(Set the same day as the previous chapter (which is set the day after the full moon))

If Mr. Jeffries thought his conversation with the Head was bad, he had yet to reckon with the force of Shannon's parents. At the first glance of Mr Jeffrie's troubled face at their door, the Kelly's ushered him in, hastily sitting him down at a wooden table. The conversation hadn't started very well, and after the first few introductions, it seemed to only get worse.

"Is everything all right? Shannon- what about the camp-" Lisa Kelly stuttered, her panic evident.

"Shannon and her friend Tom Okanawe -I believe you know him- ran off into the forest early this morning. Th-they ran after their friends Maddy Smith, Rhydian Morris-"

"I knew he was a bad kid." Frank said vehemently. "Why'd they run?"

Mr. Jeffries hesitated.

"We-we don't know." He took a deep breath and continued. "Jana Vilkas also went with them. The other parents have been notified, as has the Head. There will be a meeting with the Police tomorrow and they will be interviewing people connected to the students.

It's unknown exactly where the missing students are, but searches will be made-"

"Tomorrow?! That's not good enough!" Lisa said shrilly. "She's our daughter!"

"Mrs Kelly-"

Then there was an outburst of angry and frightened yelling and Mr. Jeffries barely escaped, clambering over the garden fence at the last minute and pedalling furiously away on his bicycle.


Since no-one knew where Jana Vilkas lived, Mr. Jeffries instead went to Maddy's house. The werewolf's house, he thought worriedly. The car wasn't there, and when Mr. Jeffries knocked on the door, no-one answered. He peered through the windows, checking if anyone was home. Through the lacy curtains he saw a mug of coffee splattered over the kitchen table, vases smashed on the floor.

"What the…"

They'd obviously left in a hurry. Maddy must have rung or texted them, told them about the video. Mr. Jeffries hoped so, anyway. It would just add to the confusion if the Smiths came back with their house burgled and their werewolf daughter running rampant through the woods.

He wondered if they knew what their daughter was. Probably. Maybe they were werewolves too. Oh, this was all too confusing. Werewolves weren't even supposed to exist!

Mr. Jeffries sighed, knowing that there was no point staying there while the Smith's were out. They could be hours.

Next stop- the Vaughans. Jeffries was not looking forward to this.


Less than 24 hours later, but very, very far away, a figure clutched his tangled hair, dropping to his knees.

"No!" He screamed in anguish, tears clouding his vision of the sky dotted with stars. "No!" He was uncontrollable -shaking, hysterical. The wolfbloods who had stood around him only minutes before had now left him, silent as the wind. "Why? Why?!" The animals had gone quiet, unsure what to make of this wailing figure. "No… NO! No! Please… please no…"

The Wolfblood's name was Alric. Father of Jana, the once-leader of the pack. But when he suggested another attack at Rhydian Morris, he was met with mutinous glares and snarling faces. His decisions were now greeted with hostility, outright defiance by his own pack. The ones who were supposed to look up to him. The respect others had for Alric was drained, disappeared. His position as Leader of the Pack had tumbled. He had tried to hold everyone together, but that time was long gone. He had been exiled, exiled, and he had nowhere to go…

Unless…

Several hours passed before Alric dazedly got up, tipping his head up to the moon. He uttered one last, lonely howl and then padded off between the trees, into the darkness.

He was a pack leader no more.


(The Next Day)

"Remind me why we're here again?" Jimi asked, tipping his head back to look at the ancient house with its dusty windows and mossy stones. "Looks like something out of a horror movie."

"Because they know about werewolves." Liam said. "I searched around on the web. This is where the legend of the Mottled Poppy comes from."

"The mottled what?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Poppy. When the spots appear, the wolf is near."

Jimi snorted. "What's that out of, a nursery rhyme?" he paused. "So, are we just going to stand here or are we going to go inside?"

"I rang. They should know we're here."

Liam broke off as the front door opened. An old lady stood there, with a short brown bob and a lacy cardigan.

"Oh, Hello dearies. Are you Liam?"

Liam nodded. "Yeah. This is Jimi, and this is Sam."

The old lady smiled at the other two boys.

"How nice to meet you. My name's Mary Driscoll. Will you come inside?" She ushered the trio inside, Jimi and Sam both glancing nervously around. Liam couldn't help thinking that maybe he should've stayed away from creepy houses and fellow werewolf hunters.


The five of them sat around a roaring fire, seated on plush couches and armchairs. They had been joined by Bob Driscoll, an old man with a white beard and a flat-cap, who was Mary's husband.

"Unbelievable." Mary whispered, staring at the video on Liam's phone.

"To think they mix with other children…" Bob said.

Liam paused the video, pointing out the three faces illuminated in the moonlight.

"See, here? These are the werewolves we're looking for."

Bob pointed a gnarled finger at Maddy.

"We know her." He said in his raspy voice.

"She came here with her friends and parents several months ago." Mary added. Jimi and Sam looked at each other. "We knew she was a werewolf immediately. The Poppies never lie."

Liam glanced up at the mantelpiece, where a vase of white, dead-looking flowers stood.

"Do they really detect werewolves?" Sam asked.

"Aye." Mary said. "We grow them on the estate. Old Lord Harfire carried a bunch around all the time."

"Before he was sent off to the asylum." Bob said darkly.

Jimi frowned. "Who's Lord Harfire?"

"He was a werewolf hunter. He used to live here. They thought he was crazy, but he wasn't."

"Like Abraham Hunter!" Liam said excitedly. "He's my ancestor. I've got his diary in my bag."

"Yes, I could see you have werewolf hunter blood in your veins." Bob mused, staring at Liam. "One day Lord Harfire will return. Until then, we shall continue his work by ourselves."

There was silence in the room.

"Is that a real blunderbuss?" Jimi asked suddenly, pointing to an ancient looking gun standing on a cabinet.

"Indeed. Do any of you know how to shoot one?"

"I can shoot a musket." Liam volunteered. "I shot one of the werewolves with one."

Bob nodded thoughtfully. He turned to Mary. "Should we show them the study?" he asked. Mary nodded, standing up.

"We have a room where we keep notes on the beasts. We run all kinds of tests. Follow me."

Everyone stood up, following Mary down a hallway and into a little alcove with a bookcase. She turned a handle stuck on the wall and the bookcase slid to the side, revealing a secret room.

"Woah." Liam whispered, gazing in awe at the detailed drawings of werewolf transformations, the test tubes sitting in spindly little racks, the hundreds of rolls of handwritten notes- this beat even Abrahams ginormous collection. Two lights swung lazily from the ceiling, bathing the tiny room in a rustic, eerie light. This was the answer to all his questions, the place where Liam wasn't seen as crazy or delusional.

"This is amazing." He said finally. Jimi and Sam both were pretty impressed as well. Bob grinned.

"Welcome to Harfire Hall."


A/N: Ooh, the plot thickens...

I'll update hopefully this Friday (Aussie Time) and then I'll probably update every Tuesday like I was doing before.

Also: 7 chapters, 24 pages in a Word Document and over 290 views!

Thank-you to everyone who reads this Fanfic! Go Wolfblood!