Daryl, Sasha, and Abraham stared intently at the biker gang. Outgunned and outnumbered, they wondered what their next step would be. Their eyes were averted to a grotesque man covered in guns and blood. Whatever it was hat was chasing him seemed to be more frightening that the biker gang.

It all happened in the bat of an eye. Rocks tied by rope wrapped the man's torso. A fierce creature jumped from the treelike and landed on the man's back. His eyes stretched as widely as he could as he took in his last glimpse of the world around him. A knife plunged into his neck and he went limp. A woman drank in the air thirstily and when she looked up at the sky a familiar symbol became apparent on her forehead. "W" the sign of the wolves.

The bikers turned their arm towards the woman.

"Hold your fire boys," the man smirked. "You wouldn't happen to be Lycaon would you?"
The woman turned calmly to look at the biker. Despite the calm demeanor there was still a fierce light in her eyes.

"Ah… Negan's men," she said calmly while keeping her crouch. "My apologies… eh… Garrett. Have I interrupted a family reunion?"

Sasha raised her eyebrow at the creature before her. Despite the six guns aimed at her she seemed unfazed. "What would it cost me to gain an audience with Negan?"

Garrett whistled in surprise. "You want to join us now?"

"Hardly." She dug into her pocket which put the men on edge again. "Instead, allow me to give you a parting gift. It's what little information I have on his sort." She nodded to the dead man.

"Why should we care?"

"You don't have to care now, but you will care later. I am hoping that you will sort them out when the time comes. They kill for the sake of killing."

"I think we know more about them than you give us credit." Garrett said throwing the paper to the side. "We even knew that they've tried to recruit you."

"I apologize, I've just noticed that your quarry has run off behind your truck."

"Stupid bitch," Garrett cursed as he turned for the truck.

Abraham's wild eyes gleaned from knowing that they've made their escape, and what's more he was carrying the prize of the trip on his shoulder. Sasha trailed behind feeling uneasy about the woman who had watched them run off. She watched Daryl as he deftly lead them through the forest. He was quick and very silent unlike the lumbering Abraham and his toy. She was glad to have it but was nervous that he was the one carrying the RPG.

"We need to stick it out for another three days," Daryl uttered.

"And then your dead…"
The group froze. Sasha's wide eyes scanned the perimeter. "Not from me of course," Lycaon said casually. She revealed herself alone with a bald young man next to her. "Easy…" she cooed. "I'm actually interested in helping you rather than accosting you."

"Trying to show off your vocabulary," Sasha said cooly.

"I was a literature teacher… But enough about me. This little deal that I'm offering will be expiring shortly. Garrett and company will be searching for you and I'd rather not have to fight them."

"Why side with him?"

"I'm not siding with you necessarily. I just need to see if any survivors from my clan are at your facilities."

Daryl looked at Sasha for advice. Sasha nodded at Daryl.

Abraham puffed, "What? No one asks me for advice?"

"You're irrelevant." Sasha stared Abraham down, but he smiled at her mischievously.

"Well I think we have an agreement. We should probably break into a a run right now." Lycaon bolted into a run. They weaved through the trees and slid through the mud. She had her acolyte brush the leaves about to remove their tracks.

"Let's just settle up here for a bit and let our pursuers meet their demise. Unfortunately, Negan's men are tenacious. They hate being slighted and will make people pay for whatever inconvenience is thrown their way."

"We're outgunned," Sasha hissed.

"Five versus six? Not bad odds." Lycaon cleared the leaves away and opened a box. She handed her man a crudely customized weapon. "Let the games begin."

Sasha, Abraham and Daryl watched in silence as three members of the motorcycle gang approached them. Lycaon's companion whooped as he fired. A bright light followed by a loud boom the two men were annihilated and the third was left without legs. Sasha aimed her gun at the wailing man, but Lycaon grabbed her arm. "Let him distract the undead while we get out of here. It would help cover our trail and give Garrett something else to concern himself about."

"We could've taken their guns," Daryl snapped.

"Well Balto decided that we didn't need to take their bullets. We are alive to live another day."

"Balto?" Abraham raised a brow.

"He's our mock shaman here. I daren't call him a doctor." Lycaon picked up her pace and they eventually found themselves in a clearing. There was a house barely standing against the elements. It was surrounded by barbed wire and cans strewn along the fence line. "Welcome to the sticks. This is Balto's old abode.

"It's where I used to cook." Balto opened the gate.

"We'll set up for the night." Lycaon said.

"Yeah, but first, let me clean up house." Something about his tone startled Lycaon.

Everyone watched silently as he approached the house. Balto took in a deep breath and seemed to be psyching himself up for something. He opened the door. "Ayyye! Fonzie!" A sickening splat could be heard. Balto dragged out a body and threw it over the fence.

"That was heartless," Lycaon said dryly.

"Well it's not him right. He's just a body now."

"Anything we can used in there?"
"A roof over our heads and four walls to block the wind. What more can you ask?"

"All right. You can stop being snippy. Get in there."