A/N: Hello, everyone! Wolverine Rebirth: Origins is back! Well, I had to water down what I had originally intended to happen but I'm sure you'll find the conclusion satisfying enough. I was trying to make this darker than the last two chapters and I hope that I succeeded. Please utilize that review button and don't just favorite the story. I could use constructive criticism on anything I need to do better. Thanks and enjoy.
"A death isn't like losing a job or getting divorced. You don't 'get over it.' You have to integrate it into your life."
- Wolverine (Earth-616)
1876, Montana Territory
James marched with a group of other soldiers, gripping his Springfield Model 1873 rifle tightly. He stared blankly in the distance as he thought of the past. This wasn't the life that he had envisioned for himself, even after discovering he was a monster. The death of Rose at the hands of his own brother haunted him every time he closed his eyes. The cryptic and ominous words that he had left him with shook him to the core but ever since that day eleven years ago, James hadn't seen Dog. He hadn't smelled him. He hadn't heard him. It was like he had vanished. But James knew that he would come back as soon as he smelled blood. Like a moth to the flame. He knew that Dog would return.
The last eleven years had been fraught with mental turmoil for James. He had wandered away from Canada completely and had moved down the United States. The only thing that kept him alive and kept him busy was war and killing. Every battle that he fought was one in which he released his anger and frustration. The emotions he felt towards Dog for what had he had done had festered and spoiled over into James' everyday life and it was a wonder that he hadn't been discharged from the army for his actions.
James' regiment continued to march through the forest. James inhaled and smiled. The smell of the trees and the wildlife filled his nose, creating an air of serenity. The sounds of the birds whistling in the canopy echoed throughout the area and James was calmed.
"Keep it moving! We've still got another ten miles to go!" the officer in the front called as he rocked from side to side on top of his horse. James scoffed and spat on the ground, keeping the same pace that he had been. No matter how fast they went, ten miles was ten miles. James didn't know why the hell he would...
A small whistling sound rocketed into James' ear and he cocked his gun. Before he could raise his weapon, a stream of arrows flew from the trees, hitting a couple of people walking in the line. James growled and fired his weapon once into the woods. He reached into his pocket and grabbed some more ammo.
"What the hell is going on?" a soldier yelled as he fired his rifle. A arrow sailed through the air, impaling the man in his forehead, dropping him instantly. James looked around him and one by one, his platoon was slaughtered. A few arrows hit James in his chest and he staggered backwards and roared. He swung his head horizontally, trying to see his attackers. An eerie and ghoulish cry rose from the trees and suddenly a large group of men, dressed in dear skin trousers and bear necklaces appeared, chanting wildly. They leapt upon the downed US soldiers and drove their knives deep into the skulls of the men. One of the men leapt onto James and raised his weapon to kill him.
James roared and kicked the man off and raised his rifle upwards and drove his bayonet into the man's stomach. Another of the marauders stabbed James in his back, howling as he did it. James snarled and swung back towards the man. Ducking, the man drew his knife and stabbed it into James' throat. James coughed and blood spurted out of his mouth. A smirk crossed his attacker's face and James growled. "Wipe that goddamned smile of your face!" James yelled as he drew his twelve inch bone claws and sent them flying into the man's chest. James pulled his claws from the man's chest and turned towards the rest of the attackers.
The men drew their bows and a stream of arrows struck James simultaneously, hitting all over his body. James fell to the ground and growled angrily as he began to slowly remove the arrows from his skin as the wounds healed. His assailants stood over James and began to talk to one another. James gasped softly and growled at the men. One of the men cocked his head and laughed. He then pointed at James and said something to one of his comrades. The man grabbed James' rifle and raised it over his head. He then drove the butt of the rifle into James' skull. James moaned softly and slunk off into a black embrace.
10 Minutes Later...
Cold water fell on James' skin, instantly jump starting his body and causing his eyes to burst open widely. In front of him, a group of children stood in front of holding a large bucket. James frowned and then growled at them. The kids laughed and grabbed handfuls of dirt and threw it at James. James spat as the dirt filled his mouth and his nose and he growled angrily. A club crashed against the bridge of his nose and the impact blinded James. James turned and looked to his right and saw the man that had knocked him out.
The man waved more children over and they skipped over towards James and pointed at him and laughed. The laughing wasn't what annoyed James, even though the shrillness of the cries were beginning to hurt his head. It was the man that stood over him as if he was his warden that really irritated him. James tried to move his wrists and groaned. He turned around and groaned. His hands were completely tied by a thick rope. He couldn't move his wrists enough to even reach the ropes with his claws even if he happened to draw them out. He was stuck and all he could feel was anger as the children continued to throw dirt on him.
A quick hoot scared the children away and James' watcher looked off across the length of the camp. A man shouted, raising his hands and waving them back and forth. The watcher shouted in response and grabbed James by the back of his neck and raised him up. James was taller than the man by at least three inches and he looked down at him with a deep loathing. The watcher shouted and hit James in the back of the head and pushed him forward. James growled and stared forward. If he had his way, he was going to make the bastard pay.
James was pushed forward and continued to walk. He looked around and observed everything that was going on. He saw woman cutting pieces of meat and putting them over the fire, a group of men riding in on horses carrying a dead deer with them. He saw children running around carrying twigs as spears, chanting playfully as they raced around the camp. Despite his earlier irritation, he found somewhat of a feral serenity to the scene. It almost made him feel sorry for what was happening...
The watcher said something softly to James and then gently pushed James inside of a large tent. James looked forward and saw an older man kneeling in the middle of the tent. He had a large white feather crown-like ornament on his head and he looked intensely towards James. He waved his hand towards the watcher and he bowed and exited, leaving James kneeling in front of the man. James stared at the man and then sighed.
"Who the hell are you?" James asked. The man raised his hand and then stood up.
"You don't know where you are...but yet you ask who I am?" the man asked. James raised an eyebrow.
"You speak English?" he asked. The man shook his head.
"You are not the first white man to come here." the man replied.
"Fair enough."
"You asked who I am. My name is Chief Iiniiwa-Mahkan of the Piikáni Blackfoot Tribe. In your language, my name is Running Buffalo." the man said. James nodded and shrugged.
"Why..."
"Are you here? Why are you alive? I do not know. My best warriors say that you survived all that they did to you. They hit you with arrows many times and you still kneel in front of me. What power do you have that makes you this way?" Running Buffalo said as he walked around James. James didn't know how to respond. He didn't fully trust this man but the very fact that he was taking time to talk to him instead of trying to kill him as every other of his Blackfoot subordinates had attempted to do before. Even he did tell him what his powers were, it was highly unlikely, if not impossible, that they would be able to do anything to him. The problem was, he didn't fully understand himself.
"I heal. I heal faster than anything that you've ever seen before." James replied. Running Buffalo circled him and James could feel his eyes piercing his flesh as he observed him.
"You fight like a bear. You show true warrior spirit. The Spirits are pleased." Running Buffalo said. James dipped his head slightly, acknowledging the first praise he had gotten since entering the camp. "It is not wise to kill a warrior as yourself. If you will stay with my tribe, we will feed you, give you clothes and a place to sleep as well as your choice of women. If not, I will give you a horse and supplies and you may leave." James looked at Running Buffalo and wrinkled his nose. He was lying. James could smell the change in his scent and it was absolutely repulsive. James still had two choices. He could stay here with these Blackfoot and get shelter, food and a woman or he could slaughter everyone in the camp and take their goods for himself.
James frowned. That's what Dog would want him to do. To be a monster just like he was. That wasn't going to happen, but still, there was little hope that James would feel welcome in this tribe. The men probably would pick fights him just for the fun of doing so and if push came to shove, James' shove would be the last thing they felt. James looked up at Running Buffalo whose face was full of expectation. James knew what answer the man expected and he was pretty sure that he was getting ready to give it.
"I'll stay." James said. Running Buffalo smiled and opened his arms, beckoning James to stand to his feet. James sighed softly and walked over to the Blackfoot Chief and he was embraced in a deep and somewhat uncomfortable hug. James endured it and finally was let go. Running Buffalo took James' hand and led him out of his teepee. The sun beamed in James' face and he could the chief speaking in his native tongue. After he had spoken, there were some small hollers and hoops, but otherwise there was silence. When his eyes adjusted, James could see nothing but straight faces. Whatever Running Buffalo had said, it was unsettling to his people. The Blackfoot turned to James and smiled.
"I tell you plan to stay here with us." he said.
"They don't seem to like it." James replied, noting some of the rather angry faces of the men. Running Buffalo patted his soldier and beckoned for him to follow. James entered the teepee and sat down. He heard the soft pitter patter of feet and turned slightly to see a few more Blackfoot entering into the chief's teepee. James frowned and stifled a growl. It was his watcher and a few men who had personally struck him with arrows that had hurt more than just his pride.
"This is Eagle Feather." Running Buffalo said as he pointed at the man who was James' watcher. "He brought you to us." Eagle Feather looked down at James, his hollow and dark eyes causing James to itch under his skin. It was very uncomfortable how this Blackfoot looked at him and James did his best to keep from disrespecting any sense of camaraderie that was supposed to be felt in this teepee. James was so focused on the way that Eagle Feather was eyeing him that he missed the second and third introductions. He didn't exactly care. They meant nothing to him. The main problem was between him and this Blackfoot. James couldn't help himself. He wanted to gut him.
"White man stink like kuekuatsu." Eagle Feather said as he pointed at James and held his nose. Everyone inside the teepee chuckled while James looked around confused.
"The hell's koo...koo what?" James asked looking around. The Blackfoot continued to laugh and Running Buffalo grabbed a skull and held it up. He played with the skull and opened and closed it with his fingers.
"Kuekuatsu. Skunk-Bear." Running Buffalo said with a smile. James rubbed his head and then suddenly a memory flashed in his head. This "Skunk-Bear" was a wolverine.
1856, British Columbia
James raced through the thick coniferous forest, smiling as he made leaps and bounds through the trees and across rushing creeks. He had slunk away from Dog and Rose as they were walking through their small community, but he knew that they knew where he was. Ever since they had left Alberta, James had felt so much more in touch with the wild. All his senses opened. His mind was freed of all the stress and trauma that he had gone through. He felt alive out here. Nothing made him happier than being out.
James stalked slowly through the bushes, sniffing every now and then. Many scents were in the air, but there was very distinct and musky scent in the air. James had smelled it several times before but he had never been able to have time to actively track down the cause. Now, things were different. James followed his hyper-sensitive nose through the brush and made his way to a broken and rotten stump of a tree. James sniffed around and the musky scent was even stronger. There was no doubt that he had arrived. James looked under the stump and heard small squeals.
Curious, he leaned farther down. A warning growl echoed from under the stump. It was minuscule however and James continued to look down. Inside the dusty and dark hole, James saw two small golden-brown and black creatures with thick and oily looking fur. They stared up with both innocence and ferocity as James smiled at what he had discovered.
They were wolverine kits. James had heard of wolverines from Dog who had also heard of them from fur traders and hunters. They were supposed to be ferocious enough to take down deer and moose ten times their size and even steal prey from bears. But when James looked down at these young kits, he saw some very innocent and utterly defensless young ones without any protection. Protection that they very well needed.
James whipped around and growled. But his scowl sunk into a face of utter awe. Before him, stood a nine foot tall grizzly bear. It's mouth was open and drool hung from the corner of its mouth. The bear looked straight past James and down into the tree stump hole. James looked behind him and then back at the bear. He stared at the animal and gasped softly. It was like he could read the beast's emotional state. There was only one thing that came to its mind. Kill.
James stayed placed in front of the kits and growled, albeit feebly, to the immense bear but it did little. The bear dropped to all fours and moved closer to James and roared. The vibrations sent shocks through James' body and James almost backed away. However, he stood his ground and growled back at the bear, stronger this time then before. The bear stared back and then roared. It jumped forward and began to charge towards James. Though he was afraid, James stood his ground and clenched his fists tightly. His bone claws emerged from his knuckles and he readied himself.
The first attack was a large and clubbing blow from the bear that James barely ducked under. All he could see was a blanket of brown fur and James slashed at it twice. He struck through fur and reached flesh twice. Blood fell to the ground in droplets and the bear backed away, looking down at its wounds. James lowered himself and sighed. He was a sixteen year old boy taking on a full-grown male grizzly bear. In any other situation, he would be scared beyond belief, however, something feral within him had been awakened. He felt obligated to protect these defenseless kits.
The male grizzly paced back and forth in front of James and stared him down, his beady dark brown eyes circling looking for any weakness as he assessed his enemy. James' face dropped into a scowl and he bore his teeth in a vicious snarl. The grizzly roared and stood on his hind legs and towered over James. James yelled back and the male bear fell forward with his mouth open and huge paws crashing down towards James. The young feral boy put hit claws in front of his face to defend himself and there was a sickening sound of flesh being penetrated and blood being spilled on the ground.
James panted as his heart pounded inside his chest. On top of him lay a 850 pound bear which was most certainly dead weight now. James could smell the bear's blood all over him and mixed with the musky scent of the wolverine, it was a horrendous stench. James pushed as hard as he could, but the beast wouldn't budge at all. James groaned and used both his legs and arms and pushed. The bear moved barely enough for James to crawl from underneath it. James gasped as he was finally free of the weight of the bear. However, James heard a loud growl and his heart began to race. The bear couldn't be still alive especially with so much of its blood splattered on the ground. James turned slowly to see the source of the growl. His eyes widened. It was the mother wolverine.
The female growled up at James and then peered over towards the dead bear carcass. James heard the happy squeals of the kits as the rushed out from between his legs towards their mother, brushing against him intentionally. The mother checked the kits and then stared back up at James. Instead of growling, she looked at him only warily. James could sense an emotion resonating from her. She was grateful, maybe even happy. James was unsure if she knew exactly what he had done, but he was sure that she was sparing him front any unnecessary fighting. The female wolverine nudged her kits into the bushes and turned towards James. After a few seconds of staring, she padded after them. James smiled and panted. He looked up into the sky and then sighed. It was time to go home.
1878, Montana Territory
The sound of buffalo crossing the plains echoed across the plains, filling James' head with delight. Two years had passed since he was invited to stay with the Blackfoot tribe. The Blackfoot had trained him in their ways and had even renamed him, Kuekuatsu, Wolverine, for his ferocity and aggressive nature. They taught him their language, which he could now speak fluently and their legends which he knew almost by heart. He had grown fond of the tribesmen, except for Eagle Feather. The two never seemed to get along, especially not during the hunt. James gazed over the plains at the buffalo, his superhumanly keen eyes analyzing every detail in the herd. The herd had around thirty members: Three bulls, seventeen cows and ten calves. One of the bulls seemed to walk with a limp and James could see that it was older from it's missing horn and battle scarred flanks. One of the Blackfoot rode up to him, with the rest of the hunting party close behind.
"What do you see, Wolverine?" the Blackfoot said. James turned to him and smiled as he pointed across the plains.
"Cloud In The Sky, there is an injured old bull near the back of the herd. He will be easy to kill." James responded. Cloud In The Sky nodded.
"Yes, but we will need more than just one buffalo to feed our village. Can you see any cows that will be suitable?"
"I'm not sure which ones have young. Killing them might cause the young to die." James said.
"Then they will die." Eagle Feather said as he approached on his horse. James looked over at him with contempt and growled. Eagle Feather stared back. "Does the Skunk-Bear wish to test the talons of the eagle?" he asked, placing his hand on his calf where he stored his dagger. With one quick motion, James could spill this Blackfoot's entrails all over the plains and leave his dying carcass to the coyotes and buzzards. However, killing a member of the tribe would be an automatic exile and with a wife at home, he couldn't afford that.
"No." James replied, reluctantly. Eagle Feather scoffed.
"Just because you stole Silver Fox's hand in marriage does not mean that you are great, white man. Remember that." Eagle Feather growled as he stared James down. James could hardly keep himself from unsheathing his claws and small ripples began to form underneath his knuckles. Eagle Feather turned and trotted farther up on his horse. James took in a deep breath and then exhaled. He couldn't let his emotions get in the way of the hunt. In order to take down these buffalo effectively, they would have to work well as a unit.
James hooted a call to the Blackfoot and they rode out from behind a hill out onto the plains. They chanted loudly as they rode behind the herd. The herd broke into a run and the Blackfoot tapped their horses flanks to increase their speed. They easily caught up to them and James rode beside the injured buffalo that he had spotted from afar. The animal was weak, but most definitely a fighter as it kept up with the rest of its herd. James drew his bow and arrow and aimed behind the buffalo's left forelimb. James fired and the arrow hit its target. Buffalo fell head over heels and if the arrow hadn't killed it, breaking its own neck in its fall most definitely did.
James jumped off his horse as the buffalo herd passed and stood over the fallen male. He looked off into the distance as the herd continued to run and saw Eagle Feather aiming his arrow and killing the females. James roared in outrage. He had just told them not to kill the females, yet Eagle Feather still proceeded. James snarled. He hated the bastard with every fiber of his being.
"Eagle Feather! You bastard!" James howled as he hopped onto his horse and rode towards him. When he got there, he tackled him off of his horse and plowed into the ground. Eagle Feather reached for his knife and drew it, however, James sent his elbow crashing into Eagle Feather's wrist, breaking it. Eagle Feather stared up blankly in pain and he growled.
"Skunk-Bear!" he shouted. James drew his claws and placed them against Eagle Feather's face, trying his hardest not to break his skin.
"I told you not to kill the females because we didn't know who had calves! You disobeyed!" James growled. Eagle Feather spat in James' face and laughed.
"I would never listen to a white man." he said with a twisted grin. James sheathed his claws and roared and he punched Eagle Feather on the bridge of his nose. James growled and sighed. If he caught hell for what he just did, he was going to castrate Eagle Feather.
Later That Day, Blackfoot Camp
James curled up in bed and pulled the sheets over his shoulders and sighed. After the hunting party had returned, there was a great celebration over the killing of the buffalo that had begun to disappear more and more every year. James had explained Eagle Feather's extended unconsciousness by saying a buffalo had butted his horse and thrown him to the ground. Of course, Eagle Feather wasn't awake to say otherwise and none of the other Blackfoot would contradict his statement. James smiled and sighed softly. A body rustled next to him and James looked over to see the beautiful face of his wife, Silver Fox.
The daughter of Running Buffalo, Silver Fox was the equivalent of a princess to this Blackfoot tribe and revered for her beauty. When James had first met her, she was initially sarcastic and somewhat hostile towards him, however they began to fall in love over the time as James became accepted by the Blackfoot and proved himself to be worthy of her hand. This, however, had not set well with Eagle Feather, who's hate for James only festered more when he discovered they were to be married. James understood his frustrations rather well. Silver Fox was Eagle Feather's first love.
"I hear that you hunted well today." Silver Fox said as her lips touched James' jaw line that had begun to form faint mutton chop sideburns. James chuckled softly.
"It's getting easier to use the bow. Before, I would just shove my claws into the buffalo and take its head off." James said. Silver Fox shook her head in amusement.
"Just like the Wolverine you are." she said softly. James turned over and looked down on his bride and smiled.
"I'm your Wolverine." he said softly. A passionate kiss followed his words and the action grew more and more intense as the time wore on. James began to feel his feral energies bursting through him and he was praying softly that they didn't disturb the camp.
In The Trees
Eagle Feather looked down on his camp in disgust. How could they accept a white man as a Blackfoot? He knew that the white man always brought trouble with him. Why would Running Buffalo be so foolish? However, it was only ironic that he had grown to trust another white man. One whom he intended to meet tonight.
"So, you're here." a deep and menacing voice snarled. Eagle Feather turned quickly. Even after a few months of talking to this man, he had never grown accustomed to his voice.
"Yes. I am here." Eagle Feather said. The man emerged from the shadows, a long and tattered black cloak covering his body. Eagle Feather could faintly make out his long blonde hair underneath his hood and a few elongated canine teeth on his bottom jaw. When he opened his palms, his sharp, talon-like fingernails glinted in the moonlight and Eagle Feather's heart rate quickened slightly. The man took in a deep breath and chuckled.
"Your fear scent is so enticing. It almost makes me have to kill you." he said as he laughed. When he was finished, he grunted. "He's down there. I can smell him and I can hear him." he said. Eagle Feather nodded.
"Yes, the teepee behind the largest one in the middle is his. He lays there with my woman." Eagle Feather said as he frowned. The man laughed.
"Your woman?" he exclaimed. "Little Jimmy's scent is all over her. Even from here, I know there ain't a damned trace of you anywhere." the man said as Eagle Feather looked away, embarrassed. "You can only claim something that ain't yours if you've got the power to take it." the man growled. Eagle Feather nodded quickly. He was beginning to feel very uncomfortable.
"Do you remember your vow?" he asked. The man chuckled.
"Yes, I remember."
"Good. That's good."
"Funny thing is...I don't keep 'vows'. The only one I'm keeping is to that little bastard in your camp. To take away all that he loves. His friends. His family. To turn him into a mindless animal, like me. And do you know what a wild animal does if it's forced to live by a set code of ethics?" the man growled.
"N-no."
"They break free and kill everything." the man growled as he raised his hand and slashed through Eagle Feather's neck, sending his head flying from the woods. "C'mon out, Jimmy. Your worst nightmare is back." the man said as he pulled back his hood and revealed the face of Dog Logan.
Inside James' teepee
The passion between James and Silver Fox was interrupted when James caught something in the air. The smell sent his body into full alert and he bore his teeth in disbelief. He's found me? How? He thought. He looked down at Silver Fox who stared up at him confused.
"Wolverine, what's wrong?" Silver Fox asked. James grabbed her by her shoulders and stared into her eyes.
"You need to run. Run onto the plains, but don't go into the forest! Go now!" James shouted. Silver Fox quickly dressed herself and began to leave the teepee. A shadow loomed over James' abode and James' eyes widened as he saw the claws.
"There ain't goin' to be any running, Jimmy." Dog said as he reached inside the teepee and grabbed both Silver Fox and James. James peered around the camp and his eyes widened. Everyone was dead. Everyone. It was impossible. Had he been so caught up in his passion that he didn't smell or hear anything going on? Or was Dog such an accomplished killer that he could kill silently and negate James' senses until he was ready to face him? Whatever it was, there was no time for explanations.
"Let her go!" James yelled as he unsheathed his claws and sent them sliding through the bone in Dog's arm. Silver Fox fell to the ground and back away slowly, completely frozen in fear. James was thrown to the ground and the breath escaped from him. He couldn't even tell her what to do. She just sat frozen like a rabbit about to be pounced on by a bobcat. James stared over at Dog who casually reached down towards his severed arm and picked it up, eyeing it. James had no idea what the sick brain of Dog had in mind until he saw it. Dog placed his severed arm back to the stump and within moments, he could move it again.
As sickening as it was, Dog had reattached a severed limb. James almost lost all hope. How could he defeat someone like this? With such power? He was much more of a monster than he was back when he had killed Rose. He was completely inhuman. James rose from the ground and raced towards Dog swinging his claws across Dog's torso, sending blood spurting into the campfire. Dog retaliated by shoving his fist into James' kidney and sinking his claws into it. James yelled out in pain and shot an elbow strike into Dog's nose and then pounced on top of him as he fell and began to jab his claws into his abdomen, ripping and tearing just as he had done to Thomas Logan. Dog suddenly slashed at James' eyes and kicked him off. Dog rose up quickly and plowed his index finger into James' forehead.
"That may have worked on our father all those years ago, James, but that ain't goin' to work now." Dog said.
"He wasn't our father! He was yours!" James shouted. Dog shook his head in pity.
"All this time and you haven't put the damn facts together?" Dog said as he flexed his claw in and out of James' forehead. "We both end up with these abilities that make us animals, Jimmy. We damn well may be the only two bastards on this planet that can do what we do. You think that's just by happenstance? No. That old drunken bastard was right. Your 'daddy' couldn't handle your mother. I was alive when she came into father's cabin. I saw them with my own two eyes, Jimmy."
"No."
"I saw the lust and frustration as your mother stripped down like a common brothel whore and moaned loud enough for the damn hounds to think it was hunting time."
"NOOOOOO!" James yelled as he gathered his strength and slashed across Dog's face, his claws leaving a diagonal scar. Dog smiled and then looked up as his face healed.
"You may not want to accept it, Jimmy. But you...you ain't nothing but a poor man's mistake. Shit, at least your somebody's." Dog said as he began to laugh evilly. James roared loudly and rushed Dog. Dog ducked under James' strike and caught his fist. With a swift and nasty twist of James' wrist, there was a loud snap. James looked down shocked. Not only was his wrist broken. His claws were as well. They fell like little knives to the ground and James swung with his other hand and was met with the same result. His claws fell to the ground, broken. Dog grabbed James by his throat and slammed him into the ground. Before James could even get up, he howled out loudly in pain and looked over at his forearm. Two of his broken claws were buried deep inside his muscle and the bone. Two more claws were sent into his other forearm and then he finally felt the last two claws go into his thighs. Dog knelt down in front of James and then pointed at the still frozen Silver Fox. James shook his head violently.
"RUN!" he screamed to the top of his lungs. When the woman had finally come to her senses and tried to get up, Dog grabbed her by her hair and threw her to the ground. Dog loomed over her and smiled at James who couldn't do a thing. He was stuck into the ground. "You fucking horseshit bastard! Touch her and I'll..."
"You won't do shit...except watch." Dog said as he lowered himself to the ground and climbed on top of Silver Fox, who squirmed rapidly, tears running down her face. Dog cackled and held her face. James began to hyperventilate, his heart pounding, his pupils dilated and a bestial roar rose from his throat. Without hesitation, James tore his arms and legs through their holds, ignoring all pain as he let loose his freshly regrown claws. His mind was gone. He was no longer consciously there. He had unleashed a new and primordial anger. He had unleashed a feral, berserker rage.
Dog rose up to face James, but James only roared and continued to slash at Dog. James' claws hit their target and blood fell like a crimson waterfall from Dog's stumped arm. When blood had hit James' nose, it only increased his drive. The conscious, human part of mind was fighting to gain some degree of control only to be shot back by the monstrous animal that had emerged within James. As he tore apart Dog, his blood flying out of his body in buckets and his other arm flying off completely, his intestines spilling the ground followed close after by his stomach and pancreas. James ended by dislodging Dog's heart and raised his hand to slice off his head when a hand touched him. Before he had time to register the touch, he sent his claws towards the touch with a backhand. A new smell of blood hit James' face. Before he could roar in triumph, the human conscious began to gain ground. James' anger began to rest and sorrow overtook him. For the first time in years, tears poured down his face. In front of him, laid the decapitated body of his Blackfoot love, Silver Fox...killed by his own claws...and not Dog's.
