Otto IX

The black direwolf pounced with a snarl, his emerald eyes flashing. One of his opponents leapt away, but the other assailant was not as fortunate. The two direwolves rolled on the hard stone floor, scattering scrolls and papers as they fought for dominance. With a thunderous growl, the black wolf finally pinned his opponent to the ground.

Otto Weiss chuckled as the juvenile direwolf got off his sibling and they darted elsewhere, grunting and yapping at each other. More papers took flight as the two wolves chased one another, adding to the chaotic mess inside his office. Otto sighed, smiling at their antics. He remembered when Winter had been as small as the youngsters in his room. That had been months ago, though it might as well have been eons in the past. Close to a year had passed since Otto first met Winter. Eight months if I'm not mistaken. Time sure flies fast when you have great friends, Otto reflected to himself.

The third juvenile direwolf pounced on her siblings and all three beasts went down together. Shadow untangled himself first and sprinted away as his sisters gave chase. The two caramel she-wolves often teamed up against their black-furred brother, since he was larger and stronger than either of them. Shadow was a mirror image of his late father, while his sisters took after their mother. Otto found the resemblance uncanny, especially when the young wolves stood next to their mother, Sly. Otto still resented the omega female and her deceased mate for their role in destroying Winter's family. However, Winter himself was a bit more forgiveful and he treated the juveniles like his own siblings. As far as Otto could tell, the young wolves had not inherited their parents' treachery but he always remained vigilant just in case.

The wolves knocked over a chair as they fought and Otto found himself laughing at their playful antics. He picked the wooden chair up and set it back in place. All three direwolves padded over to him, panting from their exercise. Otto scratched one behind the ear and tossed a bone into the corner of his room. All three raced after the toy, grunting and snarling as they jostled each other. Otto retreated to his desk and sat down, watching the wolves with a smile on his face. He was supervising the youngsters while the rest of the pack was away, hunting and patrolling the coast. The trio had only recently left the safety of their mother's den and now they spent their days roaming around the base. Soon enough, the juveniles would join their pack members and learn to hunt as well. Until then, Otto would be stuck in his office keeping the young wolves out of trouble. Only the gods knew what sort of mischief these juveniles could stir up around the base when they were unsupervised.

Otto sighed and twirled a quill around as he watched the wolves play. He wanted nothing more than to be outside with the rest of his pack, frollicking and hunting to his heart's desire. Instead he was cooped inside his office like some common prisoner. He did not mind supervising the wolves; what really bothered him was the work that his position demanded. Otto constantly found himself writing letters and organizing lists, reviewing inventories and studying maps. It seemed to him that drowning in paperwork was the price of leadership. Otto did not have the patience to sit in his dull office all day long, withering in the darkness like some shrivelled mushroom. He wanted to ride out on Daciana's back and patrol the coast with his rangers, or prowl the tundra with his wolves. He wanted to visit Joseph at the Lookout Hill or scout the riverbanks for other human tribes. He wanted to explore the rugged mountains with nothing but his steed, his sword, and a few trusted friends. Strangely enough, Otto found himself reminiscing about the old days when it was just Joseph, Willam and himself. Back then the only thing he had to worry about was surviving from day to day. Although it had been a harrowing experience, he found himself missing the days when he could be free.

Otto was interrupted from his thoughts by a knock on his door. "My lord," a voice called from the other side. "A messenger from the Lookout Hill begs audience."

"Bring him in," Otto called.

A young boy in a leather doublet entered the room, followed by a bearded man wrapped in furs. All three wolflings sniffed around their heels curiously, but the two survivors paid them no heed. Otto nodded at his squire, Jon, who was a boy of fourteen. Otto had rescued the lad from an angry swarm of dimorphodons and Jon had insisted on serving him afterward. Otto had not wanted a squire at first, but then he realized the boy would be much safer serving him than doing any of the other jobs at the Den.

Jon and the messenger both knelt on the floor, their heads bowed. Otto sighed, annoyed by the formalities that everyone showered him with. "Rise, both of you. I won't have any of this nonsense."

"Of course not, m'lord," the messenger said, head still bowed.

"Please, just call me Otto. What news have you brought from Joseph?"

"There's been many developments at the Lookout Hill. Lord Joseph has started construction on a castle and he hopes it will be done in half a year's time. Apart from that, nothing good. We've already lost five men and women."

"How?" Otto demanded, slamming his hand onto the table with a loud bang, jostling papers and causing the young wolves to jump with surprised yelps. The news weighed heavily on his heart.

"Hunting accidents, m'lord. We lost a fellow in the mountains after he was ambushed by a pack of hyaenodons. Another woman got her skull kicked in by an elk. We also lost three survivors from trying to corner a sabertooth tiger."

Otto raised an eyebrow. "Trying to corner a sabertooth tiger," he repeated. "What on the Island would make you do such a desperate thing?"

"We hoped to tame it, m'lord. We shot the monster full of tranq arrows but the stubborn thing refused to go down. It tore apart three of our own and got away."

Otto shook his head and sighed. "Tell Joseph to be more careful. I know these accidents happen all the time but there are measures we can take to prevent them."

The messenger nodded. "I was getting to that. Lord Joseph is requesting more armour and tools for his men. We don't have any talented blacksmiths at the Lookout Hill to repair our tools when they break. We're in desperate need of fresh supplies. Swords, pikes, axes, helmets, breastplates, whatever you can spare."

"It shall be done," Otto replied without hesitation. He produced an inventory list from his desk and skimmed over the document. "We have plenty of weapons to spare but we're short on armour. There's only a handful of breastplates left and less than a dozen helmets."

Otto paused, turning the situation over in his head. It was always hard to find the perfect balance that satisfy everyone. That was one of the many challenges that stemmed from being a leader. Otto finally made up his mind. "Take all the armour. You need it more than us."

The messenger smiled. "Thank you, m'lord. You have the gratitude of everybody at the Lookout Hill."

Otto managed a thin smile but he wondered if he was making the right choice. Sending all the Den's armour to the Lookout Hill would leave his own men less equipped. Either way, the decision was already settled. "Send my regards to Joseph when you see him again." Otto turned to his squire. "Jon, take this man to the armoury. Let him choose whatever tools he needs and arrange for a caravan to escort him back to the Lookout Hill."

"Yes, my lord," the boy replied.

"After you're finished, run to Maron and ask him to create a fresh batch of equipment. Swords, pikes, helmets and the whole lot."

Jon bowed and escorted the messenger out of the room. When they were gone, Otto turned back to the paperwork on his desk. He dipped his quill in ink and began crossing items off his lists, removing all the armour from his inventories. He produced an identical list for the supplies at the Lookout Hill and scrawled all the lost equipment onto that paper. Jon had returned by the time Otto was finished reorganizing his lists. The boy knelt as soon as he entered the room, ignoring the antics of the direwolves as they tried to goad him into playing with them.

"Enough of that, lad," Otto ordered. "You don't need to scrape your knees bloody every time you enter my room."

"Apologies, my lord."

Otto was about to protest but thought better of it. If he was to be the leader of his tribe, he would have to get used to his new title eventually. Instead, he swallowed his sigh and turned back to the boy. "I need to speak with a few of my survivors. Go fetch Hadrian, Bryan, Selyse and Vance."

"At once, my lord."

Jon bowed and ran off immediately, slamming the door shut behind him. Otto watched the boy go, a faint smile on his lips. Jon was a dutiful squire, there was no doubt about that. Otto had been reluctant to take him on at first, but he found himself growing less apprehensive with every passing day. Jon attacked his work with vigour that not many other survivors possesed. The boy was always trying his hardest to succeed, no matter the size of the task that Otto assigned him. Whether it was running errands or relaying commands, the squire always sought perfection. Otto admired that trait, especially in a boy as young as Jon. He was only fourteen years old but he would grow up to become an extraordinary man.

Jon has been the first child that Otto rescued off the beaches. Unfortunately, he was not the last. The Island was unmerciful and subjugated adults and children alike to hell. It was already bad enough to find the empty corpses of adult humans, but it was almost unbearable to see a child's lifeless corpse. Otto had seen his share of dead bodies but the children always haunted him the most. There was something unsettling about the way they sprawled on the ground like limp ragdolls, their small hands outstretched in death. Whenever Otto rescued a child from the wilderness, he did not know whether to be happy or frightened. It always put him at ease to know that another young castaway would be safe behind his walls but Otto knew it would not stay that way forever. He would never be able to protect all the survivors under his command; the Island was simply too dangerous to keep everyone safe. Sooner or later, tragedy would strike his people and he was not prepared for that time to come.

Apart from Jon, there were currently two other children at the base. Otto closed his eyes and tried to remember them. One boy had taken an interest to animals so he was helping Clarisse as her stablehand. Another girl had wanted to help treat the sick and wounded so she was acting as Willam's apprentice. Otto rubbed his temples, trying to recall their names but they escaped his mind. He grunted and retrieved a scroll from his wooden drawer. The parchment was only a few weeks old but its fringes were already as worn as some ancient manuscript. Otto set the scroll on his desk and spread it out, then cursed when the paper rolled itself back into a scroll. He unfurled the parchment again and slammed a paperweight down on the corner before it could retreat. Otto skimmed through a list of thirty-seven names, his finger brushing the soft yellow scroll as his eyes darted around. As the lord of Wolf's Den, he felt a certain obligation to remember everyone's names. It was the least Otto could do for the new arrivals. He kept lists in his office to help him keep track of all the people under his protection, since he frequently forgot their names. Otto even had a list for the forty-nine survivors at the Lookout Hill, since Joseph kept him updated on all the new men and women arriving at his base.

"Aha," Otto mused to himself when he found what he was looking for. The three juvenile wolves in the corner flashed him strange looks but returned to their antics a moment later.

"Zach and Myra. The stablehand and the healer's apprentice. Zach and Myra," Otto recited to himself, trying to commit their names to memory. He sighed again.

There were many things expected of him as a leader, far too much for him to handle on his own. He had never asked for the position but it had been forced upon him anyway. Otto had been the most experienced out of everyone in the original band, which included Joseph and Willam. He had taken command of the group to ensure their survival but now that they were relatively safe, he wondered if there was someone better for his job. Otto did not mind leading people. In fact, he enjoyed protecting all the survivors who looked up to him for safety. However, what really bothered Otto was all the responsibilities that pressed down upon him like a mountain, threatening to suffocate him under its weight. There were some days when Otto wanted to do away with it all; strike off on his own, with only his wolves at his side.

"Zach and Myra," he muttered again, searing the names into his mind. "A boy of sixteen and a girl of fifteen. The stablehand and the healer's apprentice. Zach and Myra. . ."

"Is everything alright, my lord?" A voice called from the other side of the door. Otto recognized Hadrian's voice.

"I'm perfectly fine," Otto called back. "Please come in, Hadrian."

A middle-aged man with a tousled mane of chestnut hair entered the room and closed the door behind him. Hadrian smelled of earth and forest, mud and pine. Otto guessed that he had just returned from the wilderness. Hadrian was the head forager at the Wolf's Den and he constantly scoured the area for edible plants and shrubs. The man was exceptional at his job and always managed to return home carrying sacks filled to the brim with foraged goods. Hadrian bowed low. "You asked for me, Lord Weiss?"

"Aye," Otto nodded. He motioned for the forager to rise and got straight to the point. "We're running out of food at the Wolf's Den."

Hadrian did not seem surprised. "I told the steward as much. If my lord commands, I can stock our larders to the brim. All I need is a few more men and women."

Otto shook his head. "We don't need more foragers. That might keep us fed for a few more months but what will happen when winter comes and the wilderness freezes over? No, what we really need is a steady source of food."

Hadrian nodded as he followed along. "What are you suggesting, my lord?"

"Look here," Otto pointed to a map sprawled out on his desk. He brushed his finger over the Wolf's Den and traced a path northward, past the Lookout Hill, past the mountains until his finger rested on the coast. "The sea is an untapped food source that we would do well to make use of. I've already sent a few scouts and they found a suitable cove, sheltered from the elements and bountiful with marine life."

Otto paused, studying Hadrian's reaction as he puzzled over the map. "Marine life. . . aye, that would do well to feed our people. I know how to fish, my lord, though I'm afraid my skills are better suited to the woods than the sea."

"You do yourself no justice, Hadrian. I've seen your harvests and you never fail to return with trout or salmon."

"Those are all river fish, my lord. Spearing them is easy enough, but saltwater fish are an entirely different matter. I know how to bait and cast a line but that's about all. I might as well dive into the sea and catch them with my hands. It would yield better results than my skills with a rod."

"Practice then," Otto suggested. "You're the best forager we have. I need a man of your skills on the coast, otherwise we might all starve when winter comes."

Hadrian mulled over the situation for a while longer. Otto remembered a similar conversation he had had with Daven, a few weeks prior. It was never an easy decision to send someone off to some foreign outpost, far from everything they had ever known. Daven had looked as if he were on the verge of tears when Otto sent him to the Lookout Hill. Now, Otto braced himself for a similar reaction. He expected Hadrian to curse him, refuse him or storm off. Instead, the forager only smiled. "Hell, why not. I'll do it. I've always wanted to live by the ocean, get a taste of the salt breeze."

Otto returned Hadrian's smile, relieved. "Perfect. You'll set out in a few days, with wagons to carry your supplies and rangers to guard them. I'm giving you command of ten survivors from here, talented men and women who have experience living by the sea. You'll be joined by another fifteen from the Lookout Hill."

Hadrian nodded. "What of the creatures, my lord? We'll need animals to help establish a base."

"That'll be a problem," Otto mused aloud. "You'll have mounts to carry your items but none of my wolves are willing to travel that far. The pack will stay with their alpha, and Winter's staying right here."

Hadrian frowned. "With all due respect my lord, twenty five men and women won't be enough to defend a base properly. Especially when the coast is that far from the Wolf's Den."

"I know it'll be a problem but you'll have to rely on your survivors. Train your men and women to fight well. I'll send whatever remains of our arms and armour with your caravan." Otto paused, glancing at the juvenile wolves playing in his room. His eyes suddenly lit up when an idea came to his mind. "I just remembered. Clarisse's hyaenodons whelped a few days ago. The two bitches have fifteen cubs between themselves. Take a few of them and raise the hyaenodons yourself. They'll be helpless at first, but in a few months you'll have ferocious guardians defending your outpost."

"As my lord commands. By your leave, I'll take some narcotics as well. They'll be useful for taming creatures of my own."

"Take everything you need. I'll send Jon around the base to inform all the survivors I've picked out." Otto rolled up the map on his desk and pressed it into Hadrian's hands. "Use this to find your way to the coast. You'll leave in a few days"

The forager nodded and bowed deeply. "I'm honoured to serve under your command."

Otto smiled. "Thank you for your cooperation, Hadrian. I'm glad to have a man of your talents. Now go get some rest."

"And yourself, lord Otto."

Hadrian took his leave and Otto was left alone with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. While he was waiting for Jon to return with all the other survivors he had requested, Otto rummaged through his desk for more maps. He produced three identical copies, each painstakingly recreated by Willam's steady hand. The only difference between the maps was the tiny mark that squatted on each of their respective coasts. All three maps had a different marking, each located at a strategic point. Otto had very carefully selected locations along the coast to erect way castles, which would provide safety and shelter for his weary rangers. The checkpoints would grant his patrols some much-needed reprieve from the wilderness and offer a safe home in the event that night fell before the rangers could return to the Wolf's Den.

The way castles would be located roughly half a day's ride apart. None of them had been built yet but Otto intended to assign that task to three separate commanders. Unlike the flimsy wooden shelters that dotted the coastline, these buildings would be made of sturdy stone brick. Apart from acting as checkpoints, the way castles themselves would become shelters for new castaways. Otto hoped his plans would be enough to protect his people. The beaches were not only dangerous for the new castaways but for his own rangers as well.

A bitter memory burbled into his mind, unbidden. Otto had been patrolling the coast with a small group of rangers two days prior. Otto himself had been mounted on Daciana, a newly-forged steel sword sheathed to his hips and a heavy oak shield slung over his back. He was accompanied by two fresh recruits, Petyr and Arnold, neither of them older than twenty. The beardless youths rode megaloceros bucks and were armed with dented axes that they had borrowed from the armory. A more seasoned ranger, Vance, brought up the rear seated atop his wooly rhinoceros. The veteran carried only a shortsword; his massive rhinoceros already had two steel-tipped lances strapped to either side of its saddle. A pair of grey direwolves loped along the beach beside them, mid-ranking members of Winter's pack that frequently accompanied Otto whenever he patrolled the beach. They were good cautious beasts, smarter than most of the other wolves Otto had come to know. He always watched the grey direwolves for signs of danger, trusting their instincts more than his own judgement.

The day had been relatively uneventful and they had failed to discover any castaways after visiting six different shelters. They were travelling along a grassy windswept plateau on their way home when one of the direwolves suddenly stopped, its dark eyes fixated on the horizon. The other wolf hesitated for a moment before creeping forward, sniffing the air. Both of the beasts stood erectly, facing the jungle as if the darkness harboured hundreds of hidden foes. Otto held out his hand and signalled for the group to stop. "Something's in the forest."

His men formed a loose semi-circle behind him, their hands clutching the hilts of their weapons. Their wide eyes flicked nervously around, from the jungle to the wolves and back to the darkness again. Vance rode up beside Otto and lowered his voice so the skittish new recruits could not hear. "What's the matter, m'lord?"

Otto closed his eyes for a few seconds, deep in concentration. He could discern noises in the distance, but the dense thicket of jungle trees made it difficult to hear anything clearly. Otto tried to harness the power of the direwolves that accompanied him, but their bonds were too weak, and the Wolf Lord's senses only wavered very slightly. For the merest fraction of a second, he was able to pick up a human voice. It sounded like a scream.

Otto's eyes flared open and he gripped Daciana's reigns. "There's people in the forest and they're not alone. Come, there's no time to spare."

Otto did not wait for his men to reply but simply pressed his heels into his mount's flanks. Daciana plunged down the hill and galloped for the jungle, straight as an arrow. The sound of her hoofbeats drumming against the earth was quickly joined by the others as they followed. The very ground trembled when Vance's wooly rhinoceros vaulted itself down the beach. Otto did not trouble himself with a backwards glance to verify that his rangers were following closely behind. He already had complete faith in his men.

The rumble of hoofbeats against the beach was swallowed up instantly when the group entered the jungle. Otto found the world eerily silent; the rich black humus beneath Daciana's hooves seemed to absorb all the noise from his party until there was nothing left except the spectral melody of mother nature. Phantom birds rose through the canopy, shrilling and shrieking, yet nowhere to be seen. Strange rumbling calls echoed through the vast forest, ringing off ancient trees and lichen-covered rocks. Otto brought Daciana to a stop beside a small stream, completely disoriented. He strained to hear the voices from earlier but the jungle seemed entirely devoid of mankind.

His direwolves scampered into clearing and rooted around, their snouts sifting through fallen leaves and patches of grass. One of the beasts suddenly recoiled with a menacing growl, lashing its tail. Otto whirled Daciana toward that direction and drove his mount forward. The golden doe crashed through thick green foliage and leapt around old tree stumps, no more than a blur. Otto suddenly caught a glimpse of riders ahead. For a brief moment of confusion, he thought he had somehow gotten turned around and was barreling toward his own rangers. But this was a different group, and they had a woman at their head. Otto glimpsed long golden hair, dark and shiny like spun gold. Could it be Alysanne and her patrol?

The other riders had not yet spotted Otto or his group. Instead, they seemed concentrated entirely on something else. Two of them had naked steel bared in their hands, the swords and spearheads glistening from the few rays of sunlight that managed to penetrate the gloomy jungle canopy. Before Otto had time to think further, the leader raised her weapon and kicked her mount into a full gallop, screaming some unintelligible war cry. The other two riders followed her lead, their own blades brandished in the air. Otto swivelled to see what they were charging at, but a gnarled old tree blocked his way. Vance suddenly brought his wooly rhinoceros to a halt, shouting. "My lord, look! Up ahead!"

Otto quickly maneuvered Daciana around to get a closer look at the unseen enemy. His eyes found a small hill in the jungle with two massive tyrants crouched at the top, one of them a pale orange-gold, the other a dark shade of crimson red. The monsters were gorging themselves on a fallen phiomia, freshly killed by the look of it. The crest of the hill was splotched with bright red blood, blending seamlessly into the alpha allosaurus' crimson red scales.

Otto heard the sharp rasp of steel against leather as his rangers drew their blades. "The red devil," Petyr breathed.

Otto barely managed a nod. The crimson allosaurus harboured a vicious reputation amongst his rangers. It was a brutal monster that had personally slain many fresh castaways, and even a few of Otto's own people. The red devil commanded three other bloodthirsty allosaurus, each of them fierce enough to tear an entire patrol group to shreds. However, Otto only spied two monsters in the jungle; half the pack was missing.

"My lord," Vance pointed at the charging riders. "They're wearing uniforms from the Wolf's Den. These are our own men."

The soldier's observations were correct, Otto noted with mounting horror as he watched the group charge toward the monsters. Upon closer inspection, he realized Alys was leading the attack. She waved a steel longsword above her head, shouting as she charged from the back of her doe. A man wielding an eight foot long spear followed close behind on his megaloceros buck, and a huge woman with a war-axe brought up the rear. The two allosaurus hardly seemed to notice the incoming assailants. With a lazy grunt, the red devil casually tossed its head toward its companion before bending down to continue feasting on the dead pig. The orange allosaurus was not happy to abandon its kill, but it seemed eager to draw fresh blood from the advancing humans. The monster ambled forward to meet its attackers, looming high atop the hill. It hunched forward and roared, a thunderous noise that shook the very ground and made the trees themselves tremble. Even worse, it broke the courage of the advancing party.

The charging formation quickly dissolved within feet of the allosaurus. Frightened megaloceros scattered before the monster, leaping away from its glistening maw, their huge white eyes rolling in terror. As quick as a snake, the allosaurus lunged and sunk its teeth into the hind legs of a fleeing elk. Mount and rider went down together with a terrible crunch. The woman was pinned beneath her megaloceros buck, and a bloodthirsty tyrant loomed above. The wounded megaloceros bleated in terror but its cries were silenced by the orange allosaurus. With unbelievable strength, the beast wrenched its head back and tore the elk's mangled neck into an unrecognizable pulp. Bloody ribbons of flesh rained down upon the terrified rider, who screamed and tried to grab her missing axe. The allosaurus bore down on her before her fingers could even find the weapon's handle. Within seconds, the woman was no more.

Otto shook himself free of his stupor. If he didn't act soon, Alys and the other man would quickly perish as well. No, a voice argued back. If you charge down there, your own men and wolves will die. Everyone will die. Cut your losses and run away. Otto grit his teeth. Try as he might, he couldn't simply turn away from the carnage. He had to help. The Wolf Lord unsheathed his sword and turned to his group. "To arms! Our friends are in danger!"

Without waiting for a response, Otto kicked his heels to Daciana's side and launched himself down the hill. The golden doe complied without hesitation, charging toward the conflict with reckless abandon. She vaulted over rocks and boulders, faster than the wind itself. As he plunged into the fray, Otto could not help but wonder where the other two allosaurus had gone. There were supposed to be four of them. They must surely be nearby, ready to spring this trap shut, Otto mulled to himself. Suddenly there was no time to think, and he could only act.

Otto kicked Daciana into a full gallop as he thundered up the hill, his longsword raised. The orange allosaurus was too occupied clashing with Alysanne to realize Otto was behind it. The Wolf Lord plunged his blade into the monster's vulnerable underside, twisting his arm upward at the last moment. The allosaurus screeched in pain and snapped at him, but Daciana leapt away easily. Both of Otto's direwolves pounced on the beast, driving it back, hissing and thrashing. Otto leveled his sword, steered Daciana toward the struggling fiend, and gouged its neck with a sharp upward thrust. The orange monster lurched around clumsily, screeching as blood spewed from its fresh wound. Alys finished the creature off with one fluid slash of her steel blade.

The orange allosaurus collapsed on the ground, convulsing in its death throes. Otto did not spare the monster a second glance. His attention was already focused on the red devil at the top of the hill. With a menacing snarl, the alpha allosaurus lashed its tail and snapped its jaws. A chill ran down Otto's spine when the alpha's calls were answered by two more beasts behind him. Otto swivelled around to see two forest-green allosaurus emerge from the bushes at the base of the hill, surrounding his rangers. The red devil hurled itself down the crest, while its two brethren raced up to meet it. Otto cursed aloud as his survivors were encircled by the monsters.

Otto did not recall exactly what had happened next, for everything was a red blur in his memory. However, he did remember the crunch of bone and the shrieks of his survivors. He remembered watching pure carnage unfold around him, helpless to save anyone. Men died. Women died. Wolves died. Otto's sword rose and fell but the monsters fought back ferociously until the bitter end. Then they too died. When it was all over, Otto found himself in a bloody clearing, surrounded by corpses. He still remembered the sensation of being surrounded by the dead. The feelings of shock and regret and anger that surged through his body.

Both his direwolves had perished. They were sprawled beneath an old oak tree, their bodies hideously twisted and mangled. The spearman from Alysanne's patrol was missing his head. Petyr's lifeless corpse was crushed underneath the allosaurus he had felled. Arnold lay face down in a pool of his own blood, great red ravines oozing across his ravaged back. Otto looked at them all, shock and anger toiling inside his gut. Suddenly it was too much and he could not bear to look upon them any further. They were his pack, his survivors, his family. He had failed them by bringing them into the carnage. They would never breath nor walk again. Their lives had been extinguished by a careless mistake. Otto clenched his blood-stained sword and grit his teeth. He threw his blade to the floor and sank to his knees, drowning in despair. I failed. I should have known better than to attack. But. . . but I had no choice.

He glanced up again at their lifeless corpses. I had no choice, he repeated to himself. Otto's eyes narrowed. There was movement in his peripheral vision that he had not noticed before. It was Alysanne. Otto suddenly remembered something about earlier. He racked his brain, too exhausted to recall any important details. Suddenly it hit him.

"It was your fault." he growled.

Alys did not give any indication that she heard him. She was trying to unearth something from the jungle, something buried beneath a great hairy mound. Vance's wooly rhinoceros, Otto remembered with another pang of guilt. No, it wasn't my fault. I had no choice. Alys. . . she was the one that attacked the allosaurus in the first place. She was the cause of this destruction.

Otto climbed to his feet, swaying unsteadily. He steeled himself against the corpse of an elk. "It was your fault," he shouted at her back. The Wolf Lord stormed over to where Alys was standing, smoldering with fury. He jabbed a finger at her accusatorially. "You caused this."

Alysanne swirled to glare at him, her eyes as cold as two deep blue lakes. "Say that again. To my face this time."

"You caused this. Look around and tell me what you see."

"I see dead foes that will never trouble us anymore," she retorted with an edge to her voice.

"Then you must be short of sight, as well as short of wit." Otto waved his arm at the bloodbath behind him. "Here, and here, and here lay our friends that will never see the light of day again. This was your fault!"

Alys paused whatever she was doing and stomped over to confront him. "Their sacrifices will be honoured. Their names will live forever in our memories."

"Have you considered," Otto scowled, "That they might actually have wanted to stay alive?"

Alysanne's cheeks flushed red with rage. "And have you considered that countless others might live because these brave survivors died? You might not realize it, seeing as how you spend all your time cooped away in your miserable stone cellar alone, but I patrol these beaches every single day. Those monsters slew dozens of innocent castaways. I've seen their bodies and their bones and their cold lifeless eyes. You don't realize this yet, but that allosaurus pack will never plague this coast again!"

Otto found himself lacking a reply. He opened and closed his mouth, but no words came out. Alys tossed her head defiantly and returned to her previous task. She probed around the wooly rhinoceros corpse, sifting through its shaggy fur for something buried underneath. Otto noticed a pale arm sticking out from underneath the dead rhino. Vance, he thought immediately. He joined Alys by the rhinoceros, took the carcass by the horn, and wrenched the head to the side. Vance was lying face down in the mud, but his chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. His legs were trapped underneath the five ton rhinoceros corpse, completely pinned to the bloody ground. There was no use trying to lift the dead beast. Instead, Otto kneeled on the ground and began parting the crimson mud with his hands, trying to dig Vance out from underneath his mount. Alys glowered at him for a second before joining in.

"You should never have attacked those monsters," Otto hissed as they worked.

"Pray tell me, what would you have done, mighty Lord Weiss?" Alys taunted. Damp strands of golden hair plastered her sweat-stained brow, but there was a frigid resolve behind her cold blue eyes. Alys did not glance at him at all, but Otto felt his hairs stand on end all the same.

"I would have waited, like any sensible person," Otto retorted icily. "Anything would be better than charging straight into a pack of apex predators without a second thought."

"There were only two of them at the time," Alys scowled as she scooped an armful of mud out of the way. "I saw a chance and I took it. That's more than can be said for you."

Otto grabbed a rock and pried it out of the earth. He chucked the stone behind him and continued excavating furiously. "You should have realized the entire pack would be there. Perhaps if you had a thimble of sense, you would have realized it was an ambush."

Alys glowered at him. "Ambush or not, at least I'm not afraid to take action against my enemies. I didn't realize how much of a craven you've become."

Otto paused, his hands clenching and unclenching. That was too close to the truth. After becoming the leader of his tribe, he had certainly taken more precautions to ensure the safety of his people. When it came to making decisions, Otto found himself taking the less risky option more often than not. "Say what you will about my cowardice. At least I consider the safety of my followers before blindly plunging into bloodbaths. Everything I do is to protect the people of this tribe."

"You think I don't care about my fellow survivors?" Alys shovelled one final clump of mud away and grabbed Vance by the arm.

"I never doubted your integrity," Otto scowled as he grabbed Vance's other limb. They pulled the injured man out together. "What I'm truly concerned about is your rash, reckless, impulsive behaviour." He emphasized each word as they struggled to haul the unconscious ranger out from beneath his mount.

"So that's the way you see me," Alys laughed to herself bitterly as they finally pulled Vance free. Venom dripped from her tone, and her eyes were dark with anger.

"Alys, I didn't mean to offend you," Otto conceded carefully. "I was just saying—"

"—Save it for later," she snapped. "You've changed. I still remember the first time we met. I thought you were fearless, as wild and unpredictable as your wolves. But it turns out you have the heart of some cowardly old woman."

Otto's eyes flashed with anger. "I've had it with you! First you get all these men and women killed, then you refuse to take responsibility for your actions, and now you insult me."

"Oh? Are your feelings hurt that easily?" Alys sneered. "You're nothing but an arrogant, oversensitive prick!"

"And you have absolutely no regard or consideration for others!"

Alysanne unceremoniously dumped Vance onto the floor. "That's enough. I'm done here."

Otto was so engulfed in rage that he could not muster another comeback. Instead, he watched her storm off to the edge of the clearing where her doe awaited. Alys swung onto her mount and disappeared into the undergrowth without a backward glance.

Otto kicked a rock with all his strength, fuming with anger. "Damn her! Damn that vile woman," he seethed to himself. Otto was about to punch the nearest tree, when a groan caught his attention. Vance was still unconscious, but he had taken some heavy wounds from the fight. Dark red blood was slowly oozing from cuts on his chest and arms. Otto cursed and ripped some fabric from his sleeves to bandage the man's injuries.

It took him a few minutes of stumbling around the clearing, but he finally managed to salvage whatever he could. Fortunately, Daciana had survived the battle, having run away to hide in the nearby forest. Otto called her back, heaped Vance onto her saddle, and rode home to the Wolf's Den. He barely remembered the trip, only the dark thoughts that swarmed around his head like a flock of crows. He was still distraught over the deaths of his tribemates and his wolves, but anger predominated over all. Alys had incited his ire.

A sharp rasp on the door interrupted Otto's foul mood. The three direwolf juveniles barked and yelped at the intrusive sound. A faint smile tugged at Otto's lips, despite the storm of emotions that swirled throughout his body. "Enter," he called out.

Selyse came in first, a tall serious woman who was well-acquainted with the beaches around the coast. Although she was no fighter, Otto had chosen Selyse for her impeccable geographical knowledge. She would be an invaluable asset to his plans. What his tribe desperately needed was a skilled navigator who could guide newcomers to safety. Selyse gave a curt bow and seated herself near the desk. All three wolflings padded over to sniff at her, but she paid them no heed.

Next entered Bryan, a gaunt grizzled trapper, who supported an injured Vance against his shoulder. The two men hobbled over to their respective chairs, while the direwolves lapped at their heels. Otto greeted each of the survivors in turn as they took their seats.

"Apologies, m'lord," Vance said as he eased himself into his chair, wincing. "My legs don't bend well, else I'd kneel."

"You have no cause to apologize, Vance. How are your injuries healing?"

"Slowly," he sighed. "Ever so slowly. Willam says I'll be as good as new in three months"

"I'm glad to hear that," Otto graced the veteran with a smile. He turned to address the others gathered in his solar. "Thank you all for arriving on such short notice. You might be wondering why I asked you to come. Here, have a look."

Otto straightened the three maps on his desk and handed the survivors their own copies. They analyzed the maps as Otto talked. "The eastern coast is growing more dangerous with every passing day. Our rangers are encountering more wildlife every time they patrol the beaches. I'm sure you've all noticed this as well."

Bryan the trapper nodded, Vance winced from his recent injuries, and a thoughtful look flashed across Selyse's face. "The seasons are turning m'lord. Fall is almost upon us. Animals born in the spring are likely coming into maturity and claiming territory of their own."

"Aye, so it might be," Otto reflected. "Either way, the coast is no place for fresh castaways. Our rangers have returned with countless tales; a grey tyrannosaurus who dominates the tip of a peninsula, a vicious pack of raptors that roams the jungle, groups of carnotaurus, allosaurus, megalosaurus and many other predators. The list just goes on."

Otto vaguely waved his hand over the southern forests of the Island. "Not to mention the rumours I've heard about all the hostile tribes in this area. The dangers and hazards of this Island have claimed hundreds of innocent lives. Our efforts, valiant as they are, simply cannot keep up with these demands."

"I'm not sure where you're going with this." Bryan crossed his arms. "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting we double our efforts," Otto pointed to the dots he had scrawled onto each of their maps. "Starting with outposts that we'll build along the coast."

The three survivors exchanged glances, looking doubtful. Otto continued before they could interrupt. "Our rangers needs secure places to stop and rest during their patrols. More than once, groups have gotten lost in the wilderness and trapped outside the safety of the Den after nightfall. We cannot afford to jeopardize the safety of our rangers. These outposts will provide warm places, where they can restock their supplies and rest for the night. The waycastles will also serve as beacons of safety for new castaways. I know that our current wooden shelters are flimsy and easily destroyed. These new outposts will be built of solid stone, and each of them will house a small but permanent garrison."

Bryan and Vance nodded thoughtfully. Selys, ever observant, was the first to ask questions. "So where do the three of us fit into your plans? Are we to command these castles?"

"Aye," Otto looked at each of the survivors in turn. "I need strong leaders to make the coast a safer place. You all have skills that qualify you for this position. Selyse, you're quick to pick up small details and you have a keen sense of direction. Bryan, you have experience trapping creatures in the wilderness and living off the land. Vance, you're a veteran ranger and you know these beaches better than most."

They were beginning to see his logic Otto noted to himself. He continued. "All three of you are talented and resourceful individuals. I have complete faith in your ability to handle this job. Should you choose to accept, I'll provide each of you with tools and survivors to command. I cannot spare more than a handful of men and women, but I trust you'll be able to make do with what you have."

Vance was the first to speak up. "I'll do it, my lord. I know the dangers of this Island all too well. . . The new castaways will need our help if they're to survive."

"Aye, me as well," Bryan said. "Give me command of good men and tools. I'll take care of the rest."

"Count me in," Selyse straightened in her chair. "I look forward to serving under my lord's command."

The reaction was better than Otto could have hoped for. He smiled and clasped his hands together. "Thank you all for your cooperation. I'll send Jon around the base to collect everything you need. You'll each be given command of three survivors and one elk. Use your resources wisely, send riders to deliver messages, and stay in constant communication with one another. Your outposts will be located half a day's ride apart. If anything goes wrong, the Wolf's Den will be too far away to respond immediately so you'll need to rely on each other."

All three survivors nodded. Sensing that the meeting was about to end, they rolled up their respective maps and prepared to leave. "Best of luck to your endeavours," Otto rose and shook each survivor's hand. "You'll all leave in a few days, with the necessary tools and supplies. Have a safe journey and send a messenger when you arrive."

Bryan, Selyse and Vance all said their thanks and left his solar, leaving Otto alone with his wolves again. He regarded the juveniles wistfully, envious of their carefree lives. Otto sighed and returned to his desk, where a stack of papers awaited. He spent the next hour attacking the pile, crossing names off parchments, reorganizing supplies, and creating three new lists for the way castles. When Otto had enough of the dull paperwork, he pushed his chair back, gathered his cloak and left the solar. All three wolflings followed at his heels, panting eagerly. They bolted into the courtyard as soon as Otto opened his door the slightest fraction, surprising a pair of women who flinched and hurried away to complete their tasks.

Otto stretched his cramped limbs as he stepped outside his cell, closing the door behind him. He stood beneath a gloomy stone archway. The first floor of the castle is coming along nicely, Otto remarked to himself. It would still be a few weeks before the first floor was complete, as progress had slowed down considerably after Otto sent one of their two ankylosauruses to the Lookout Den. Stones were being gathered at a much slower rate, but the castle was gradually rising from the ground nonetheless.

Otto followed his wolves into the courtyard to get some fresh air after hours of being cramped in his gloomy cave. His ears rang to the sound of steel on steel, as survivors fenced with dull practice swords in the yard. The late afternoon sun cast a golden sheen onto their blades. Jon was already seated on the floor, watching the combatants with vivid fascination in his eyes. The boy was so preoccupied that he hardly noticed Otto and his wolves approaching until the three juveniles scampered up behind him and began licking his face. Jon laughed, pushing the direwolves off his chest. He quickly arose when he noticed Otto watching.

"My lord," Jon brushed the dust off his clothes. "Apologies, I did not realize you were here."

Otto waved him away with a smile. "No need to apologize, Jon. I wasn't expecting you to wait outside my chamber all day. Boys like you need to get outside and smell the fresh air."

"Thank you, my lord. I won't abandon my duties again."

"Enough with that nonsense," Otto insisted. "If I find my duties boring, then I can't imagine what it must be like for you, sitting outside my room when you should be exploring or playing with other children your age."

"I'm fourteen, almost a grown man," Jon reminded him. "I don't mind serving you. It's really no bother at all. Besides, the other children have their own duties." He scrunched his nose. "Zach's the stablehand and he tends the animals, but they don't do anything exciting and the entire barn smells like shit. Pardon the language, my lord. I hardly see the healer's assistant, Myra, except for when you send me to deliver messages to Willam. And besides, she's a girl. . ."

"What's wrong with girls?" Otto prodded with a grin.

"They're annoying," the squire answered immediately. "They always tease me and get on my nerves. I'd rather get mauled by a direbear than deal with their nonsense."

Otto chuckled to himself. "It's really that bad, huh?"

"There's so many better things to do around the Den," Jon said. "Like this, for instance. I could watch them fight for days on end, and you would never hear me complain."

"That's where I think we can both agree," Otto conceded. "There's truly something beautiful about the way experts fight. The way their steel flashes, and the way their bodies twist and turn. . ." Otto lapsed back into silence as the combatants pummelled each other back and forth across the yard. He stood beside Jon, and they watched the action from the sidelines together. A few minor duels were happening in the corner, but the largest fight was in the very centre. It seemed to be three against one, yet neither side was at a clear disadvantage.

Alexander, Martin, and Rodrick circled around the courtyard wearily, all three of their blades pointed toward an individual standing in the centre. The master-at-arms of the Wolf's Den wielded a sword in either hand, easily shifting the two blades as he adjusted his stance. Leo was a graceful sandy-haired warrior, light on his feet and quick with any weapon to grace his hands. He was proficient with spears, axes, pikes and bows, but his true talent was with swords. Leo often wielded two blades whenever he sparred, one in either hand, using them interchangeably to attack and defend. The knight always fought against three or four enemies at a time, since he claimed real war was never fair. He could slice through a horde of attackers as easily as carving through butter. Leo's skill at arms reflected years of intense conditioning, excellent footwork, and refined coordination that required an inhuman level of focus. He was such a skilled swordsman that upon seeing him fight for the first time, Otto had immediately promoted him to master-at-arms of the Wolf's Den. Leo was in charge of training new survivors how to fight, and so far his lessons seemed to have remarkable results.

Alexander, a skilled fighter himself, motioned for his teammates to get ready. The three men surrounded Leo and yet all of them kept their distance, carefully backpedalling to avoid being within striking distance of the knight's twin swords. Martin circled around behind Leo, prowling low to the ground, while Alexander and Rodrick approached from Leo's flanks. The master-at-arms pivoted slowly, his dual blades raised at an angle. Leo's eyes darted back and forth, carefully analyzing his opponents' movements. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, the knight had once told Otto. Look for that link and strike it down with all your strength.

"Now!" Alex roared. The three men converged on their target at once, their steel flashing. Leo was faster than all three put together. He twirled around and leapt to meet Martin, quick as lightning. Leo's twin blades gleamed like orange sparks as they flashed down, one after the other, a relentless storm of swords. Martin, although he never disgraced himself in the courtyard, was only an average fighter on a good day. Today was evidently not one of those days. Martin's parry was clumsy and slow. Leo easily slammed it aside and rang his blade against Martin's helmet, once, twice, thrice before twisting away. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. Martin stumbled backward, his wooden shield raised to protect his bruised face. Leo went low, slashed at his enemy's heels, and body slammed Martin to the ground when he lost his balance, easily removing an opponent from the fight. The knight was already turning to meet his other assailants before Martin even hit the dirt.

Alexander and Rodrick were both skilled fighters, certainly more talented than their defeated companion had been. They worked in unison to drive Leo back, alternating their slashes and parries to wear the master-at-arms down through attrition. Leo wasn't having any of it. He parried with enough strength to send Rodrick's pike flying to the side, then slammed his other sword into Alexander's dented wooden shield. Rodrick ran to retrieve his weapon, leaving Alex alone with Leo. The master-at-arms was relentless. His blades crashed down again and again, faster than Otto could keep track of. Alexander was forced to give ground, only a few steps at first, but then more and more until he was jogging backwards to avoid Leo's wrath. Wooden chips flew in every direction from Alexander's shield, until the leather bands holding it together finally snapped and the ruined wooden pulp sloughed away to the ground.

Rodrick was back by then. He pounced, plunging his steel pike into Leo's exposed back. All the practice equipment in the Den was blunted, as to avoid fatal injuries, yet even then the blow must have hurt like hell. Leo cursed in pain, but pivoted in time to block Rodrick's second pike thrust before it could take him in the thigh. The master-at-arms slowed down after that, if only by a fraction. Leo panted heavily, adjusting his grip on his twin blades as his attackers circled around him. Alexander nodded at his teammate, then they lunged together in unison. Leo was ready this time. As quick as a snake, he dropped one of his swords to the ground, turned around, grabbed Alexander by the wrist and pulled him into a headlock. The two men grappled for a second before Leo, the bulkier of the two, overpowered his smaller foe and slammed him right into Rodrick's pike. Alexander grunted in pain and writhed to escape but Leo's grip was too strong. The master-at-arms used the smaller man as a meat shield to take the brunt of Rodrick's pike thrusts.

"Yield," Alexander shouted. "I yield!"

Leo dropped his bruised opponent to the dusty courtyard floor. Alexander quickly scurried away as the remaining two combatants squared off with one another. Leo had lost one of his swords during the scuffle, but Otto knew from personal experience that he was just as deadly with a single blade. Rodrick still held his seven foot-long pike, giving him a clear reach advantage. Unfortunately, pikes were ill-suited for single combat, as they were long and cumbersome to maneuver with. A large formation of pikemen standing shoulder to shoulder would have been absolutely devastating in any other situation, but a single pikeman on his own could not hope to accomplish much. However, Rodrick was no ordinary pikeman. He was extremely talented with his weapon of choice, wielding his pike as easily as another man might handle a dagger. Rodrick could shift his grip around to be useful in any situation, whether it meant holding a distant opponent at bay, or intense close combat. Just now he wielded the pike by the middle, anticipating his opponent to charge at him.

Leo obliged without hesitation. A good offense is the best defense, he often told Otto. Sometimes you're lucky enough to catch your opponent by surprise. If not, it's better to decide the course of the battle than to stand around idly, waiting for you opponent to dictate your fate. Leo leapt the last few feet, his blade gleaming orange in the light of dusk. Rodrick twisted his pike up to block the strike, and then both weapons were locked together in a tangle of steel. Leo and Rodrick pulled apart and started trading blows, furious side-hand slashes and overhead strikes that sent sparks flying into the cold afternoon air. The sound of steel on steel rang like thunder as the two combatants pushed back and forth, trying to gain the upper hand. Leo and Rodrick were almost evenly matched, though it was clear that Leo had a slight advantage. He twisted and twirled, his blade everywhere at once; parrying a pike thrust, feinting at Rodrick's head, probing his flanks, and slashing at his chest. To his credit, Rodrick held his ground, returning every attack with a counterattack, and forcing Leo to put his full effort behind every blow.

Rodrick was normally a very care-free person; as a matter of fact, he was so lax that Otto had initially mistaken him for being lazy. However, after getting to know the man a little better, Otto realized that Rodrick was one of the hardest workers at the Den. Whenever Rodrick set his mind to something, he could easily accomplish a task where others might fail. Rodrick simply did not believe in wasting effort where it was not necessary. He conserved his strength for important tasks, and gave his full effort when confronted with trials and tribulations. Just now, Rodrick was pouring his full concentration into the battle yet it was still not enough. Leo was simply too skilled of a swordsman to be deterred. Slowly but surely, Rodrick was being backed into a corner by the vicious master-at-arms.

Something changed about Rodrick's demeanour when he retreated another step and realized his back was pressed against the rough spruce logs of a cabin. Rodrick narrowed his eyes, then vaulted forward in a desperate final gambit to defeat his opponent. He thrust his pike forward with all his might, but Leo danced away at the last second. The master-at-arms released a fearsome war cry and counterattacked with the last of his strength, bringing his sword down in a savage arc. Rodrick had over-committed to his attack and could not pull back fast enough to parry the blow. Leo's blade took him in the padded leather breastplate with a fearsome crack! Rodrick stumbled to the ground, his pike flying from his hands. When he tried to rise again, he found Leo's blade levelled against his throat.

"I yield," Rodrick coughed.

Leo took his sword away with a smirk, offering a hand for his defeated opponent to take. "Well fought, Rodrick. You almost had me this time."

"Congratulations on your victory, sir," Rodrick bantered back easily as Leo pulled him to his feet. "I'll get you next time."

"Our blades shall decide if there's any truth to your words. Are you ready for another round?"

"Perhaps another day. I'll give my bruises some time to heal," Rodrick replied. He seemed to notice Otto standing at the side for the first time. "My lord." Rodrick knelt on the ground, as did Leo and Martin. Alexander simply sneered and gave Otto a mocking half-bow.

"Rise, all of you," Otto said with exasperation. He was quickly growing tired of all their formalities. "Don't let me get in the way of your practice. I'd very much enjoy watching another fight."

Rodrick pressed a hand to his breastplate, where Leo had struck him, and quickly took it away wincing. "I've had enough for today, my lord. Leo's gotten the best of me. . . again." He sighed and stripped his leather practice equipment off.

Something seemed to be tugging at Rodrick's mind, for his expression changed a few seconds later. "You there, boy!" he nodded at Jon. "You've been watching us for some time now. Would you like to learn how to fight?"

Jon seemed surprised to have been noticed. "If it's not too much trouble, sir." Jon hid it well, but Otto could see the excitement in his eyes.

"Then put on some armour and grab a sword. I'm sure they have one your size," Rodrick waved at the armory offhandedly. "I'm a little sore, but I could teach you a thing or two. Just promise to go easy, eh?"

Jon could hardly contain his excitement. He almost bolted straight to the armory but remembered himself in time. "By your leave, my lord," he said to Otto.

"Go on lad, I won't stop you."

Jon's face broke into a wide grin and he hastily ran to grab his equipment. Otto watched him go, a faint smile on his lips. He turned to Rodrick. "Thank you for offering your time, kind sir. He's been fascinated with sword fighting for as long as I can remember."

"It's no trouble, my lord." Rodrick grinned back. "Besides, it should be a nice change of pace compared to fighting Leo."

"You're just sorry you lost," Leo retorted with a smile. He polished his twin swords against his breeches and stood up, looking around the courtyard. "Would anyone else like to try again?"

Alexander stepped forward with his sword in hand. "Actually, I'd like to try my luck against our mighty leader."

He's out for revenge, Otto thought. He had punished Alexander a few weeks ago, after the entire fist-fight incident with Daven. Alex's resentment had been simmering ever since the situation and he seemed eager to fight. If he wants vengeance, then he'll have his chance. I'll not have it be said that I backed away from this man's challenge. "If it's a duel you want, then you shall have it," Otto replied.

Leo seemed disappointed that all his opponents were finding other things to do. He turned to Martin hopefully. "I guess it's just you and me."

Martin's sword instantly clattered to the courtyard floor and he backed away with his hands held high. His leather armour was still askew, and his wooden shield was dented from Leo's vicious blows. "Not me, sir. I'm done for today."

"As you say," Leo said with resignation. "I'll just watch the other fights and point out your mistakes. That should be a challenge in itself."

Otto armored himself quickly and grabbed a practice blade that matched his height and reach. He ran his fingers over the edge, so dull and rough that it could only scratch at best. None of the practice weapons were sharp enough to draw blood, but they still hurt all the same. Otto sheathed the sword to his belt and borrowed a wooden shield that was hanging off the wall. He strapped it to his left arm and exited the armory. Otto found Alexander waiting for him in the courtyard, an arrogant smirk on his face. Rodrick was teaching Jon the basics in the corner while Leo watched on. Martin had left the yard altogether, leaving Otto alone with his challenger.

"Ready when you are," Alexander called.

"Then let it begin," Otto growled.

He launched himself at his opponent, releasing all his pent-up stress in his first swing. Alexander easily twisted away and slammed his own blade into Otto's exposed flank. The Wolf Lord cursed and took a defensive stance. Too hasty, he admonished himself. Alexander charged at him, swinging his sword ferociously. Otto took the first few blows on his shield and parried the others. He was not a great sword fighter, but he was certainly stronger than average. Unfortunately Alexander was better. The other man persisted relentlessly, slamming Otto repeatedly with his blade and dancing out of reach whenever the Wolf Lord counterattacked. Otto had no choice but to stay on the defensive, his shield held high and his sword raised protectively.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Weiss?" Leo shouted from the side. "Attack for heaven's sake!"

Otto bulled forward, his wooden shield raised before him. Alexander barely hesitated before rushing to meet him, his own shield extended. They met in the middle, amidst a flurry of blows and slashes. Otto managed to land a hit on his opponent before being struck himself. He backed away, but Leo swept his foot and caught Otto's leg. The Wolf Lord went down hard, slamming into the ground like a sack of flour. A steel sword rested against his neck when he tried to stand up.

"It's over. You win," Otto relinquished.

Alexander smirked. "Of course I did. On your feet, my lord. We're not finished yet."

They fought again and again, but Otto could never seem to break his opponent's defense. Whenever he tried to attack, Alexander would simply absorb the blows on his shield or parry them away as easily as swatting flies. By the time Otto had lost his third round, he noticed someone watching from the side. Alys, damn her. What's she doing here? The blonde stood beside Leo, watching the fight with an amused expression on her face. She rolled her eyes when Otto looked at her.

He was suddenly filled with rage all over again. The thought of her reckless behaviour just a few days prior brought a bitter taste to the back of his throat. Otto thought of all the men and women who had perished in the jungle due to Alysanne's rash decision. He had done his best to avoid the woman when they returned to the Wolf's Den, but it was inevitable that they would meet again in such a small base. Otto just hadn't thought it would be so soon, or that she would willingly seek him out. What's she doing here anyhow? Why is she watching me fight?

Otto did not have time to dwell on the question for more than a few seconds, because Alexander was suddenly attacking him again. Otto used his fury to cleave a path forward, swinging and slashing and hacking. Unfortunately Alexander was prepared. He easily sidestepped the vicious barrage of attacks and retaliated with his own volley. Otto took the brunt of the assault on his shield, but a few blows took him in the flanks and legs. He was forced to give up step after step, until Alexander suddenly finished the spectacle by body slamming Otto to the ground.

The Wolf Lord spit out mud and blood as he lurched to his feet. Alexander grinned at him, and he could hear Alys laughing from the side. That bloody she-devil. She's only here to watch me suffer. Otto cast a venomous glare in Alysanne's direction, and she returned it with a mocking smile. Otto withered a little on the inside. There's bad blood in this courtyard, he realized. First Alexander, now Alys. They both hate my guts. Poison in the yard, and poison in my heart! Damn them both to hell!

Otto surged to his feet, taking Alex by surprise. He lashed out with his blade and made contact with his opponent's shoulder. The strike was accompanied by a satisfying curse. Otto risked a glance at Alys in time to see her smile. You bloody fool, he berated himself. It doesn't matter who wins this fight. She hates both of us. Still, Otto could not help but wonder who she despised more; Alexander or himself. A sharp rap on his shield jolted him from his thoughts, and Otto leapt to counterattack, swinging his blade in a sideways arc. Alex parried it aside and jabbed him in the chest with all his strength.

Otto stumbled backward, coughing from the blow. He glanced at Alys to check for her reaction but she didn't seem to notice at all. She was too preoccupied sharing some secret joke with Leo, both of them laughing from whatever Alys had said. Otto was so distracted watching them that he forgot about Alex entirely. His opponent took advantage of Otto's distraction and pummeled him against a cabin, knocking all the breath from his lungs. Alexander slammed into him again and pinned him against the wall, jamming his shield into Otto's throat. The Wolf Lord tried to claw his way free but with little success. He was rapidly tiring from all the combat, and his limbs were growing weaker by the second. He choked out, calling for Alexander to stop, but no words left his mouth. Yield! Otto tried to say, but his airways were constricted and nothing escaped save for a strained cough. He might suffocate me to death, Otto thought wearily as darkness began to dance around the tinges of his vision. Help! He wanted to scream at Leo, or Alys, or Jon, or any bystanders in the courtyard. His lungs felt as if they were in danger of exploding, and his head was beating like a wardrum. Otto tried one last time to push Alexander off, but he was too exhausted to even lift his arms, and his efforts were futile.

He was just about to give in when some untapped source of strength coursed through his body, flooding through his veins like a tidal wave. Otto shoved Alexander away with enough force to send the man sprawling on the ground. Otto collapsed forward on his hands and knees, gasping for air. All the exhaustion from earlier seemed to completely disappear as he rubbed his chafed throat. Winter, he thought at once. Thank the Island, that great loyal wolf has saved my life again. Otto found his footing again, with renewed strength surging through his body. He glanced at the sky to see it was slowly turning a ripe orange color. Almost evening. Winter must be returning from his hunt.

Whenever the direwolf was near, Otto felt all his senses enhanced; his sight, his smell, his hearing, his speed and most noticeably his strength. That useful ability had helped him more than once during hunts, but Otto had never thought it would save his life. He twirled his sword into a ready stance as Alexander regained his footing, ready for another round. The other man charged and this time Otto made no move to stop him. Alex's sword came flashing down as fast as lightning, but Otto avoided it with miles to spare. He savoured the shocked expression on his opponent's face before slamming his sword into Alexander's leg. When his opponent's blade rose to block his own, Otto struck the steel with enough force to send it flying halfway across the yard. Alexander raised his hands to surrender but Otto pummelled him in the chest for good measure, sending him sprawling on his ass.

A smile broke across the Wolf Lord's face as he admired his first victory of the day. Alexander was still groaning from the force of the impact, rubbing the back of his head sullenly. Otto glanced around the courtyard to see whether anyone had witnessed his victory, but nobody seemed to have noticed. Alys and Leo were completely gone, while Jon and Rodrick were practicing against straw mannequins near the armory. Nobody else was paying attention to the fight. Otto glanced down at his defeated opponent. He was about to offer the man a hand, when a deep horn bellowed out from one of the watchtowers, shaking the entire Den.

A pair of guards jogged to open the southern gate but nobody else paid the horn any heed. After all, dozens of patrols left and returned from the base every day. Most survivors had learned to ignore the call, and simply continued on with their business as usual. Otto, on the other hand, always paid close attention to the comings and goings of his survivors. He was almost always the first to know when something was horribly amiss. The Wolf Lord listened for a second blast, but none came. That's rare, Otto thought to himself. One blast meant new survivors. Two blasts meant rangers returning. It was not every day that survivors found their way to the Wolf's Den on their own. He left his practice sword on the courtyard floor and jogged to the gate. Otto always strived to be the first one to welcome new survivors to his base. He felt a certain obligation as the leader of his tribe to welcome every new face with open arms.

The southern gate groaned open after a fair deal of struggling and cursing from the two guards who strained to pull its doors wide apart. A group of four survivors hobbled inside, leaning against one another for support. Winter padded in behind them and nuzzled against Otto happily. He scratched the direwolf behind the ears but his attention was focused on the ragged group limping into his base. They were led by a beautiful woman with long chestnut hair and dark brown eyes. She was shorter than Otto, but her stature commanded respect and attention. She supported an injured man on her shoulder, delirious from the angry red wound that ran from his shoulder to his abdomen. They were followed by another man and woman, both of whom seemed entirely exhausted from their journey. The second woman had short golden hair and dark bags under her eyes, while the man was bruised and bandaged.

"You there!" the first woman shouted at Otto. "Fetch your leader and be quick about it!"

Otto was puzzled for a second, then he glanced down at what he was wearing and realized what they must have seen; a sweaty dust-covered man wearing mismatched leather armor that fit him very poorly. Otto opened his mouth to reply, but one of the guardsmen spoke for him. "You must be mistaken, lady. That is our leader."

"Otto Weiss," The Wolf Lord said by way of greeting.

"I don't care what your bloody name is!" the woman fumed. "Are you blind? We have sick and wounded with us. They need medical attention immediately."

Otto nodded at the guard who had spoken earlier. "Tell Willam to prepare a few beds in his house."

The man nodded and ran to the other side of the compound, while Otto moved to lend support to the wounded man. As they hobbled to the other side of the Wolf's Den, other survivors noticed the commotion and ran to help. Fortunately someone remembered to bring a stretcher and half a dozen survivors carried the wounded man to the healer's hut together. Otto was the first inside the doors. He directed the stretcher over to a soft hay bed that Willam had prepared. The bandaged man was still strong enough to walk, and he seated himself on another cot adjacent to his gravely wounded companion. Willam immediately began mixing tonics in the corner, while his assistant Myra ran around fetching herbs. Otto cleared everyone else out of the room to give the healers some much-needed space. He gently shut the wooden door behind him and covered the windows with blinds.

When all the commotion was over, most of the survivors dispersed around the base, finishing last-minute jobs before night fell upon them. The sun was a bright orange orb in the distance, and it was slowly dipping down toward the horizon. Otto was leaving to help set up the nightly bonfire when he noticed the two new women lingering by the healer's house. Neither of them were injured but they seemed very concerned for their grievously-wounded male companions. Otto made his way over to where they were standing, Winter trailing behind him like a white shadow, and himself being followed by the three direwolf juveniles.

"They'll be alright," Otto called out hesitantly. "Willam's the best healer we have."

The dark-haired woman turned to look at him, but all her anger from earlier was gone. Instead it was replaced by something else. Concern? Sadness? Regret? She played with her hair nervously. "At this point, I don't think it matters how good your healer is. Sam - he's the one with the huge scar running down his chest - I doubt he'll make it through the night."

"Don't dwell on that. I know it seems hard, but please, thinking about it won't make things better."

The woman nodded at his words, but she looked down and didn't say anything. Instead she twirled her dark brown hair around, twisting and spinning it like a loom. Otto watched the way her fingers wove around, the graceful way they worked in unison to make knots and then undo them just as easily. It was her friend that spoke up, the one with the short blonde hair and hazel eyes. "You're the leader of this group? That's what the guard said, back at the gate."

Otto sighed. "And so I am. There's nothing special about me. Being the leader just means I have to stay inside my prison cell and look at maps until my eyes bleed out."

The blonde woman giggled but her dark-haired companion did not seem to hear the joke. Her eyes were still transfixed on the distance, thoughtfully still. "Don't worry about Jeyne, she's just stressed out from our journey," the blonde said. "I'm Lori by the way."

"Well Lori, it's a pleasure to formally make your acquaintance. I'm Otto."

Lori beamed back at him happily, but something about Jeyne's attitude changed. She suddenly looked up at Otto, as if making some connection in her head. "You said your name is Otto. You're the Wolf Lord."

Otto groaned at his nickname. It's worse than I thought. These two just got here, and they already call me the Wolf Lord. "Unfortunately, yes. Tell me, where did you hear that name?"

"We met a woman while travelling along a river. She claimed to have visited your base for a few nights before leaving. She told us there was settlement down here, a safe haven protected by a hundred wolves and ruled by a man named Otto, though everyone called him the Wolf Lord."

"Well," Otto said rubbing the back of his head. "As you can see, I don't have quite that many wolves."

"I can see that," Jeyne laughed. It pleased Otto to know that one of his jests had finally worked, that he had taken this woman's mind off whatever was troubling her, if only for an instant. Jeyne's rich brown eyes gleamed and her cheeks tugged upward, making Otto himself happy. He had never thought of joy as a disease, yet it was troubling how contagious this woman's happiness was.

"Sorry if I was harsh earlier," Jeyne said, rubbing her arm subconsciously. "It's just that I was a little. . ."

"Overwhelmed?" Otto finished for her.

"Overwhelmed," Jeyne agreed. "Your name's Otto, right?"

"For the third time, yes," Otto smiled.

"Sorry. There's a lot on my mind," she extended her hand in a friendly gesture. "I'm Jeyne,"

"It's an honour to meet you, Jeyne," Otto said as he shook her hand.

"I already told him your name," Lori whispered without much discretion.

"Oh?" Jeyne looked surprised. "When did that happen?"

The blonde-haired woman burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggling, but Jeyne remained completely serious. She looked to Otto for help, but he only shrugged with a faint smile. "It's true. I don't think you were paying attention."

Jeyne smiled apologetically. "As I said, there's—"

"—a lot on your mind, I know," Otto finished. "Maybe I can do something to help. Would you two like a tour of the base? I usually let new survivors settle themselves into a cabin before showing them around. Perhaps you could do that instead, it makes no matter."

"A tour of the base would be nice," Lori said. "Jeyne, what do you think?"

"Yes," she said. And then again: "Yes, that sounds nice. I would like to see your base. I've heard many good things about it."

"Come this way then," Otto waved them along. Winter and the wolflings followed at his heels. "We'll start with the stables, since it's right next to the healer's house."

Otto led them to the huge wooden building and pulled the double doors open. One of the juvenile direwolves immediately darted through the crack before Otto even had a chance to stop it. The wolf's disappearance into the building was quickly accompanied by an explosive volley of snarls and barks. That can't be good, Otto thought. He followed the young wolf into the barn.

Shadow was being cornered by three huge hyaenodons. The juvenile direwolf, far from his adult size, was still much smaller than the other canines. The hyaenodons jeered and taunted the lone youngling, snapping and snarling to drive him into the corner. Otto tried to place himself between the opposing sides but to no avail. One of the hyaenodons lunged forward and grabbed Shadow by the cuff of his neck. The black direwolf fought back ferociously, and the two beasts rolled together on the floor. All of a sudden, Shadow's two sisters showed up to even the odds, diving into the fray to help their cornered brother. Even all three of the juvenile wolves working together was no match for a trio of fully grown hyaenodon. The speckled canines fought with a savage fury, driving the smaller wolves away. The confrontation was about to get deadly. Otto hollered at the top of his lungs and waved his hands to separate the combatants but they completely ignored him.

Winter suddenly swept into the barn, filling the wooden building with a cacophony of thunderous barks and snarls. The struggling hyaenodons and direwolves immediately stopped fighting. Winter pounced directly into the center of the conflict, scattering the hyaenodons who scampered away with their tails tucked between their legs. All three of them together could never hope to take down Winter, who stood as tall as Otto himself and must have weighed at least three hundred pounds, nearly all of it muscle. The alpha direwolf snarled low in his throat, and the hyaenodons retreated to the other end of the barn, as far as the wooden walls would allow them. Otto smiled and stroked his direwolf's rough white fur. "Thanks for the rescue, old friend. Take the younglings outside please. We don't want another bloodbath in here."

The white direwolf bowed his head and flicked his tail, motioning for the three juveniles to fall into line. The younglings obeyed hesitantly, but not before flashing dark looks at the hyaenodons at the other end of the stables. Winter left the building with all three of his young charges in tow. Otto watched them leave, a feeling of dread coiling in his gut. His direwolves did not get along with the three hyaenodons who lived in the stables with Clarisse. Whenever wolves encountered hyaenodons in the wild, bloodshed was inevitable. The same seemed to be true inside the Wolf's Den. Although the hyaenodons had been living with Clarisse for a few months, Otto harbored doubts that any of them were truly tame. The same could be said for his direwolves. Although they had lived alongside humans for months, none of them were completely accustomed to the strange two-legged creatures who shared their territory. Only Winter and a few of his friendlier packmates were fully tolerant of humans.

As such, it was no surprise that scuffles would erupt whenever the two groups of canines clashed. Otto was fortunate that none of the creatures had been harmed in the recent skirmish. Had more direwolves been present, nothing would have prevented them from tearing the hyaenodon trio to shreds. Likewise, if there had been more hyaenodons inside the stables, Otto would have expected casualties from the wolves. He was especially concerned now that the spotted canines had whelped. The hyaenodons were currently taking care of newborn cubs, which would only make them more territorial and defensive. Otto hoped the stablemaster had everything under control. He spotted Clarisse in the corner of the barn, sitting on a pile of hay. She hardly seemed to have noticed the recent conflict.

"Is everything alright?" Jeyne asked with concern as she entered the barn. She paused when she saw the hyaenodons hunched over at the other end of the building.

"Things seemed to have calmed down for now," Otto admitted. "But I'd be careful around those hyaenodons if I were you."

Lori had just entered the stables, but one look at the spotted canines sent her scrambling for the door. "I'll wait outside if that's alright with you two," she said hurriedly.

"We'll only be a few minutes at most," Otto told the woman as she left. He turned to Jeyne. "If you don't feel comfortable, you can leave as well."

"No, no, I'll be fine," she said. "Don't worry about me. I've dealt with worse before."

Otto nodded and showed her around the stables, keeping one eye on the hyaenodons at all times. The barn had recently been renovated to quadruple the amount of animals it could hold. As with everything else, Otto kept lists of all the inhabitants of the barn so he had a good idea of how much space was currently taken up. The entire left side of the stables was dedicated to housing megaloceros, the most common mount at the Wolf's Den. Thirteen pens held the giant elk but four were currently empty because their inhabitants were out patrolling the coast. Otto patted Daciana on the neck when he passed her pen and the golden doe licked his fingers happily. The Wolf Lord gave Jeyne a carrot from a nearby treat bin, and she fed the megaloceros nervously. Daciana, gentle as always, took the carrot from her fingers nimbly and crunched it up in three bites. A smile flashed across Jeyne's face as the orange treat disappeared. The right side of the stables hosted an assortment of strange creatures that came in all shapes and sizes. Two massive wooly rhinoceros were housed near the entrance, snorting and stamping impatiently from all the commotion. Further ahead, there was an ankylosaurus napping in the corner of its pen, a pair of equus grazing on grains, and three female sheep that all shared the same enclosure. A male ram was housed adjacent to that pen, snorting and waving its horns about when Otto and Jeyne passed. Further ahead, a baby chalicotherium mulled about, throwing bales of hay around its pen.

"Where did you find all these creatures?" Jeyne asked, smiling as she watched the infant play.

"Here, there and everywhere," Otto replied, returning her smile. "It's been a while since I've helped our rangers tame animals, but we usually find them within a few hours of the Den."

Jeyne nodded, reaching out to brush the baby chalicotherium. The little ball of fur nuzzled against her outstretched hand, lapping at it with a rough pink tongue. Jeyne laughed, scratching the chalicotherium behind the ears. "He's absolutely adorable."

"He won't be so cute when he grows older," Otto said, thinking of the lumbering behemoths that he had seen in the wild. A fully grown chalicotherium could stand taller than an adult human and weigh close to two thousand pounds. Otto did not know where his rangers had found this baby, but it only seemed a few months old at the most.

"You sure have a lot of animals," Jeyne said absentmindedly as she coddled the youngster.

"Not enough, I fear," Otto sighed. "We lose creatures all the time. It's hard to replace them, since it takes a tremendous amount of effort to trap them and months to train them."

"They must be very useful," Jeyne mused aloud. "I wish my group had tamed some creatures, but we didn't even know it was possible until a few days ago. Perhaps then, everyone might still be alive and well. . ."

"It's extremely difficult," Otto assured her. "Don't feel too bad about it, taming animals takes lots of practice."

"But you seem to be a natural at it," Jeyne turned to him. "You have dozens of wolves, and all these other animals here."

"Befriending Winter was a stroke of luck. I don't think any of this would've been possible without him."

"Winter? He's the large white one, right?"

"The alpha of the pack and my oldest friend," Otto confirmed.

"He saved our lives," Jeyne said. "We would never have made it here without Winter. Thank him for me, if you will. It's said that you can talk to your wolves."

"That, my friend, would be yet another rumour," Otto teased. "But I'll let Winter know. How did he save you anyway, if I may ask?"

Jeyne was silent for a few seconds, her eyes transfixed on the wall. Her hands clenched and unclenched. "We were attacked by a sabertooth tiger while crossing a river. Kevan and Sam fought it off, but the monster took its toll. Kevan lost two fingers and Sam took a huge gash to the chest. The scent of blood must have attracted other wild predators because soon after the sabertooth attack, we were being stalked by all sorts of monsters. I thought Winter was one of those beasts. I thought we were all dead when his pack surrounded us, but instead Winter guided us to your base and protected us the whole way. We would never have made it here without his help."

"Ah," Otto said. "Winter has a habit of doing that. He's saved my life more times than I can count."

"How did you meet him anyhow?" Jeyne asked, a little more cheerful than before.

"On the beach, when I first washed ashore. He dragged me out of the sun and into the shade. After that, he didn't really trust me until I saved his life. But after that, he's repaid whatever debt he owed me a hundred times over."

"It must be nice to have such a noble beast as your companion." Jeyne said wistfully. "Are the wolves your only protectors?"

"What do you mean?" Otto inquired.

"Well, everything in this barn seems herbivorous to me. I was wondering if you have any more predators, apart from the wolves and hyenas."

Otto shook his head. "Carnivores are extremely difficult to tame. They don't listen to orders the same way herbivores do, and they remain wild even after months of training. The only other predator we have is Argentum. I don't think you've seen him yet. He's a tyrannosaurus that Willam raised from infancy."

Jeyne gaped at him in shock. "You're kidding, right? I've heard those monsters are the deadliest things on the Island."

"They might be," Otto said evasively. "But Argentum is friendly enough, once you earn his trust. We could wait for him outside if you'd like to meet him."

"Perhaps another time then. I think I've had enough trouble for today." Jeyne glanced at the other end of the stables. "You mentioned the hyaenodon just gave birth to a new litter?"

"Both females whelped, aye," Otto confirmed with dawning suspicion.

"Would it be possible for us to see the cubs?"

Otto groaned. He had hoped it would not come to this, yet he was willing to do whatever it took to keep Jeyne happy. There was something inexplicably satisfying about the way she smiled and the way her rich brown eyes sparkled when she laughed. Besides, Jeyne seemed to enjoy meeting the infant animals. It was the least Otto could do to keep her mind off the injured survivors. "As you wish, my lady. Come this way and we'll see if the mothers let us near their cubs"

Clarisse and her new stablehand, Zach, were lounging at the other end of the barn, grooming the hyaenodon. The savage creatures seemed to trust the two humans, certainly more than they had ever trusted Otto. The deep rumbling growls that emerged from the hyaenodons' throats as the humans brushed their fur might even be considered affectionate. Zach stood up when he noticed Otto and Jeyne approaching. Clarisse remained seated, silent as ever.

"My lord," the boy bowed. "Have you come to see the cubs?"

"That's what we're here for," Otto replied, eyeing the hyaenodon mothers nervously. One of them bared her teeth at him. Otto's followers might call him the Wolf Lord, but nobody had ever called him the hyaenodon lord. He got a strange feeling in his gut whenever he was around the spotted canines. It was almost as if he was predisposed to despise the savage creatures, and they, in turn, despised him.

"I'd be careful around the mothers if I were you," Zach continued. "They're naturally distrustful of strangers."

"I can see that," Otto muttered, his hand resting near his sword. He positioned himself between Jeyne and the trio of adult hyaenodon, ready to defend her at a moment's notice. The beasts growled at him but backed away after a few seconds.

Otto ushered his visitor forward, and they slowly crept to the corner where the cubs were being held. Clarise and Zach had converted one of the pens into a makeshift den, with bales of hay stacked to form a small cave and animal skins draped over alcove. Zach crawled inside the den to retrieve an armful of cubs, blind hairless creatures that squealed and writhed in his arms. Nobody would ever call a baby hyaenodon cute, but they weren't terribly hard to look upon either. Otto took one of the cubs from the stablehand and examine it carefully before passing it to Jeyne. Her eyes immediately lit up when she cupped the infant in her hands. Jeyne coddled and cooed the small creature, as if she were interacting with a human baby. Otto smiled at the sight. Jeyne was able to find beauty where others could not. He admired that trait in such a forlorn world, where kindness and compassion were hard to come upon.

"How old are they?" Jeyne asked.

In truth, Otto had no clue. Every day, he found himself growing more out of touch with everything that happened in the Den. Instead, it was Zach the sixteen year old stablehand that answered. "The one you're holding is from Alpha's litter. Her cubs are eight days old."

"How about this one?" Otto gestured toward the cub he had just picked up.

"That one would be from Beta's bunch. Her cubs are five days old."

Jeyne giggled as the little cub licked her fingers. "Is there any reason the mothers gave birth so close to each other?"

"It's easier for them to take care of their cubs if they're around the same age," the boy replied.

"How many are there," Jeyne asked.

"There's fifteen cubs. Nine from Alpha, six from Beta."

At the mention of their respective names, the hyaenodon mothers perked up. Otto accidentally caught their eyes, and the creatures immediately snarled at him. He quickly handed the cub back to Zach and backed away. Otto stood behind Jeyne protectively, watching the adult hyaenodons prowl around. They were starting to get impatient. Otto could tell they wanted to drive him away from their children, but the sword strapped to his belt was stopping them. "Jeyne," he whispered urgently. "Let's go. We can come back later when they're in a better mood."

The brown-haired woman reluctantly gave the cub back to Zach, but not before kissing its bald head. She smiled and waved goodbye to the blind creature before following Otto out of the stables. The Wolf Lord kept glancing back to the corner, making sure the hyaenodons weren't following them out. He finally breathed a sigh of relief when the stable doors were firmly shut behind them. By then, the night was fast approaching. Only a few orange slivers of sun peeked over the horizon, and the bonfire had already been lit.

The pleasant smile on Jeyne's lips quickly melted away when she realized Lori was nowhere to be seen. Her happiness gave way to panic as she scanned the base, looking everywhere. "Where's Lori? Damn it! I never should've left her alone!"

Otto put a hand on her shoulder and pointed to a cabin beside the campfire, where Lori was laughing with a group of survivors. "She's not alone. Winter's with her."

The huge white direwolf was sitting in the corner, watching Lori out of the corner of his eye while he kept his other eye on the juveniles scampering around the base. Otto chuckled at the sight of his loyal friend dividing his attention between the two tasks. Jeyne did not seem to find the situation amusing.

"Thank the Island for your wolf. Sometimes I just don't know what to do with Lori," she confessed.

"She's just getting to know some of the other men and women at the Den," Otto reassured her.

Jeyne sighed, twirling her hair. "She's always way too eager to make new friends. I've tried warning her that not everyone is as kind as her. There's evil people everywhere yet she can only see the good in others."

"Don't worry on that account. There aren't any unsavoury characters at the Den, or I would have kicked them out a long time ago. Besides, seeing the good in others isn't such a bad thing, is it?"

"Trusting others can get you killed. Always think of everyone as your enemy. That's what I've learned. It's kept my group safe."

Otto turned to look at Jeyne. "You trusted me though, didn't you? Why else would you have risked your lives to come here?"

"That's different," Jeyne replied offhandedly. "You're different. I can just feel it. I've only heard good stories about the Wolf Lord, and you seem like an honest and honourable man to me. I don't know how to explain it, but I just felt in my gut that venturing all this way to meet you was the right thing to do."

"Well I'm glad you decided to come," Otto smiled. "It's been an honour to meet you, Jeyne. You have a large heart. It's not very often that I find someone who cares about her friends as much as you."

"Sometimes I care too much. That's the problem. It clouds my judgement and forces me to make rash decisions." Jeyne sighed as she watched Lori introduce herself to another cluster of survivors. She turned back to Otto. "When Kevan and Sam got injured by that sabertooth, I wanted to return to our old home immediately but the others kept me going. Deep down, I knew that we would never make it back the way we came, but I wanted to try anyway because I couldn't bear to watch my friends suffer. I'm just glad that we finally made it to the Den."

"Choices are. . . hard. Especially when the lives of your friends and family are at stake. I know that all too well," Otto winced. "Sometimes I don't always make the best choices and that haunts me forever. But the past is the past, and there's nothing I can change."

Jeyne was quiet for a long time. She played with her hair silently, a dark look on her face. Otto saw a storm of emotions flash through, before she finally made up her mind and decided to share whatever was bothering her. "Did I make the right choice?"

Otto waited for Jeyne to continue, but she only stared into the distance, the faintest hint of tears shining in her eyes. Otto prodded her on carefully, "Which choice?"

"The choice to come here. I. . ." her hands clenched and unclenched. "I knew it would be risky. We. . . we lived so far away from the Den. . . I knew there would be dangers, but I never expected them to be this bad." Jeyne untangled a clump of her mahogany hair, and wiped the tears from her eyes furiously. "They're dead because of me. . . I killed them. . ." She looked down at her hands, as if she expected them to be stained with blood. "I killed Kevan and Sam. They're dead because of the decisions I made."

Jeyne didn't bother to hide her tears anymore. They streaked down her pretty face, the droplets collecting on the tip of her chin and trembling around as her chest shuddered with sobs. Otto reached for her hesitantly, putting a hand on her back to comfort her. He was taken by surprise when Jeyne flung herself into his chest, burying her tears into his shirt. Otto was unsure of what to do at first, but he let his instincts take over. He slowly wrapped his arms around the distressed woman. It felt like the right thing to do. Otto embraced Jeyne carefully, afraid to make the tiniest mistake that might send her running away from him. The brunette seemed to calm down when she was safely tucked inside his arms. Otto held Jeyne close to his heart, letting their warmth mingle, letting his body reassure Jeyne where his words could not. He felt something deep inside his chest. He felt serene and peaceful for the first time in months. All his worries, all his stress sloughed away. With his arms safely wrapped around Jeyne, Otto felt as if he could finally protect someone from the horrors of the Island. He instinctively knew that his body was a better shield than the harsh stone walls that sprouted up all around the Den. Those walls might protect his survivors from physical threats, but only his arms could protect Jeyne from the unseen horrors that circled around her mind.

Otto finally let go of Jeyne when her sobs died down and she was still again. He looked into her eyes reassuringly, letting his own eyes convey the message that nothing would ever harm her as long as he was there. Jeyne's mouth gave the faintest twist upward, and Otto returned her smile with his own. "It wasn't your fault," he said at last. "Nobody should ever hold you accountable for the horrors of this Island, not even yourself."

Jeyne nodded but did not look convinced. "I. . . I just don't know if I'm fit to lead anybody. . . My choices only caused suffering for others."

"Your choices caused joy and happiness as well. Your friends are safe now. You secured their futures by bringing them here."

"I just. . . It's hard. It's really hard to believe that," Jeyne muttered, wiping her tears away. "I need to be strong for them but I can't even hold myself together. I'm not fit to be their friend. I'm just not strong enough."

"Don't ever say that about yourself. Your tears are a sign of strength. It means you truly care about others. You have kindness and compassion and an innate sense of empathy that's rarely found in such a forsaken world. Besides, you should never be afraid to seek help from others. Nobody can endure this Island alone."

Jeyne shook her head. "You can. You're the solid rock that holds this whole place together. People rely on you for help, and you never fail to meet their expectations."

"You couldn't be more wrong," Otto smiled sadly. "I'm not the pillar of strength you think I am. I've made my own share of mistakes. I'm plagued by my own demons. My choices have caused death and destruction. I've almost lost track of how many lives my mistakes have cost, but you can easily find out if you care to count the tombstones in the graveyard."

"But you've saved so many more people," Jeyne insisted. She waved her arms around the base. "All these people, all these creatures, they're all safe because of you." She wiped another tear away. "And me. . . I can't even protect three friends properly."

Otto sighed and looked Jeyne in the eyes. "My successes are built on blood. The only reason this place exists is because I've learned from mistakes in the past. . . mistakes that cost the lives of my friends." Otto took a deep breath. I shouldn't be telling her about this. Even Daven and Alys don't know. I've never told anyone about this except for Joseph and Willam, but they were with me when it happened. Yet in spite of himself, Otto found himself growing more convicted. There was something about Jeyne that made it easy for Otto to share his story, something that made him want to tell his story. He made up his mind. She deserves to know.

"Even the strongest of us started from nothing. Back in my earliest days, I was the leader of a small tribe not unlike your own. Winter, Joseph, and Willam are still alive. . . but not everyone was so fortunate." Otto stopped for a moment. The memory flooded back to him, bitter and unbidden. Shadows in the night. Screams. Shrieks. Flames. Smoke. Death. Otto took a shaky breath and continued. "I should have seen the signs coming. I should have known our camp wasn't safe, yet I ignored all the warnings and our base was completely destroyed. . . The night demons attacked and . . . and . . . murdered two of our own, Hawk and Sarah. Everyone else. . . everyone else was wounded. I feared Winter, my oldest and closest friend, would not survive. . . The journey north nearly killed us all, yet here we stand." Otto took Jeyne's hand and pressed it into a fist. "Success isn't possible without failure. Learn from your mistakes and conquer your fears. Only then can you truly move on."

Jeyne looked at her fist, as if seeing it for the first time. Otto could see his words were finally having an effect. Jeyne's expression shifted as she turned his advice over in her head. Finally she raised her head and met his eyes. "Thank you for everything you've done today. The tour and the baby animals and the advice. All of it. I know we just met but I'm really glad you're here," she finished with a smile.

"I'm glad you came," Otto replied with his own smile. He just realized that he had spent the last few hours free of his stress and anxiety. For at least one evening, he had been able to relax and forget about his duties. I even forgot about that whole situation with Alys, Otto reflected with wonder. I don't feel as angry anymore. The sparring session in the afternoon barely helped at all. But this. . . spending time with Jeyne was just what I really needed. "You have no idea how helpful you've been."

They headed down to the bonfire together. Almost the entire population of the Den had shown up tonight, except for the healers and their injured wards. Even Clarisse was in the corner, poking around a table heaped with salads, vegetables, and forest greens. There were two other wooden trestle tables, these ones carrying a wide assortment of goods; roasted mammoth haunches coated in peppers and spices, fried venison, smoked river trout, salmon glazed in honey, poached dodo eggs, buttered brown mushrooms, wheels of goat cheese, fresh loaves of bread, and great pots of beef stew. Someone had even rolled a barrel of ale onto the table and poked a hole in the keg, Otto saw. A few survivors were already drunk. He smiled at the celebrations and turned to Jeyne, who was staring at all the food in shock. "Please excuse me. I need to make a few announcements."

"Well, don't let me hold you up," Jeyne said smiling. "Myself, I need to try some of this food. I never knew anything could smell this good."

Otto made his way to a felled tree stump. Winter emerged from behind a throng of survivors and trailed behind him like a great white shadow, earning more than a few fearful looks. Survivors parted before Otto as he climbed onto the stump and cleared his throat. Only the nearest men and women noticed him, but they quieted their neighbours and soon enough the entire crowd was silent.

"Before anything else, my friends, I'd like to congratulate you for another successful month. Thanks to the builders for raising our walls higher and stronger than before. Thanks to the hunters for taming new beasts and providing us with all the meat we could ever need. Thanks to the foragers for gathering fruits, vegetables, and food from the wilderness. Thanks to the rangers for keeping us safe and swelling our ranks with new friends every day. And thanks to everyone else, those of you who dedicate yourselves to the good of this tribe and the good of mankind."

A huge wave of applause and cheers followed each proclamation. Otto waited for it to die down before continuing. "As some of you may be aware, fall looms closer with every passing day. I do not know when the seasons will change. Perhaps in a month, or two, or five. It does not matter. The fortitude of this tribe will be tested in the upcoming months, and I need everyone to contribute if we are to survive. Our food supplies will start to dwindle as plants and animals become harder to find. New castaways will have an especially difficult time. Already, the coast grows more dangerous with deadly predators and the distant threat of other groups. That is why I have chosen four of our own to hold strongholds in my name. Please step forward Hadrian, Selyse, Bryan, and Vance."

The four survivors made their way through the crowd to stand before him in a row. Otto looked down upon each of them in turn. "Kneel," he ordered, unsheathing his sword. All four did as they were told. Vance's broken leg prevented him from kneeling all the way, but he bowed his head down low. Otto jumped down from his stump and paced along the length of the line, touching his blade to each of their shoulders. "In the name of the Island, I charge you to be just. I charge you to hold my lands and perform my duties where I cannot stay. I charge you to defend the innocent and shelter the poor. I charge you to be the light that leads mankind out of the darkness and into a brighter future. Rise now, as new men and women of this tribe."

A cascade of applause accompanied the chosen survivors as they rose. Otto sheathed his sword and turned to address the crowd once again. "Lord Hadrian will establish a new base by the sea, in a cove full of marine life. Ten of you shall be chosen to join him. Selyse, Bryan, and Vance shall each be given a way-castle along the coast, to garrison and maintain. Nine of you will accompany them, split into three groups of three." He paused, allowing the news to sink in. "Enjoy your meals tonight, as many of you will begin a new chapter of your life in the next few days. Later tonight, we'll have a ceremony to celebrate the lives of those who have fallen this month. For those of you who wish to attend, meet me by the graveyard in an hour's time. That's all."

He stepped down from the stump amidst a storm of approval. Otto hated being the center of attention but he smiled and laughed with those who came up to thank him afterward. It was already bad enough with the bonfire roaring in the center of the clearing, but the crowd of survivors only made him hotter and sweatier. Otto slipped away from the throng as soon as he got the chance. Winter and the juvenile direwolves followed him into the corner, where it was a little cooler and quieter. Otto found Jon, Rodrick, Lori, and Jeyne talking and enjoying their meals together. The sight of their food reminded him of how hungry he was. Otto grabbed a wooden trencher and piled it high with some of his favorites before returning to the corner, where he spent the rest of his time talking and laughing with his friends. Somewhere along the way, Otto took a cup of ale and found himself extremely dizzy. He was still trying to steady himself from the liquor when Myra appeared at his side with a strange look on her face. That sobered him up quickly. Otto already knew he was not going to like the news.

"What is it?" he asked the girl.

Myra glanced around to make sure no one else was listening. "It's the two injured men," she whispered in a hushed tone. "I don't know if this is the best time to tell you."

"Go ahead," Otto said.

"Kevan is recovering well, but Sam. . . We tried everything we could but his wounds were too much. He's gone."

Otto blinked. He had been expecting the man to die, but the news was a shock all the same. He mulled over the situation, uncertain of what to do. "Thank you for trying your best, Myra," he finally said to the healer's apprentice. "If I know Willam at all, he'll stay beside Kevan, labouring at his medicine all night. Bring some food back for him, will you? And enjoy the celebration yourself."

"Thank you, my lord." The girl bowed and disappeared into the crowd.

Otto watched her go, his hand resting on Winter's head. The Wolf Lord turned and called his squire over when she was gone. "Jon, listen carefully. One of the injured men passed away. I need you to find the gravedigger and tell him to dig another hole. Be quick about it too."

"Yes, my lord. It shall be done." He ran away immediately afterward.

Otto Weiss scanned the crowd and found Jeyne sitting on a bench with Lori. He steeled himself for his next task, which would be the hardest of all. Otto made his way over to where the two women were sitting, his wolves loping ahead to greet them. Lori shied away, but Jeyne laughed and reached down to scratch the juveniles behind their ears. She even let Winter lick her arm. Otto was hesitant to disturb their happiness. Unfortunately, Jeyne spotted him standing off to the side and waved him over. "Enjoying the meal, Otto?"

"The food is good," Otto commented halfheartedly. "Listen, I need to tell you something."

Jeyne could probably sense something was wrong from his tone. The laughter in her eyes died down a little. "What is it?"

"It's Sam. I don't know how to put this gently. He's dead."

Jeyne took the news in silently, her face expressionless for a moment. Then she turned around without a word and retreated from the bonfire, into the darkness alone. Otto watched her leave, powerless to do anything. He turned to Lori to see her reaction. The blonde-haired woman did not seem surprised, but a tear clung to the corner of her eye. She was watching Jeyne leave. "Go follow her," she urged.

"Me?" Otto asked, incredulous.

"Yes, you. Can't you see she needs to be comforted?"

"For heaven's sake Lori, I just met her. You've known her much longer. You would be much better at this than me."

"I've seen the way Jeyne acts around you. She trusts you. You can comfort her."

Otto sighed. "I'll try my best." He turned to his wolf. "Winter, come. I'll need your help."

The direwolf found Jeyne easily, huddled beneath a tree by herself. Otto approached warily. Winter followed at a respectful distance. Jeyne did not look up when he approached, but she shifted over to make room for him anyway. Otto sat down beside her, and Winter laid down by their feet. He silently watched the stars climb into the sky for a few minutes before speaking. "Do you remember the lesson I learned after my camp was destroyed and two of my friends were killed?"

"Success isn't possible without failure," Jeyne mumbled.

Otto nodded, but felt like a fool when he realized Jeyne couldn't see. "Yes. Failure is the only way anyone ever improves. Nobody is perfect. Definitely not me."

"Or me." Jeyne sighed.

"You're putting too much blame on yourself."

"I'm not putting enough blame on myself."

"Then blame yourself all the more," Otto said. He had not meant for it to sound so harsh, but his words spoke for themselves. Jeyne froze and Otto went on, more gently this time. "What I'm trying to say is that you aren't getting anywhere by blaming yourself. Just acknowledge that you made a mistake and move on. Don't dwell on what might have happened, or what could have happened. Just focus on what you can do to improve yourself in the future, and that includes learning from your mistakes."

Jeyne looked up. She blinked a few times so her eyes could adjust to the moonlight above. "You're right," she said, hardly more than a whisper. She laughed to herself, a small sullen laugh. "Maybe for once in my life I should listen to your advice."

"That would be a nice start," Otto commented.

"I'm sorry that you've had to deal with me all day. I find it hard to listen to others and truly take their advice to heart. It's just that there's—"

"—a lot on your mind. I know," Otto finished with a sad smile. "Come with me. We're going to celebrate the lives of everyone who died this month and honour their memories. That includes Sam."

They made their way to the graveyard together, with Winter loping ahead. The three juvenile direwolves darted around their heels playfully, but for once they stayed out of trouble. Even the youngest wolves understood the sacred significance of the graveyard, where other members of their pack were buried. The woods were dark but full of life. An owl hooted in the distance. Crickets chirped in the grass. Fireflies buzzed around the clearing, illuminating the graveyard in a soft green glow. As Otto made his way up the hill, he could not help but glance at the freshly erected tombstones where the members of his patrol were buried. The two grey wolves rested beneath a dark pine tree. Petyr was buried beside a blackberry bush, and Arnold a little farther ahead. Vance's dead rhinoceros claimed a spot beside a great grey boulder, and a handful of megaloceros tombstones were scattered all over the hill. As they ascended further, Otto glanced at tribe members who had perished earlier. Apollo and two other direwolves. Winter's entire family. Hawk and Sarah. He was pleased to see that flowers had been laid on top of every single monument.

A few survivors were already gathered at the top, Jon and Lori amongst them. Otto was furious to see that Alys had not shown up, the woman who was responsible for at least half a dozen tombstones at the base of the hill. Jeyne seemed to sense his anger. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, and all of Otto's rage melted away like summer snows. They watched a small procession of survivors emerge from the northern gate of the Wolf's Den and carry Sam's body to a freshly excavated hole at the bottom of the hill. The survivors lowered Sam to the bottom and began covering his body with dirt. Jeyne stiffened up at the sight, but Otto gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and she relaxed a bit. When the survivors from the Wolf's Den were finished, they too made their way to the top of the hill and joined the small group already assembled.

There was no need for words. Instead, Otto only watched the fireflies float around the graveyard as his wolves raised their heads to the moon and howled.

Author's Note: Did I mean to write another 20k word chapter? Hell no. I thought this might be 7k at the most but it seems like life had other plans. Anyway, sorry this is overdue. As a side question - of all the newly introduced characters (yes, there were a lot, I know) who was your favorite?

haydenunstopable, sorry but I'm not doing crossovers.

Girlbook, more disputes in the group are coming. Also we'll follow up with Daven and Alys in the next chapter, so let's see if Willam's advice comes true!

Changeling Man, glad you enjoyed the new slew of chapters! Also sorry about the repetition I tend to reuse some phrases a lot.

Rocket man 099, I'm glad that you enjoyed the new name and there will of course by some diplomacy in the coming chapters.

Caleb R. Watson, thanks for the review! Happy to hear about how you would've dealt with the situation!

GuadianReaper92, thank you for the kind praise! Also, don't worry on that account as I will stick to these short time skips.

Raimon, lmao that right there is poetry. Also glad to know you enjoyed the chapters!

King Endercreeper, thank you so much for the kind praise. It really means a lot to me to know that you thoroughly enjoy this story. Aside from writing itself, the most enjoyable part of this experience is hearing feedback about the story from readers like you. I'm glad you've stuck with me pretty much since the beginning and I hope we can reach the end of this story together. . . if I ever make it that far. (My fingers are gonna fall off by the end of this)

Guest, thanks for the review! The survivor count was mentioned to be 39 in this chapter (add 3 because of Jeyne and friends). Also interactions with the other tribes will follow pretty soon!

Blueberrium, haha thanks for the review! I'm glad that you're enjoying this story and I do agree, we need more Willams in the world.

Elysium, they'll see each other next chapter, don't worry!

joshben4c, I'm glad to see that you're still following the story! Triceratops versus T-rex huh. Interesting, maybe that can be a future fight. Also thank you, I've learned my lesson and as Otto said, success isn't possible without failure.

Jordan/Jdm/Jordy (I think you're all the same person?), sorry for keeping you waiting but thanks for all the kind comments! I live in Canada btw so I think that falls under EST

guestman, eh it's fine. Realistic as possible doesn't mean super realistic. If I got close enough then I did my job.

Guest, thanks for the kind comment! And wish granted, here's an update.

Thanks for taking the time to check out my first fanfiction, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I will try my best to upload as regularly as possible. Feel free to comment, ask question or criticize my story, review is always welcome. And if you like what you saw, make sure to check out the other ARK: Survival Evolved fanfictions out there. Have a great rest of your day or night.

-DaRumpyBurr