Nikoru Sanzo: Thanks! As for what happened with Anna: VH picked her up off the couch, the cure took effect, and...well, wolves are no good at holding things in their forelimbs, you know? Anna, as it turned out, was only unconscious, a fact not helped by VH's inability to keep her upright whilst in wolf form. It was quite considerate of her not to die, as it saved Our Heroes a lengthy detour to the coast. She and VH parted on amiable terms. Perhaps she has allergies.

RozzandMaya: Thank you, and do stick around; we'll see where it goes from here.

HughJackmanFan: Don't worry, VH didn't really hit him, just gave him a little prod. Dinner's a high priority for wolves, you know.

Seadragon68: Heh. VH's sure taking life as a wolf in stride. Life's probably much less complicated when one's a wolf.

Shout-out to DR for your review over on Yahoo!

The stars were just a sprinkling of tiny bright points overhead. He realised, much to his surprise, that he'd never actually bothered learning the constellations before. Well, he'd never had a need to navigate, they weren't bright enough to read by, and they weren't combustible - well, not practically combustible - and so they just hadn't been very high on his list of priorities, especially not when there were new unstable chemicals to work with (and, in many cases, later attempt to mop up).

So they didn't provide him much by way of reference, but it was either them or the insides of his eyelids.

It was said that sleeping out in the open was good for one's health. He would agree, if by 'good for one's health' they meant getting one's back all soggy from the damp ground and shivering so hard one woke oneself up every few minutes.

He tugged the scratchy woolen blanket a little higher around his nose.

'I heard that.'

He angled a sideways glare at Van Helsing. 'You're supposed to be keeping watch.'

'And you're supposed to be sound asleep.'

'I might be. Perhaps I'm just talking in my sleep. You never know.'

Van Helsing didn't reply. There was the sound of rustling from the direction of their packs, and Carl turned to see the wolf reach in and pull out something long and supple in his jaws. Van Helsing dragged it over to where he lay, and with a twist of his head tossed part of it, with a little jingle of metal, atop the friar.

Carl put out a gloved hand and encountered Van Helsing's leather coat. 'You're giving me this?'

'Does it look like it fits me? And it's only for a month.'

'Oh. Well...thank you.'

'I'm keeping an eye on it.'

'I'll try not to toss it on the fire.'

'Appreciate it.'

He settled it over himself as a spare blanket. The thick leather was already trapping what little body heat he had left, and maybe he was just fancying it, but he might actually be beginning to warm back up.

'You don't need it?' he asked, just to be polite, of course.

'You see this fur? It's double-layered, you know.'

'Really?'

'Take my word for it.' The wolf dropped lazily down to the ground, against his left side, not a bad complement to the banked fire warming him on his right. Van Helsing tilted his head back. 'What's so interesting up there?'

Carl huffed. 'You were supposed to be watching the woods, not watching me.'

'Who needs eyes to keep watch?'

'Oh.' Hmmm. He focused again on the stars. 'Do you know any constellations?'

'Well, not by name. I know enough to get around.' There was a pause. 'Bit blurry tonight.'

The sky was crystal clear. 'Are your eyes all right?'

'Fine, I think. Just...not very important. Why look at things when you can smell them leagues away? Or hear them?'

'Ah. I see what you mean.' He pointed upwards with his chin. 'You see that cluster of stars there? To the right of the moon?'

'Your right or my right?'

'Oh. Your...left.' He extricated an arm from the blankets and pointed. 'One, two, three, and then it zig-zags the rest of the way down and around...?'

'Yes. So?'

'It looks just like Father Mahone.'

'It does not.'

'Yes, it does. Who else has a hump on his nose like that?'

'You're insane.'

'And over here...' He sketched it out. 'Head with a beak, and the wings...?'

'A gryphon?'

'Yes!'

'With an alarmingly long front leg.'

'A pity it's up front.'

This time it was definitely a snort. 'Carl...'

He pointed. 'Stumpy Sphinx With Extra Head.'

'You mean just above the tree-line?'

'Yes! There, you saw it too.'

Van Helsing's head flopped down onto his front paws. 'Oh, god. Leave me out of this.'

Carl grinned.