((whoo double update. now this rare occurrence has only come up since the au finally started giving me some more feels. gotta keep the suspense for myself lol. but tbh, I'm getting a little lazy with the writing I think. i have the feeling I missed out on a lot of details in this chapter, while still somehow putting a ton of unnecessary details at the same time? anyways, sorry if anything doesn't make sense. (especially the stuff about feeling pain which is something I really don't know very much about. and I don't really want to learn any more of tbh… okay ill stop rambling…))

About a month had gone by. Though, the attacks still persisted. They happened just about as often as Bonnibel used to visit. Maybe two or three times a week, Marceline would smell the stench of sweat and hear the taunts from afar. By then she would just drop whatever she's doing and throw in a "Do your worst," before the wolf hunters would come by to throw in all sorts of punches and kicks. Sometimes when she would stay up in the treetops, they'd just barely miss her.

Small bruises never bothered her since she'd come to the lazy conclusion that they merely needed an excuse to relieve stress on any punching bag they could find. Most of them only managed to appear on her arms since she was able to block majority of the weak attempts of harm anyways. In fact, she'd even sometimes see the attacks as simple sparring or entertainment for herself.

Though, the pain really started coming eventually, when they noticed she'd stopped caring. One day, the men came equipped with rings. But not just any rings; those made with silver. And as myth goes, wolves were weak to silver.

As they rushed at her, not only did she feel the pain upon contact of each punch, but the rings branded her every time. It was now that Marceline really began to yelp at times with slight pain. They laughed harder.

And after that ambush, Marceline sat amongst the leaves and stared at her forearms, where she'd guarded her face from the burns. Her skin was marked red all over. Each of those marks stung individually. "Great… I guess these wolf hunters are smarter than I thought…"

A few more attacks and the burns got gradually worse. Of course, she understood by now that this wasn't just any fight club. They obviously had some purpose.

After thinking hard enough, it hit her. "The farmer!" she exclaimed in a moment of realization. "Fuck, why the hell didn't I see it sooner?" she thumped her head. So she now defined her current situation as the farmer's way constantly trying to get back at her for embarrassing her in front of Bonnibel.

But upon further concentration, she remembered the whole reason Bonnibel had come to her in the first place on the day she'd left. To warn her.

'Warn me about what…? The wolf hunters? Marshall? Or was that a threat…?' She began to wonder whether Bonnibel knew about all of this or not. Did Bonnibel rat her usual location out?

'No…' she responded to the thought, 'no, she would never do that… would she…?'

Being a lone wolf is supposed to mean secrecy from the world, but it also means vulnerability; as being separated from the pack would be extremely dangerous. With all of these questions with endless possibilities, there's always gotta be an answer. But she wasn't going to find them with the hunters on her tail.

The burns were getting more painful and they were literally all over. She described them as annoying more than anything else, but they still really hurt. Marceline knew she had to get out of there. She had a feeling things would only get worse. Especially as she remembered one of her biggest reasons for running away was to escape any wolf hunters in the first place. After considering all of her options, including possibly even going to her last resort.

On the night after another attack, she stared up at the sky while resting in her usual hiding spot. The moon was full again. Still beautiful. She searched the sky and found a memory. Orion was watching over her. And she wondered if Bonnibel was staring up at him too.

Marceline looked at her arm where fresh burns and scars were scattered. And she made the decision.

She raised her chin up and began to howl. She always thought howling was pretty lame, but there was only one reason she'd ever do it. Dozens of howls resounded from throughout the wood in response. One was far more familiar than the rest. She jumped down, and ran to follow it.

All of the trees she passed were familiar too. She traveled rather far. Actually, really far. How long did she keep on going the day she left home?

And eventually, she came to a stop. Panting, she looked before her. As expected, man stood there. Marceline brought her attention to his face and saw the same fierce eyes, sharp fangs, and pointed ears from her childhood. (Though maybe a few more wrinkles lined his face than from before.) It was Hunson.

"So you finally came back…" His voice was deeper than she'd remembered. "I'm sure living without the pack wasn't as pleasant as you'd thought?"

"I missed you too Hunson…"'Should've known that'd be the first sarcastic phrase out of his mouth,' she grinned to herself.

From behind him, about a dozen other figures peeked from behind tree trunks with glowing eyes. Slowly, they all appeared. Most being middle-aged men, the wolves all showed themselves.

"Looks like the pack's all here…" she chuckled nervously, "or… the remainder of it anyways…" There wasn't any response to that. "Is Marshall still around?"

"No," Hunson answered, "he went solo a little bit after you did."

Marceline stared at him a little bit, then started to glance at everything that surrounded her. Same trees, same brush, nearly the same people, and the den was still there too. She kind of smiled at the fact that nothing had really changed. She was finally home.

She could've hugged Hunson, but not only was the mood a little dull and awkward, but being the Alpha, Hunson never liked hugs from anybody.

"Looks like you figured out how to grow out your fangs after so long," he noticed.

She looked back at Hunson. "Uh… yeah…"

"I'm proud you did it on your own." It sounded like an afterthought, but it made Marceline a little happier and it broke the ice too.

He spoke of many things, like how life's been and what's been happening. He even threw in his old phrases nagging Marceline on how irresponsible she must've been. He always felt like the father she never had. The wolves slowly went back to whatever they'd been doing; some going into the den, some leaving to hunt, and others staying under the moonlight to converse.

Marceline eventually noticed Hunson's bare neck. Her eyes flickered between his face, shirt collar, and the space in between. It felt like something should've been there. He wore his tattered suit and had the same hairstyle, but she still felt like he was missing something. What was it..?

Eventually, Hunson led her into the den as well. The dirty cave-like structure was still the same as she'd remembered.

"We left your spot the way you left it." Hunson pointed at the corner she's so boldly claimed as her own as a young child. She walked over to the dirt pile she used to roll around in at the back of the den where the concaving ceiling met the floor. The memory of her picking the exact spot and bragging about it to all of her friends made her grin. "Thanks…" she sat on the dusty ground, took up a handful of dirt, and felt it run through her fingers.

Hunson noticed the burns on her arms and already assumed what'd happened. He frowned. "Somebody go get her some healing herbs from the hidden gardens," he ordered. A pair of wolves looked over and ran off without hesitation.

"You should probably get some rest, Marceline. I think you've probably been through a lot, judging by the state you're in."

She laughed a little in reminiscence. "Y'know Hunson, you're still as serious as ever. You should know that a few burns like these don't bother me that much now that I'm older."

"But you're still as childish as ever. Burns like that wouldn't have bothered you even if you were still younger," he cracked a smile the way he used to and walked away.

Most of the wolves were still around and active. But Marceline really was tired. She hadn't been around so many friendly faces in so long. She'd decided to save the questions she'd had for later. For now, she felt safe. Even though the pack will never be the same having missing several of its former members, she was glad to be back.