Chapter Summary: Netherlands encounters the rogue werewolves and races to Hungary for help. While they devise a plan, the wolves enjoy their new-found freedom.

Ch. 22: Hunters

October 31, 8:15 PM

The problem with being a dealer of magical things is that one never knows what will be in demand. It's not like fish - fish are always in demand, pickled or not. Netherlands would've kept eye of naga in stock if he'd known that Sweden was going to be a bad boy and not take his medication. As it stands, he only has three eyes fresh enough to be used for the potion.

He tries to call Norway to see if he has any, but there's no answer. That's when he starts to worry. Tonight's no time for Norge to be out of touch. His three eyes in hand, metaphorically speaking, he heads for Hungary's and hopes those will be enough.

Netherlands turns the corner to head down the forest road. Hungary's place isn't far, but he likes the short-cut. Time is money, after all. However, as he's driving a huge mass suddenly darts in front of his car. He hits the brakes and the thing turns into his headlights. A wolf. A huge grey wolf with blue eyes. Holy Shit. Another, smaller wolf darts past, and then one with huge... Oh shit. Oh shit.

Backing up, Netherlands makes a u-turn and takes for the longer route, speeding to make up time. He has to get to Hungary now, because clearly Norway isn't doing his job.

When he reaches Hungary's place there's already another car outside. He doesn't have time to think about the possibility that she might be with someone right now, so he simply pounds on the door hard enough to make the wood rattle beneath his fingers. When she answers, he barrels past her. "We've got a problem."

Hungary blinks. "A...problem?" Her hands go to her hips and she glares at him. "If you sold me bad items again, I'm going to hit you so hard your economy will collapse."

"Oh, you're going to wish I sold you bad items," he promises, heading into the kitchen before she can even invite him in. He's got no time for the niceties. "The wolves are loose. Most of them. At least three."

"What?" Hungary hisses. That means Russia - Russia - could be freely roaming the world as a raging, bloodthirsty werewolf. "Are you sure?"

"Drove right past them," Netherlands replies, grabbing her supply of wolfsbane off the shelf and sprinkling a little on her window ledge. "Fuck, nearly hit one. Then high-tailed it over here."

"They're here?" she gasps. "How is that possible?"

"Because Norway isn't doing his fucking job," Netherlands snaps, sticking a sprig in his scarf and one in Hungary's hair. "I called him like eight times on the way here, trying to get more naga eyes for you. But he's not answering his phone. Something's up. Unless - Is that who's here? Norge?"

"Oh, no! He's not here, that's, ah..." She hesitates, then decides that such a situation requires full disclosure. Netherlands knows about the troll already, anyway. "Sweden!" she calls into the living room.

"Mm?" he leans into the kitchen, but when he sees Netherlands he drops his hand behind his back. "Ah. Heard someone. S'problem?"

Netherlands raises his eyebrows. Well. That pinkie is definitely stone. "Yeah. A few." He takes out his phone and starts scrolling through the numbers. "Something's up with Norge, and the wolves are on the loose. I think we need to enlist some help."

"Wolves?" Sweden looks to Hungary.

"Ah..." she sighs. "Some of the other nations are like you: more than human, more than nation. There are werewolves among them, a whole pack. Usually Norway rounds them up before a full moon, but something must have gone wrong."

"There are wolves out there?" As if in answer, a chorus of howls echoes through the window. Sweden's eyes widen, but the fear is not on his own behalf. "Tino! Tino is out there. Think he found out about my...well he found out, and he got upset. I can't reach 'im."

"Shit." Netherlands hisses, looking toward the window. "Fuck. Okay. I'm calling the hunters. They'll get the wolves caged within the hour. Then we have to find Finland - because God fucking knows what a pissed off tonttu can do."

Sweden stares. "...a what?"

"Oh sweetie, how did you miss that?" says Hungary. "Never mind. Your marriage, not mine. You and your partner can have that talk."

She turns to Netherlands. "Tell them to be careful. I'm going to cook up what I can, and then we'll head over to Norway's. I'd like to hope that Denmark just messed with the locks again, but I have a feeling it's something worse."

XXX

After the incident between Russia and Lithuania, the other wolves scattered. They had considered helping Lithuania, but he didn't seem to be in a sharing mood, and then Russia might never forgive them. Instead Estonia, Latvia, and Ukraine ran after the smell of a deer, which seemed a lot safer than a fairy with an angry mate. Only Belarus was crazy enough to go after Russia, and even she was frightened away at the edge of China's land. She caught up while they were tearing apart the deer, so now the four of them are roaming together. It's strange; they don't know who to follow, so they end up wandering, following the smells they like best.

Latvia, especially, is always hungry. As a growing werewolf, he's got a bottomless pit of a stomach. He smells rabbit, too, or something resembling rabbit, so he looks over his shoulder at Estonia and brushes his tail over his nose, teasing. Then he starts leading, searching for the scent of bunny.

Estonia bristles, but all in play. His tail is up and he bounds after Latvia. This is...fun. Exhilarating. They haven't been out like this in years, and they've never been out without Russia. There are all sorts of good smells around them that he could go after if he wanted to. He could tackle his pack-mates to the ground and play wrestle. He could roll around in the dirt, then shake out his fur, or run as fast as he wants. Tongue lolling out, he jumps in front of Raivis and starts racing him.

Latvia barks, rabbit forgotten as Estonia provides a more attractive distraction. He chases him, all happy puppy face, then bounds over him, tackling Estonia to the dirt and rolling with him. Belarus snarls at the pair until an overly enthusiastic Ukraine barrels into her and they, too, end up in the dirt. Belarus snaps at her and scrambles to her feet again, not appreciating the game when they could be hunting. Big Brother would never allow this.

It is fun, this instinct to play that they have denied for so long. Estonia rolls them again, nipping at Latvia and wagging his tail. Then he smells something delicious. His head whips up while he still has Latvia pinned, and all four of them sniff at the air. It's not fairy, more like...sheep. A sheep! And where there is one there are always more.

Latvia, too, looks up, his eyes wide and hungry. Oh, glorious sheep! There's nothing like sheep to fill you. Crouching low, Latvia prowls toward the scent with Estonia right in front of him and the girls not far behind. Sheep - one for each of them, he bets; they travel in herds. More than one for each of them.

There is just one sheep to be seen, and it is standing still in the middle of the woods. It must have wandered - which means there is a herd nearby! And this sheep is a fat sheep. Lost sheep are the easiest to kill, and then they can go find the herd. Maybe there will be a nice side of shepherd to go with it.

Latvia is impatient - as is Belarus, not far behind. Licking his lips, Latvia prowls past Estonia, and on a breath he attacks. Belarus charges behind him, and the other two follow. But before they can get anywhere near the nummy morsel, a huge weighted net drops down on them, effectively pinning them all to the ground.

"G'day."