**REVISED CHAPTER**

Jak and Daxter (c) Naughty Dog


Cry Of The Wolf
Chapter 3 – Mysteries Arise


"Jak, what the hell happened?" Jak looked up in a dazed manner when he entered the Naughty Ottsel, his hand still grasping onto his bloodied arm. He saw Torn leap up off the counter and stride to his side, worry evident on his features. "Daxter, what happened?" Torn repeated impatiently, turning to face Daxter instead, deciding Jak was in no condition to talk.

"Well, let me just say….HE WAS ATTACKED! WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE?" Daxter yelled animatedly, jumping off Jak's shoulder and landing with a quiet thud on the floor. Torn looked up at Jak, noticing the blood caked between his fingers.

"We'd better get you cleaned up," Torn offered in concern, heading over to a wooden, First Aid box on the large table. He searched through the contents and pulled out a couple of fresh bandages and antiseptic ointment. "Here!" he called, tossing the supplies to Daxter. Daxter caught them and sprung up onto the table, waiting as Jak approached him. "Tell me something, Jak. What exactly did you piss off?" Torn enquired, exasperation lining his tone. He watched as Jak removed his bloodied hand and pulled up his shirtsleeve, allowing Daxter access to the wound.

"I don't know, Torn. It was a large, greyish, furry beast with wings and eerie, deathly blue eyes. It looked almost wolf-like, but something was off about it. I've never seen anything like it in my whole life," Jak replied half distractedly, wincing when his partner scrubbed some of the black ooze, non-too-gently, out of the bite wound. Fresh blood began to gradually well up in the bite marks, and Daxter cursed outwardly.

"What?! Are you serious?!" Torn asked, his eyes wide as fear flashed briefly over his face. Jak nodded solemnly, and bit his tongue to stop himself hissing from the pain. "I'll have to tell Ashelin about this. She needs to know at once. Daxter, make sure the bite's cleaned thoroughly. For all we know, it could be poison." Daxter grunted in response while he dabbed the now-soiled cloth on Jak's arm, taking care not to irritate the bite any further.

"I'll be fine, Torn," Jak muttered, watching as the Ottsel began to wrap the bandage tightly over his arm. He glanced up to his leader, and saw the concern lingering on his face. "Seriously, I'll be fine," he reiterated, hoping to assure Torn. Blue eyes lingered on Jak, assessing whether his words were genuine, before Torn nodded his head once.

After a moment's silence, Torn finally spoke up, "Jak, I haven't a clue what did this to ya, but Mar prays there's only one of 'em. Do you remember how big it was? It'll be good to put on record." Jak closed his eyes and contemplated, trying hard to recall the details, before a strong image of his predator flashed in his memory. He felt a shudder shoot down his spine, and his eyes shot open again.

"It was roughly 6-7 feet from muzzle to tail, with a heavy build. It had huge, feathered wings, and spikes down the length of its tail. There were two straight horns on its forehead, about a foot long," Jak explained quickly, the mental image beginning to fade. His tattooed companion just stared in silent disbelief, mouth slightly ajar as he visualized the beast in his own mind.

"You're not lying, are you?" Torn finally asked, his tone indicating that he wished Jak was. Looking hard into Jak's eyes, he studied them closely, searching for a hint of doubt but found none.

"Does this really look like I'm lying?" Jak muttered defensively, holding out his freshly bandaged arm for his leader to inspect. Torn sighed and shook his head in defeat, before walking over to the back counter. He opened one of the drawers there, and pulled out a box of aspirin.

"Trust me, you'll need these," Torn called, throwing the box over to Jak who caught them with gratitude. "Now, I suggest you get some rest, Jak, with all the things you've been through today. Plus, we might need you tomorrow," he added, walking cautiously back around the counter towards the other man.

"Whatever. If I feel like this tomorrow, then you can forget it. And don't even think about asking me to go out on any suicide missions."

Torn grinned at that statement and glanced to the back wall, holding a snigger to himself. "Don't worry, Jak, you'll be fine," he replied roughly, pointing through the back door leading to the staircase. Jak groaned, and dragging his feet towards the stairs, he began to climb them as steadily as he could. Daxter however, had chosen to remain in the bar for a while longer so as to not disturb his pal's rest. Reaching the top of the stairs, Jak staggered to his bed and collapsed into the comforting blankets. He let out a long, shaky sigh, and closed his eyes. 'Maybe Torn will be right. Hopefully I'll be up and running again by tomorrow.'

"If you need anything, give us a shout." Jak cracked his eyes open at the voice and sat up slightly. He could see Torn leaning against the door frame.

"Will do," Jak replied, laying back down to rest his weary head.

"Look, Jak, we'll find that thing, and we'll kick its sorry ass. Maybe this is gonna be one of those things with the Metal-Heads," he muttered as an afterthought, more to himself than his patient. Something else clicked within Jak's brain; something he should've told Torn.

"There's something else I remember. It killed and devoured an entire Metal-Head," he recalled, waiting for some form of response from his companion. Torn failed to give him one; he just remained silent, his frowning expression indicating that he was doing some thinking. "Torn?" Jak prompted, wondering what was going through his Leader's head. Torn tapped a forefinger against his lips a few times, before retuning his attention to the blonde.

"I heard you, Jak. I'm just trying to find some sense in all this. Ashelin needs informing about the situation, so I'll head out to see her. She might know something, or can at least give us some reassurance," Torn decided, turning his back on Jak and preparing to leave.

"Good. Oh and hey, Torn? Thanks," Jak called, his voice wavering slightly. He closed his eyes again, shutting the world out around him as he relaxed.

"Nothing to it, Jak," Jak heard his comrade reply, before the sound of shuffling footsteps fading told him he was alone. With his head pounding and with his strength slowly disappearing, he fell into an almost instant slumber.


He was running fast through the dark forest, swiftly avoiding any obstacle that happened in his way. The night air rippled through his hair and gave him the feeling that he was soaring through the breeze. Sounds of a wolf howling filled his ears, and he stopped, listening hard to each mournful call. He had to join them! It was his destiny to. Placing a hand upon the dampened earth, he gazed down to find it was no longer a human hand, but a large, clawed paw; a wolf's paw. He raised his head to the full moon, and the golden glow reflected in his eyes, shining eerily in the pools of dark cobalt.

He had an urge to lift his head high and release a long suppressed howl into the night. He yearned to howl his heart out, but he couldn't. He was no wolf, or was he? Another distant cry sent a strong shiver down his spine, as his ears twitched excitedly. They were out there somewhere, and most likely wanted him by their side. Letting the wild instinct overrun his rational senses, he let out a long, deep-throated howl, which carried out into the still night. He was greeted by another cry, not too far away.

He had to find this wolf! He laid another paw down cautiously, as if testing it, and then he ran, rushing through the trees again, branches and leaves cracking beneath his feet. Alas, he failed to care. All he cared for was finding this other beast. The howling became louder and louder as he carried on sprinting through the shadowed surroundings. His mind and heart were racing; nothing else mattered anymore. He howled again, releasing the pent up thrill and heard the same desperate reply.

He bent his head down and leapt through low-lying branches. His paws pounded the ground, thundering in perfect rhythm, forcing him to run faster. He had to get there! He stopped abruptly, knowing he'd reached his goal, and came face to face with another wolf-like beast. Blue eyes were glowing through the dark, watching him intensely.

"You are late," the Wolf growled in a deep tone that suggested power and leadership. He was pawing the ground impatiently. Around his broad, furry neck hung a gold chain, carrying a round pendant of sorts, no bigger than half the size of Jak's palm. He carried an immense feeling of strength and guidance, the way he stood proudly, towering over Jak. He was not to be trifled with.

"I'm sorry," Jak replied in a low, growling voice that did not suit his own.

"Follow me. You are now one of us." Jak lifted his head, and watched as the wolf spread his large wings. He flapped and took flight, leaving Jak behind, alone.

"Wait for me!" Jak howled, but he was too late. The wolf had already vanished into the night sky. He wanted so much to fly into the open, endless sky and be free, but somewhere in the distance, someone was calling his name.