the she-wolf in this chapter. I know you've been waiting for this since she was introduced, what, six chapters ago? Honestly most of you have probably figured it out already :) but oh well. Here's the confirmation! There's also a buried Arrow reference in here...see if you can spot it, if you have any idea what I'm talking about. ALSO: We get another foreign language being spoken in this chapter! You know, one that isn't Russian!...Again, sorry if the translations are crap, I use Google Translate and it's not accurate. WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD for Mackenzie Lee's book Loki: Where Mischief Lies.

Disclaimer: Do I even have to put this anymore? Marvel/Disney's. Not mine.

9. I Cannot Stay My Hand

The wind through his fur was liberating; it was cold, but being a wolf with thick layers of fur and besides that being a Jotun, it didn't bother him. He barely felt the ground beneath his paws as he ran for the New Jersey border, away from the strict confines of the Tower and free, free the way he could only be as a wolf.

Loki raced across the river and into the forest. He could scent the she-wolf on his heels; she'd been following him since Central Park. Loki was determined to find out who she was tonight; ever since Halloween and his encounter with the Valkyrie he'd obsessed over the she-wolf's identity. He didn't think a Valkyrie with that skin and hair tone would end up as a russet-furred wolf, but he never knew; Midgardian wolves were strange.

Then again, Loki reflected, so was he.

He reached his clearing and bounded up onto the rock; he'd hunt later, after he figured out who the she-wolf was. Loki looked up at the moon, ears pricked for her slow approach. How to get her to reveal her presence...?

He howled. Head back, ears flat against his head, nose in the air, eyes bright in the light of the moon, long, high, piercing, sure to elicit a Howling from other wolves in the area. He howled, and he waited for hers to join him.

When the alpha howled, the she-wolf had to fight hard to keep silent. This was definitely an alpha; only alphas could howl that long and loud and draw other wolves into a Howling the way he was surely doing. The she-wolf fought hard against the instinct -

But she eventually gave in, tilted her head back towards the moon, and howled right along with him.

Yes! It had worked! She was howling with him; he could pinpoint her location now. Behind him, on the ground, and a little to his left, the way a chief beta would be in a pack. The alpha female would be at his right, if he had one - though he wasn't interested in females of any kind, alpha or not. His heart belonged to one person only...

Loki forced his thoughts away from that path. Focus on her. Hear her mind-speak.

Loki cut his howl short; she stopped a moment or two later. He could hear distant howls of other wolves responding to his call, and a few other alphas trying to top his Howling. Wait, when did I start thinking of myself as an alpha? Loki thought to himself. He supposed it was just his wolf instinct; it told him the place he'd be in a pack hierarchy, as he supposed it did for all lone wolves.

He stretched his thoughts out to touch hers, to try and get some sense of what was going through her mind. What he found shocked him.

Глупая Альфа, вызывающая вой ... [Stupid Alpha, causing a Howling...]

Natasha? Loki thought at her, employing his mind-speak.

The she-wolf bristled. Natasha Romanoff? Loki elaborated. Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., the Black Widow, trained in the Red Room in Russia, Clint Barton's partner, Phil Coulson's asset?

How - how do you know all that? the she-wolf - Natasha? - asked.

Haven't you figured out who I am yet? asked Loki.

Um...

British, Loki said. Coffee is gross. Weird dreams featuring Thor.

...Loki?

Bingo.

How...? Why...? Natasha sounded confused.

Loki gestured with his nose, tail flicking. Come up here and join me. I'll...do my best to explain.

Natasha stalked out of the shadows. Loki scooted over atop the rock and settled down with his tail curled around his flank, a clear invitation. Natasha bounded lightly onto the rock beside him, and gave his icy pelt a thorough sniffing before settling down beside him.

Explain, Natasha ordered, accompanying it with a low growl.

What do you want to know? Loki asked.

What are you?

A Jotunwolf. A unique one, at that. Near as I can figure, I was bitten by a werewolf when I was abandoned as a baby on my homeworld of Jotunheim - the realm of the Frost Giants. Odin found me shortly after, but the wound had already closed due to my accelerated healing.

Why did I only see you for three nights last time?

Jotunwolves only transform three nights a month. We're weird that way. This is my first transformation of the cycle.

How many times has your cycle come around since you arrived on Earth?

Just the once. This is its second run.

Did you come to this clearing eveery time? Did you go anywhere else before or after this clearing?

The first night I hesitated in Central Park, but there were already a pack or two there so I moved on. Every other night I came straight here.

Do any of the others know?

No, none of the Avengers. My mother knows, and what's moe unsettling is that the Valkyrie I met at the Halloween party - the one who guessed most of the Avengers correctly, the one who called herself Scrapper 142 - she knows I'm a wolf. And she told me so.

Do you have a pack?

No. Jotunwolves are solitary creatures, unlike most others. We don't tend to travel in packs, mostly kin if there are multiple wolves in one family.

How do you get out of the Tower?

My window.

Natasha sounded incredulous now. How? The Tower is pretty much a smooth surface, not to mention the fact that your room is far too many stories above the ground for you to survive a fall like that every night, even with your speed healing.

Ah, yes, but I've had experience climbing unclimbable structures, such as the Asgardian palace. The Tower is difficult to climb, but not impossible, and I make it about halfway down before I jump the rest of the way. It can be painful, but it's never fatal.

Do you have any idea why the Valkyrie girl knew you're a werewolf?

If Loki had been in his normal form, he would have smirked. As it was, he thought Natasha got the gist of it, as her eyes gleamed a little brighter.

I feel like I'm being interrogated, Loki remarked. No, I have no clue. He leaned forward and sniffed her face, eliciting a playful growl from her. Can I ask you the questions now?

Fine, Natasha grumbled.

How did you become a wolf?

I was bitten, same as you.

Details, please. When? How long have you been like this? How long have you known?

Slow down there, Обманщик [Trickster]. It was quite a few years ago - I was still with the Red Room. I don't know who bit me, but I woke up one morning in a cave with a wolf staring at me. I didn't outwardly freak out - I had been trained better than that, after all - but I was internally panicking. That only intensified when the wolf transformed itelf into a man. He told me his name was Anatoly. Asked what mine was. I wouldn't tell him at first. He kept me there for weeks. After the first night, I realized why - I had almost turned into a wolf myself. After that I was a lot more open to the man. He taught me how to master control of it. I still keep up a correspondence with him, through a secret email account buried in the back of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files where even Fury can't find it.

Loki had to admit, that story was impressive. How do you get out of the Tower?

Simple: I walk.

Loki looked at her. He would have raised an eyebrow if he could. As it was, the best he culd do was twitch his ear.

You just walk, he repeated.

Yes, Natasha confirmed.

As a wolf?

No. Of course not. How do you think people would react if they saw a large russet-colored she-wolf walking calmly out of Avengers Tower?

Fair point. Though no one bats an eye when a white-furred wolf drops from a balcony halfway up the Tower in the middle of the night, either.

That's because we're in New York and nobody pays attention to the Tower unless we're all gathered outside it.

Also fair.

Loki looked back up at the moon; Natasha followed suit, their noses both in the air.

It's quite refreshing being out here, Natasha commented. As a wolf. I can't even imagine how it is for you - you must feel like a caged animal, cooped up in the Tower all the time unless I drag you outside.

Hey, I'd go outside a lot more if Stark trusted me enough to not destroy the city if left unsupervised. Loki paused. But you're right. It does get me feeling like a caged animal sometimes.

Natasha licked his ear, something that in any other circumstance would be extremely weird but in this case was completely normal. And with you not being able to change form at will like I can...

It's much easier as a wolf, Loki agreed. Except when I have to hunt.

Have to? Natasha echoed, cocking her head to one side curiously.

Loki all but sighed. It's another thing with Jotunwolves. The Frost Giants are generally feral creatures, and therefore the werewolves thrive off the hunt, not to mention the fact that most are generally large enough to take on a Jotun-beast and win. So it's become part of a Jotunwolf's nature to be required to hunt at least once on the three nights of transformation.

Well then, Natasha said, leaping to her paws, let's go.

Excuse me? Loki asked.

British, Natasha thought again. Loki was sure he could detect a singsong lilt to her mind-voice. You idiot, I'm coming with you.

To hunt? Nat, you don't need to do that, not if hunting isn't mandatory for Midgardian wolves -

I'm coming with you anyway.

Loki knew there was no arguing with her, so he just stood up and stretched out his paws. Come on, then.

He leaped off the rock and landed neatly on all four paws; Natasha followed. The pair stalked away through the forest, senses alert. They didn't talk; both of them knew the importance of letting the wolf take control for the hunt. They walked like they would in a pack - Loki, the alpha, in front, with his chief beta a little behind and to his left. Their ears were pricked, their eyes bright; this was the hour of the wolf.

Their paws made no sound on the cold, hard ground as they treaded lightly through the forest, staying downwind. Most prey animals' sense of smell wasn't nearly as good as theirs, but it still wasn't wise to get upwind of their prey.

His nose twitched; a slight flick of an ear in her direction told her he'd scnted something. Deer, by the smell of it; a doe, rather young. A low growl built up in the back of his throat, too quiet for the doe - still some feet away, grazing peacefully among the plant life - to hear but loud enough for his beta to pick up on.

They separated; she circled around to the doe's left flank; he remained crouched facing her right. He crept forward a few paces; just visible on the other side of the doe, his beta did the same. His ear twitched, ever so slightly, just enough of a signal.

Both wolves sprang. The doe had no time to even let out a startled noise before the wolves were on her, biting into her flanks and dragging her down. He delivered the killing blow, and his beta dragged it around a bit to make sure their prey was really dead.

They could have dragged it back to the clearing, but instead the alpha settled down to eat it there; the voice of his host in the back of his head had vehemently denied that. His beta followed suit, sniffing the dead doe's pelt a few times.

She let him take the first bite; after all, he was the alpha and it had been his kill. This was the way of the wolf, and though he was used to hunting alone, somehow this felt right. As usual, the doe didn't taste quite right; it was that pesky voice of his host again, his host's conscience and consciousness in general, still wildly vocal for all that it - he - had been briefly suppressed by the alpha himself. He got the feeling, just from reading his beta's body language, that she was feeling something similar with her host.

The alpha kept eating, not noticing the chill of the ground against his vulnerable belly. He only rarely got to do this; his host always had some control. And still it felt like there was something locked deep inside him, some feeling that he couldn't shake no matter what form he was in.

It was a great burden. His beta seemed to sense this, because she stretched her head over what remained of the prey to bury her nose in his fur comfortingly.

He let her, staring up at the moon and wishing, though he formed no human thought, for the release of being free.

They remained in the clearing for a half hour after the hunt before Loki and Natasha both agreed it was probably best to head back to the Tower and at least try to get some sleep. It had been somewhat of a strange experience for Loki when he'd let the wolf take full control; he'd never done that fully before. He'd always felt as if he had one hand on the wheel. That...that had been the wolf locking him in the trunk, though he had seemed to listen to Loki's frantic protests about the kill and not enjoying it too much. He hadn't been happy about it; Loki could tell that much; but he had listened, for which Loki was grateful.

This had been nice, Loki reflected. He'd always hunted alone, always spent his nights as a wolf staring out at the stars. But tonight he'd had a companion, a beta, and he hadn't looked to the stars for his solace; instead he had found it in Natasha's presence.

Natasha seemed to sense what he was thinking. Hey, she said, brushing her flank against his side. You good?

Yeah, Loki replied. Not sure if I'll be able to sleep, though. I'll try, but...on my transformation nights, the only thing I want is to be the wolf. When I'm back at the Tower...that's not exactly the easiest thing to do.

You'll manage, Natasha told him.

Loki gave her a look as best he could while in wolf form. How are you so optimistic?

Because I know you, идиот, Natasha told him, her mind-voice a dry chuckle.

Loki was only slightly offended that she'd just called him an idiot in Russian.

They reached the Tower; Loki made for his usual detour, but a cuff around the ear from Tasha's paw stopped him.

What?

Come on, front door, Tasha told him.

Tasha, I don't really think that's a good idea -

No one's going to notice, they're all asleep. Come. On.

Loki flicked his tail and followed her.

They hesitated in the shadow of the Tower; there, Natasha transformed back into a human. Loki looked away as she did so; Midgardian wolves' clothes tended to explode off of them when they transformed. He assumed she had hidden an outfit out here for exactly this reason.

"I'm good, you can look now," Natasha said.

Loki looked back over; his friend stood in human form again. She approached; he let her.

Hesitantly, she ran her fingers through his fur. Loki let her, watching her with keen eyes. He knew this would look strange to any passing humans that happened to notice - Natasha Romanoff petting a large, white-furred wolf outside Avengers Tower was not something normal, even by New York's wacky standards - but he didn't particularly care. Her hand was gentle in his fur, something Loki hadn't expected given what he knew of her.

He should've known better.

"Do I need to look away when you transform, or...?" Natasha asked quietly.

Loki shook his head. Natasha backed away with a slightly confused expression.

Loki had to mentally wrestle with the wolf to get him to go back to sleep. When he won that fight and transformed back into himself, he looked up to find Natasha staring.

"What?" Loki asked.

"How do you -?" Natasha cut herself off.

"What, keep my clothes on when I transform?" Loki finished. She nodded. "I don't know. It's always been like that. My clothes just sort of...melt into my fur, I guess."

Natasha shook her head. "Jotunwolves are weird."

"I never said I disagreed," Loki laughed. "Now come on, let's go inside."

The pair entered the Tower. It was strange seeing the place, even just the ground floor, so still; normally there was a buzz of activity around the whole building, with S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and Stark Industries technicians alike wandering its business floors and the Avengers and Loki doing whatever it was they did when they Avengers weren't out saving the world.

They hit the residential floors in a matter of minutes, and Loki bid Natasha good night before entering his room and collapsing on his bed. He was exhausted; the transformation always left him exhausted.

He changed into what worked as his "pajamas" - literally just a T-shirt and pajama pants - and laid on his bed again, but for all that he was exhausted, he couldn't fall asleep.

Eventually Loki gave up. I'm going to get myself a glass of water, he thought to himself, and try to actually sleep.

So he got out of bed and padded down the hall to the elevator, heading up the lounge. He entered the place and headed straight for the bar/mini-kitchen in the back, finding a glass and filling it with water, which he downed easily. He'd just set the glass down to refill it when he heard someone's voice, softly from the other side of the room.

"Zitto ora, tesoro mio / Figlio mio, non piangere / La mamma è proprio qui ora / Con una dolce ninna nanna ..." [Hush now, my darling/My son, don't you cry/Mama's right here now/With a sweet lullaby...]

Loki looked over curiously. It was...Stark?

That wasn't something Loki had ever expected. He wondered what language Stark was singing in - he didn't recognize it.

Almost befor ehe knew what he was doing, Loki had refilled his glass and walked over to the other side of the room.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Stark cut off abruptly, looking up at Loki in surprise. Rather than reacting the way Loki was sure he would, he just shrugged and moved over to the other end of the couch. Loki sat down before Stark could come to his senses and send Loki away.

"Nope," Stark said. "Though that's not unusual. What about you?"

"Same thing," Loki sighed. "Been tossing and turning all night. I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep."

"I hate that feeling," Stark muttered. "It gets annoying."

"What language were you singing in?" asked Loki.

"Italian," Stark replied, a trace of sadness in his voice. "It was a lullaby my mother used to sing to me. Some of her ancestors were Italian, and the lullaby got passed down from generation to generation, as did the language itself. She taught me to speak Italian."

"Tell me about her," Loki requested, not missing the definite sadness in his voice as Stark mentioned his mother. Something had happened that still haunted him.

Stark smiled a little. Loki noticed for the first time the glass of alcohol - whiskey, maybe - in his hand.

"Her name was Maria. I still don't know how she put up with my dad for as many years as she did - he was a notorious playboy for years before he met her, and wasn't exactly the nicest guy ever. But she put up with him, and when I was born...she told me on more than one occasion that she fell in love the moment she laid eyes on me. As a teenager I never questioned it; now, looking back on what's happened since she died, I have to wonder why. I'm so much like Howard it's scary, yet out of the two of us, I was always her favorite. I never understood that."

Loki smiled slightly. "Frigga was always like that, too," he confided. "She tolerates Odin, loves him even, though I can't see how; and if it came down to a choice between me and Thor, she'd always choose me. I never understood it either - everyone always chose Thor. Thor was the Golden Prince, the one everyone expected to be king, the one everyone looked up to and loved. I was the dark one, the quiet one, the one everyone scorned. Except her. Mother always chose me over Thor, even when Odin tried to pressure her not to."

Stark looked over at him. "You miss her."

Loki nodded. "Yes I do. She was the only person that understood me - besides Amora, but she turned out evil." He smiled ruefully. "It seems only fitting that that should have been my fate as well."

"What do you mean?" Stark asked. "What the hell happened to you on Asgard?"

"For as long as I can remember, I've been an outcast," Loki explained. "Everyone looked to Thor: his golden brilliance, his strength, the fact that Mjolnir deemed him worthy, his accomplishments in the training arena and on occasion on the battlefield as well. He had all the popularity, all the friends, all the people's adoration."

Stark must have noticed his bitter tone. "And what about you?"

Loki scoffed. "I was the studious one, the quiet one. I blended into the background. I preferred to talk and trick my way out of situations, rather than starting a brawl. I was never any good with any weapon but my daggers and my magic. I was the sorcerer, the magician, the freak. The prince no one trusted. The prince no one wanted to see crowned king. The prince everyone blamed when things went sideways. Even Thor's friends - the Lady Sif, Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun of Vanaheim - they tolerated me occasionally, but they were always quick to the sword and always let the blame fall on me if something we all did together went wrong.

"At first, Odin didn't want me practicing magic. He wanted me to be as thick-headed as Thor, to abandon my studies of sorcery and trickery and spend more time in the training arena, getting laughed at by the Einherjar because I wasn't a good fighter. But the one time I've ever known Frigga to go directly against Odin's word was when she began to teach me how to use my magic in secret. I became strong in ways no one thought possible.

"Amora was the actual apprentice of the royal sorceress - though I have no idea what happened to her after Amora's death. She just sort of...disappeared. Anyway, Amora and I accidentally broke the Godseye Mirror, one of Odin's relics, and she took the fall for it. Odin exiled her here, to Earth - nineteenth-century London, to be exact. This was when Earth was a very magic-dry planet, before civilizations grew and with them, the age of magic. It was, in short, the worst place to exile a magic-thriving being to. Yet somehow she survived, by literally sucking the souls out of people. I was sent to stop her, though we didn't know it was her at first. I was devastated when I realized how evil she had become.

"And then, when Odin finally told me what I was, and I turned as dark as I did, as evil...it was poetic justice, I suppose. Amora warned me that nothing good would come of this. She warned me that I'd become just like her." Loki paused. "I guess she was right."

"Hell no," Stark said.

"Excuse me?" Loki raised an eyebrow, hearing Tasha's British comment in his head again.

"You're nothing like this Amora person," Stark clarified.

"Did you not hear a word I just said?" Loki asked incredulously.

"I heard you. And that's why I know you're nothing like her," Stark stated.

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Enlighten me."

"You're not like this Amora lady," Stark repeated. "You said she was literally sucking the souls out of people. Yeah, what you did was bad; you killed people, you mind-controlled people, you nearly destroyed the Earth - so yeah, okay, you were a villain. You were the bad guy. But you were never truly evil; and you've proven that over and over by the fact that you're here, and you're trying to mend fences, and you're trying to change. You're trying to prove, to yourself as much as to us and to Odin, that you're not the villain you pretend to be. You actually have some shred of whatever you call humanity in Asgard left, and personally I think it's a lot more than a shred. This Amora person?" Stark shook his head. "You told me she sucked people's souls out to keep herself alive. That is evil. So no, you're nothing like she was, and you never will be, because despite everything you'e done and everything you've put the team through, you are still a good man."

Loki surveyed him. "When did you become so wise, Stark?"

"Many nights staying up working too late," Stark sighed. "Gives me a lot of time to think."

"You know, you don't have to work on whatever it is you work on down in your workshop so late every night," Loki said. "It is possible to go to bed."

"No, it really isn't," Stark shook his head. "I don't have a choice about this."

"You always have a choice," Loki corrected. "Everything's a choice. Nobody's born good. Nobody's born evil. It's always a choice. Even the small things like this, like tinkering all night in your workshop, it's a choice. It may feel forced, but believe me, it isn't."

"This from the guy I was just reassuring wasn't evil?" Stark chuckled. Loki laughed with him, relaxed for the first time tonight. The wolf in him appeared to be sound asleep again.

"Yes, well. Like you said, I'm changing," Loki said.

"Barton doesn't see it that way," Stark said.

Loki sighed. "I don't know what I can do to get through to him."

"Just keep trying," Stark told him. "He'll come around. Eventually."

"'Eventually' might not be soon enough," Loki sighed.

They fell silent for a few moments. It was strange, Loki thought, being this civil with Staark in the middle of the night. It was as if they were actually friends.

"You know Rogers likes you, right?"

Stark looked at him, surprised. "What?"

Loki was mentally cursing himself and his quick tongue, but he responded anyway.

"Rogers. He likes you."

"We're friends, that's nothing new."

"No, I mean he likes you." Loki felt like a teenager gossiping about the lastest who-likes-who deal they way both Midgardians and Asgardians did. "I mean, he's into you."

"What? Steve? Into m-me?" Stark tripped over his words a little; Loki couldn't quite tell, but it looked like he was blushing, hard. "You're insane."

"I have been told that," Loki conceded. "Repeatedly. Mostly by Thor. But I'm not making this up. When I was a girl a few days ago - I ended up next to Rogers on the couch, remember?"

"Yeah, he was drawing again," Stark said. "He's been doing that a lot lately."

"He was drawing you, Stark," Loki told him.

"You're lying," Stark accused immediately.

"Normally? Yes. Now? No. Stark, I'm serious, and I'm being perfectly honest. Rogers was drawing you that day. And quite well, too," Loki informed him. Stark relaxed a little, now looking more incredulous than anything.

"Steve was drawing me?" he echoed.

Loki nodded. "Yes, you dork. He even watched you and Banner work, focused on you, while your back was turned. He told me - well, I should let him tell you himself."

"Tell me what, exactly?" Stark pressed.

Loki grinned. "Nope. You have to find him and ask him yourself."

Stark glared halfheartedly at him. "No fair."

"I am the God of Mischief," Loki reminded him. "I'm not supposed to be fair."

Stark chuckled at that. "You're not so bad, Loki," he admitted. "Even if you did try to, you know, destroy the world."

"I tried to rule it," Loki corrected. "And failed. And had a very disturbing dream recently of what would have happened if I had won."

"Disturbing dream, huh?" Stark sighed. "I'm used to those."

Loki felt a pang of guilt wash through him. It was partially his fault that Stark had PTSD, after all.

"You know," Loki said, "maybe if you and Rogers get together, you'll find you'll be able to sleep better with him at your side."

"Maybe..." Stark trailed off, then realized what he'd basically just admitted. "Hey!"

Loki laughed. Stark glared halfheartedly at him again. "You, Loki, are one devious man," Stark chuckled.

"I take that as a compliment, Stark," Loki told him. He drained the glass of water he still held and stood up. "I'm going to go try this sleeping thing again."

"It's Tony," called Stark as Loki returned the glass to the mini-kitchen.

"I know," Loki said, turning back to him with a quizzical expression.

"No, I mean - you've earned the right to call me by my first name. If you want," Stark - no, Tony - offered.

Loki smiled. "I'll keep that in mind...Tony."

He disappeared into the elevator and headed back to his room. This time, when he climbed into bed, he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

It was the third night that they finally had the discussion about a pack.

Loki and Natasha had exited the Tower together, transformed one after the other (it had been Loki's turn to reach out and run his fingers through Tasha's fur before transforming himself), and bounded into the Jersey woods twice now; once the second night, and once tonight, Loki's third and final transformation night. Both times they'd headed straight for the clearing.

The second night of Loki's transformation, the pair had spent the night chasing each other around the clearing, playing and testing each other's strengths and weaknesses, the way and alpha and beta would sometimes due in normal wolf packs. Loki had inadvertently started another Howling, which Natasha had admonished him quite thoroughly in Russian for.

Now, they lay side by side on the rock, heads on their paws and staring intently at each other.

So, Natasha said.

So what? Loki replied, then realized how that had sounded and barked a quiet laugh. Natasha growled under her breath at him, a not-so-subtle way of telling him to shut the hell up.

So...we have to discuss this whole rank thing, Natasha reminded him.

Loki's ears flattened and he growled. Ugh, why?!

Because, werewolves are pack creatures by nature - even you have to admit having me around has been enjoyable.

...Point.

So we need to truly settle what our ranks in a pack would be. We both pretty much know already, but it's nice to have confirmation.

...Ugh, fine. What am I?

She sniffed him intently for a few moments. An alpha, Tasha declared. You are mot definitely an alpha. What about me?

It was Loki's turn to sniff her intently. You're a beta, he told her. A high-ranking one at that. Second- or third-in-command, I'd say.

Top beta, huh? Tasha mused. I suppose that makes sense. It would be a little weird if we were both alphas.

That it would.

They fell silent for a few moments, in which Loki studied his friend, watching the way her ears and nose twitched; she was constantly alert, as was he. They had to be; if someone they knew were to come across them out here...it may be a little strange.

Loki, Tasha said.

Yes?

I know you said Jotunwolves are solitary creatures, but...

But what?

How would you feel about trying to form a pack?

Loki was silent for a long time. A pack...he'd never considered the possibility of having a pack before, never needed to. He was used to being alone; there weren't all that many werewolves on Asgard, and the ones that there were he never saw. Besides, Jotunwolves were supposed to work alone...yet having Natasha with him the past three nights had made them that much more bearable. Even the hunt was easier with Tasha helping him out.

But a pack...

Who would we find that would join us? Loki asked. Midgardian werewolves are pack creatures. Most already have packs, and the ones that don't most likely don't want one.

I don't know, Natasha groaned. We'll figure it out, though. If you want to start a pack, that is.

Let me...think about it. I may be an alpha, but I'm also not used to leading. I've always survived on my own.

I understand. Natasha leaned forward and brushed her nose against his fur. Take your time, Loki. This is kind of a big decision.

Loki blinked his appreciation at her. Their conversation diverged. and Loki spent the rest of the night with a sense of mingled quiet contentment and pressing urgency. It was a big decision.

But it could wait until tomorrow.

The ferocious she-wolf flicked her tail and turned away. Her view of the clearing where the alpha and his friend was limiteed due to the fact that it was located in the middle of a forest, but she had seen enough to know it was him. She didn't know who his friend was, but she'd find out.

She always found out.

She glanced up at the moon; it would start to set soon, which meant the alpha and his friend would be heading back into New York. Time for her to disappear.

She only glanced back once at the clearing, when she was far enough away that she could barely see them through the trees. They looked so content on that rock; she wondered again if they were mates, though that shouldn't be the case.

She shook it off; that alpha would pay for what he'd done. Eventually.

With that thought, she bounded away into the forest, disappearing into the night.

Dun. Dun. Dun...*evil laughter* Yes, we have established that I'm evil. But I had to post this today because, guess what, it's the Thor-forsaken Election Day in America! So, to all American readers: This is for you to take your mind off the chaos currently going on at the White House. For everyone else...please pray for us. This country is fucked. Also, please leave your guesses as to who this new (and very pissed off) she-wolf is in your reviews!