Seriously, I love all of you.
Anyway~
Enjoy!
Cool morning air sifted through the open door way, the winter sun's feeble strength unable to cast enough warmth to seep through the atmosphere. The bitter breeze whistled through the streets and blew little eddies of snow about, some of it whipping passed the two men standing in front of Renji's home, entering the warm house to melt and wet the floor, forming small puddles around the four sets of feet surrounding the threshold. No one noticed the cold, not the four standing in the house, nor the two standing outside. All was eerily quiet, the only noise permeating the house was the enraged snarling coming from a barely restrained predator, a creature with nothing more than revenge driven murder on his mind as recognition dawned and a threat was perceived.
The instant Grimmjow's first growl had crawled up his throat, threatening and furious, Shiro and Ichigo had raced from the kitchen to see what was going on, meals forgotten on the table. They could feel the anger and rage radiating from the bluenette, swirling through the currents of the air with his guttural warnings and seeping into their very beings. As if feeding on their feline companion's feelings, both humans felt an almost inhuman rage well in them even before they had rounded the hallway entry to see who was standing at Renji's door.
They didn't need to know what Grimmjow was snarling about to trust his instincts and know that they wouldn't like it either, but the twins' anger was only doubled when they caught sight of the beast of a man that they had seen once before under frighteningly similar circumstances. Ichigo and Shiro had wasted very little time in jumping into action, not willing to see the man with the strange sword clash with the werepanther they had befriended for a second time.
With no words needing to be said between the two, Ichigo had grabbed hold of Grimmjow, forcing him away from the dangerous being that had so severely injured the feline before. The runes inked into the tender flesh of his wrists tingled and pulsed slightly as the Caster drew his power close, readying for a counter attack to back up his twin should it be needed. Shiro placed himself between his beloved brother and the feline, knowing that Renji had already been pushed from harm's way by Grimmjow. Guns were drawn, quick as the human eye could follow, and trained on the threat, a glare and sneer on the Undead's handsome but fearsome features.
"Oh my..." Urahara, hands held non-threateningly in the air as a sign of surrender and peace, stared down the barrel of a very shiny hand gun with wide eyes, the weak sunlight more than enough to glint from the high polished and well cared for weapons. He hastily began explaining as threats and accusations were uttered in a lilting, distorted voice. Had he realized sooner that the werecreature Kenpachi had attacked nearly a week prior was the very same they were facing now, he would have left the man at the shop. "He was only pretending to assist the wolf, we needed to infiltrate and collect information to confirm ours suspicions"
The steady rumbling growl deepened in pitch and rose in volume, it's threat and meaning obvious even without words. The only thing keeping the blue haired man from ripping into the odd shopkeeper was the Caster's steady hand laid flat on the feline's bared chest, a gentle gesture that Urahara had little doubt was the only thing keeping him alive at the moment. A truly terrifying thought, if not exciting; there was no way the smaller human would be able to hold the beast back if the bluenette decided to attack.
Shiro sneered, curling an ashen lip in his own seething outrage. "So ya gotta try killin' an innocent man in his own home wit' a damn sword? Or torture little girls an' nail 'em ta trees ta get yer information?" He spat out at the men standing in front of him, his haunted gold on black eyes blazing with hatred that made them dance and churn dangerously in the morning light.
Shiro trained his silver plated guns at the two strangers, his hands as steady and unwavering as his fiery gaze. As the larger of the two shifted slightly, the man who had attacked Grimmjow nearly a week ago, the near-albino's gaze snapped to his form, watching every move he made. This man wouldn't get the chance to hurt someone he cared about again, he would make sure of it. The man would be dead before his sword could taste panther flesh again.
"I would gladly sacrifice a life or two in order to put an end to those monsters." The big man said, his voice deep and rough as he looked over Shiro's shoulder to stare at the blue haired man he knew to be a werecreature. Still, he didn't make the effort to step passed the blond or nearer to the Undead. He had felt the man's bullets before and knew the ghost wouldn't hesitate to shoot a second time.
"What he means is that sometimes one must preform regrettable actions in the interest of preserving a greater number and saving lives" Urahara scrambled to explain before Kenpachi got himself killed. Or the both of them killed. It was obvious that while he didn't know all the details, what the Undead and the bigger man were talking about wasn't going over well. He really should have realized something was off when Kenpachi had so willingly volunteered to accompany him.
When the ashen twin only sneered in his direction but didn't threaten or shoot, Urahara seized the opportunity to continue explaining while he could. Somehow, he hadn't pictured his first meeting with the Fallen deidad going quite like this.
"You see, we have heard rumor that Baraggan, a werewolf, may be trying to start another war, a repeat of the past, a war that would..."
Urahara's sentence was cut short by a quiet curse and he looked passed the pale man with the guns to see the werepanther, still in his human form, launch passed the Caster that had been keeping him back. The shopkeeper, grey eyes wide, tried to step back, but still didn't dare remove his hands from view as the feline pushed the Undead away from the door way. Urahara vaguely noted how gentle the push had been before a big hand latched onto his dark green cloak. He stared up into burning cyan eyes with elongated pupils and watched seething emotion dance in their obviously inhuman depths.
Grimmjow snarled in the odd blond's face, uncaring that he was giving his identity away. He hardly heard the Caster's words or Shiro's protests and questions. He had hardly even realized he was moving until he was standing before the strange man, the implications of his words beginning to settle in his racing mind. Baraggan's words, hissed at him in threat during the previous night's skirmish, flashed in his memory.
'...you'll die with your precious humans this time...'
Shiro and Ichi didn't know what was going on, they hadn't been alive to witness his downfall, they didn't know what the war's purpose had been, but Grimmjow knew.
'... your precious humans...'
How could he not understand?
None too gently, the bluenette fisted a hand in the blond's dark cloak and yanked the human closer, ignoring the startled yelp from the man and the surprised gasps from his humans. Snarling, the werepanther slammed the blond into the wall near the door, the wood paneling of the solid structure shaking under his brute strength.
A sword hissed from a scabbard, but no attack was forthcoming as the metallic click of the hammers being drawn back on twin pistils followed Kenpachi's movements. Two hand guns were trained unwaveringly at him, a resolve and threat readily swirling in the Undead's eyes.
Grimmjow didn't know how this man could have known about that war, how he could have possessed knowledge of an event that had taken place long before this man had been born, knowledge that even the oldest of the race had forgotten, but he knew what the blond was implying. His humans...his Ichigo and Shiro...another war to destroy and enslave humanity.
Urahara's hands finally fell from their peaceful gesture to wrap around the bigger man's wrist as he was held nearly off the floor by the strength of the creature's single arm. He didn't struggle to get out of the hold however, that would have been a futile effort and he knew it. What Rukia had told him was true, he could see what she had meant now that he was faced with the living, breathing beast. The truth was there in the creature's eyes, just as she had said. This was the Fallen deidad from so long ago. And he understood the creature's outrage and fear.
"No." It was a single, growled word, too quiet for anyone other than the blond to make out. A denial of what Grimmjow knew the man was trying to say. He had lost everything once, and now this man was telling him it may happen again.
"I'm afraid it's true..." Urahara said, his voice loosing the sing-song, playful quality now that they were finally getting to business. "Our information indicates that he wishes to try annihilating the human race once again. That is why I am here; too seek you out and hopefully gain your assistance in the second Winter War."
The blond looked passed the large bluenette that still had him pinned threateningly to the wall, the pressure on his chest nearing a painful level as the big fist clenched in the front of his clothing tightened with emotion. Urahara locked gazes with the Caster, his grey eyes shimmering and showing his sincerity and near desperation as they pinned molten sepia. "We will need all the help we can get."
Ichigo stared at the strange blond man, his expressive brown eyes wide as they flitted over to the werepanther's form and back. He could see Shiro's haunting gaze flicking between the man he held at bay with his guns and Grimmjow, the same confusion as shone in the Caster's gaze reflected in their inverted depths.
Grimmjow snarled and bared his teeth, looking white and too sharp for a human. Ichigo could practically feel the man fighting not to veer into his resurrection, fighting the urge and his untamed instincts not to tear into the man before him. He watched as the bluenette's entire body tensed, corded muscle flexing even as he stayed deathly still, staring down the blond man in his grasp.
Finally, after several seconds of stunned and confused silence, the Caster found his voice. "Grimmjow, what's he talking about?"
The bluenette's head whipped around, eyes wild and shinning with something he had no name for, to look at the Caster as if something had just struck him before Grimmjow turned back to the blond. His grip tightened further, knuckles whitening as he unconsciously put even more pressure on the pinned man's chest, pushing him into the wall hard enough for the wood to creak slightly at the pressure. "explain."
The man winced and hissed a quiet breath between his clenched teeth, pain flashing through his features as his hands tightened around Grimmjow's wrist but still he made no move against the bigger man, not even trying to lessen the pressure on his chest that threatened to make breathing difficult.
The tall raven haired man shifted, his grip around the hilt of his sword tightening as he drew it further from the scabbard at his companion's pained expression and sound. Shiro sneered at the man. "Ah ah..." He uttered quietly in warning, his distorted voice taking on a dark and dangerous edge as he gestured with one of his silver plated pistols. "Don' give me an excuse ta make ya taste silver"
The blond in Grimmjow's grasp glanced toward his companion, his grey eyes conveying his seriousness. "Now Kenpachi, do put that thing away" He bid his partner in a soft voice, wary of how the dangerous creature in front of him would react as he spoke. "I believe we may have better luck speaking on friendly terms without it"
Kenpachi's single visible eye stayed locked on his blond companion for a few moments before it rolled and he released the hilt of his sword, letting the jagged, pitted blade slide back into the scabbard. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and outwardly looked bored with the whole situation, though the gleam in his dark eye showed he was ready and alert.
"Why don' ya just give tha' ta me?" Shiro asked, his question sounding more like a demand than a request. He leveled his gaze on the taller man, unwilling to back down and showing that he wasn't afraid of the brute, nor was he afraid to shoot him.
The man looked as though he was going to protest before he was cut off by the blond in Grimmjow's strong and unrelenting grip. "It seems a reasonable request and we have much more important matters at stake than your pride. Do give him the sword."
The man hesitated, looking rather unhappy about the prospect of giving up his weapon when he may very well need it, surrounded by deadly beings as they were. When the blond raised a slim brow in his direction, Kenpachi finally complied. With slow, deliberate movements he unstrapped his sword belt and carefully handed the belt, sheath and sword to the Undead in front of him.
"Now, might we get to business?" The strange blond asked gently, still clutching at the bluenette's wrist and standing on his toes against the wall.
••••••
The den was quiet and peaceful, the occupants deep in safe and secure slumber as the winter sun rose ever higher above the horizon to cast the forest territory in a chilly, golden glow. A lone wolf crept down the earthen corridors, slinking along the wall as if afraid of being caught. Canine ears twitched to take in every little sound that echoed in the dimly lit area, the muted sounds of the Pack at rest. Sharp eyes watched for shadows or other silent visitors awake at this odd hour, roaming the halls and searching out the shadowed door ways, finding nothing.
Lilynette had nothing to fear as she crept around her own den, surrounded by members of the reformed Pack, Starrk's loyal followers. There wasn't a single werewolf within the Pack's ranks that posed a threat to her, yet she slunk against the cool earthen walls and nervously stalked the corridors as she debated awakening her snoozing older sibling.
Starrk had arrived back at the den hours ago, just after she had, as the sun had just been beginning to show it's self and send the nocturnal creatures into hiding for the coming day. He had little to report; evidence of strays nearing and even entering their territory, but none in the immediate area and none of significant power. Nor had any of them been originals; turned humans one and all, nearly worthless unless in droves, Starrk had been surprised that they had even survived the transformation, judging by their signature scents. He had said most of them seemed to carry the madness that once-humans possessed when they were unable to cope with the heightened senses of a werewolf. It was rare for such hapless creatures to live, but when they did live, as short as that life span usually ended up being, they lacked the reasoning and intelligence of either the were-species they were changed into, or of the human they had once been. They usually became mindless drones set on attacking and eating anything they were capable of catching.
Starrk had long ago forbidden lower ranking member from changing humans for that purpose, but it seemed Baraggan didn't have a problem with not heading his warnings from when the old male had still been part of the Pack. In fact, it seemed the rogue was going out of his way to find humans that were strong enough to survive, but not strong enough to become true, healthy werecreatures that would possess their own intelligence and mind. It was a dangerous game to be playing.
Of course, the young she-wolf knew why Starrk hadn't found evidence of Baraggan or his higher ranking cronies, the ones that posed a real threat to the Pack. The traitorous rouge had been on the opposite side of their extensive territory stalking and eventually cornering her. It only stood to reason that the male's small pack had been somewhere near by, though she hadn't run into them and as far as she knew, neither had the werepanther.
Still shaken from her unexpected encounter with two very deadly and opposing creatures, the she-wolf neared her sleeping sibling's chambers as she debated reporting to him what had happened. She knew he would want to know of the fight. Starrk would be pleased to hear only the traitor had received any real wounds from the short battle, but she also knew he would be upset that she had fled the den without an escort, that she had deliberately disobeyed what he had told her.
Scared of her Alpha and sibling's reprimands as she was, Lilynette found herself peering into Starrk's room, hesitating in the sleeping wolf's darkened door way. Even as she debated turning back and forgetting the short, chance meeting with the werecat and the rogue, the she-wolf couldn't shake the feeling that it was more significant than she thought it was. Instinct told her that Starrk needed what little information she had to give him, even if she didn't know what that information was or why.
She huffed a silent breath, the air puffing gently through her nostrils and turned to leave. If nothing else, she could wait and tell Starrk of the short battle later, after he had woken up. He was never in a good mood when awakened prematurely and her punishment was sure to be more severe than had she left him to sleep.
As she was preparing to leave the doorway and let the Pack leader have his much needed and much desired sleep, a curious, sleep heavy voice carried to her through the dark, freezing her mid step.
"What is it, Lilynette?" Starrk yawned, his keen grey eyes barely illuminated in the dark room as he looked over at his younger sibling. Her posture and stance showed her nervousness, but an odd gleam shone in her light colored eyes, a gleam that hinted at excitement, adrenaline and fear.
Lilynette flinched slightly, dropping her ears and head in a submissive and apologetic gesture. She watched as Starrk's silhouetted figure uncurled it's self in the shadows and the Alpha sat up, stretching his wiry yet muscled body and yawning before gesturing her over to him. She, of course, scurried over, not daring to go against what he said, and curled up beside the larger wolf.
The moment Lilynette neared him, Starrk could tell something more than just fear was bothering his younger sibling. Dark nostrils flared as he took in her scent, a slight undercurrent of another mingled with her own. The smells were familiar but faint, barely clinging to her fur and his eyes narrowed as he tried to place them.
Lilynette whimpered almost silently, tucking her tail before sitting and facing the Alpha. There was no getting out of it now. "I went exploring while you were out..." The young wolf began in a quiet, almost timid voice. She felt the bigger wolf bridle with expected anger and disappointment, so she continued before Starrk had a chance to stop her. "I stayed in Pack territory! But the traitor ambushed me while I was exploring..."
Starrk's anger toward Lilynette melted away and was replaced by hatred and threat toward Baraggan as she spoke. The traitor would die a horrible death if he had touched Lilynette. He gently grabbed hold of Lilynette's shoulders and forced her to look at him. "Are you hurt? Did he harm you?" His words were growled but the worry easily shone through his anger.
The she-wolf quickly shook her head in answer. "He didn't get the chance, the werepanther stopped him."
"Grimmjow?" Starrk questioned, slight disbelief obvious in his quiet tone. Why would Grimmjow be in their territory, let alone be wiling to throw himself against Baraggan? He had never showed any particular fondness toward any wolf and Lilynette was no exception. The young female had often gotten herself into trouble and tormented the feline in anyway she could. Even with their new truce, he hardly expected the feline to suddenly rush to their aid or get involved with their business at all. And Starrk certainly understood and wouldn't hold it against him.
The Alpha's sibling quickly nodded her head in answer before she continued. "He attacked the rogue from the trees" There was a hint of awe in her voice that had a slight smirk crossing Starrk's features. It must have been something for the young wolf to witness fighting tactics that weren't wolf oriented, something different than she was used to seeing.
The Alpha wolf listened to Lilynette's recounting of the short but surprisingly violent battle. She told him how the old male seemed to know where Starrk and his scouting party was, and that he knew she had been alone and how Grimmjow had somehow crept passed the wolf's defenses through the trees to spring on him from above. The she-wolf told Starrk about the lucky shot Baraggan had gotten in, managing to pin the feline to a tree and how she hadn't been able to stand by and had pounced.
A bit of pride welled in him when he was told that his younger sibling had stood up to Baraggan and helped the feline she had always loathed so much, even though it had been an incredibly dangerous thing for her to do. She was lucky she hadn't been seriously injured, receiving nothing more than a few bruises, and lucky Grimmjow was a tough creature and had recovered quickly.
He eventually learned that Baraggan had fled, limping and bleeding in the snow, back the way he had come, shouting threats to the werepanther the entire way. She couldn't remember the traitor's exact words, she only remembered he had been threatening the cat's life and the humans he was so infatuated with. Lilynette herself had exchanged only a few words with the panther before fleeing back to the den as he had suggested, leaving Grimmjow alone in the middle of their territory, kneeling in the snow.
After Lilynette had finished reporting to him what had happened, including all the details she could remember, Starrk had assured her that he wasn't mad at her anymore, that there would be no punishment for her disobeying him, but warned her against leaving the den on her own again. Next time she may not be so lucky, it was already strange that Grimmjow had been that near their territory, let alone had crossed the border in order to help her.
Starrk told the young wolf to return to bed and watched as she happily and gratefully scrambled up and left the room, her tail swaying gently behind her, no doubt pleased and surprised that she wasn't reprimanded as she expected she would be. The Alpha yawned again, jaw cracking in the quiet room and dangerous fangs gleaming the dark.
Starrk climbed to his feet, stretching as he went, and made his way to his door. The Alpha wolf wandered down the empty corridors in search of his second, padding on silent feet as to not awaken the other sleeping members.
Baraggan's transgressions had been allowed to continue for far too long. His actions against Lilynette had proved he was willing to do anything to get back at Starrk and a desperate creature was hard to predict and inherently dangerous to all around it.
Starrk heaved an annoyed and tired sigh. So much for his sleep. He just hoped the drifting snow hadn't covered too much of the traitorous wolf's bloody trail so that he would still be able to track him and hopefully hunt him down.
••••••
Urahara sat in a kitchen chair that had been dragged into the main room of the red head's house, hands in his lap and visible as he watched the man with blue hair and even bluer eyes stalk and pace the room like a caged predator. Bare feet made not a sound on the carpeted floor and solid muscle rippled under taunt, golden skin. The bluenette's movements were incredibly fluid and graceful, far beyond that of a normal man, but then, that was to be expected. The shopkeeper desperately wanted to see the beast's resurrection, but didn't dare ask just yet, not while they were still discussing such intense and important matters.
Sitting on a couch across from the blond shopkeeper, the Caster glanced over to the bluenette for what had to have been the hundredth time, too many emotions to count showing behind his eyes. He took a deep breath while he wrapped his mind around all that the blond man had told them. It was a tough pill to swallow, but Grimmjow seemed to have all the evidence he needed to conclude that the blond could be right and telling them the truth and Ichigo trusted the cat. The Caster pushed his shoulder length orange hair back and away from his face before he spoke, his voice a little timid in the heavy, silent room. "You're saying there is going to be a war...between the humans and werewolves...?"
The blond man nodded, a soft, slight smile that showed more dismay than happiness resting on his lips. "Yes. There is a rather large group that believes mankind should be second to the much longer lived were-races, that we are inferior and should remain as nothing more than fodder. The task was attempted once before, long ago, but failed because of your friend here" Urahara glanced over at the feline, gauging his reactions to what was being said. It was impossible for the three young men before him to not know what the bluenette was, but he was unsure just how much the creature once known as La Pantera had told them.
Shiro spun around where he sat so that he could look at Grimmjow, some of the cat's words from what seemed like forever ago filtering back through his mind. Grimmjow had broken down in his temple and eluded to a war that had killed his followers and nearly ended him as well. "was this the same war tha'..." His question trailed off as he realized just how sensitive a subject he was asking the feline to tell them about.
"It was" Grimmjow's voice was rough and low as he answered, not needing to hear the rest of the near-albino's question to know what he was asking. He stopped his pacing and turned to pin the strange blond with his otherworldly gaze, his eyes cold and hard as diamond. He couldn't let this happen, not again. He may not have had the faith of thousands backing he and his power, but he was still a threat and still strong and would sure as hell fight with everything he had.
"I will fight, but they stay out of it." He pointed toward the three humans sitting across from the blond and his partner. The werepanther knew the wolves had to be stopped, he knew he had to fight again for the sake of his humans and their kind, but he wasn't going to drag Ichigo, Shiro or Renji into the battle field with him. He wasn't willing to see them harmed or worse.
Urahara matched the Fallen's stare with his own unwavering gaze. He knew he couldn't argue against the bluenette's demands, not if he wanted to live to see and fight in the inevitable battle, but they would need the Caster and his Undead twin at the very least, and the tattooed red head would be useful as well if he had a decent shot.
"Grimmjow...we are going to help as well..." Ichigo started, determination in his sepia gaze and voice.
"Ya can' expect us ta hear this crap an not fight too, 'specially if yer ganna be" Shiro finished his twin's thought. "Sides, ya can' have all the fun a killin' wolves"
Grimmjow snarled, but the expression and sound held no heat or threat, not like when he viciously gave voice to his rage. "This isn't going to be a hunting party, we'll be going against a small army. Creatures that are not nearly so fragile as humans, they don't kill easily without silver, and they will be led by a wolf that has lived for centuries..."
"Well, we have plenty of silver" Renji spoke up for the first time since he had opened the door only to have the large werepanther throw him away from the men that now sat in his home. He looked over at the odd blond. "Aren't you the owner of that weapon's shop?"
"I am." The man bowed slightly without rising from the seat he had been told not to move from, a command he thoroughly intended to heed. "Urahara at your service, and we have the silver ammunition and weapons covered; enough to arm most of the citizens."
"An' King's nearly got his magic perfected so tha' he targets only wolf" Shiro added. Ichigo and Grimmjow could continue working to flush out the Caster's abilities to target only werewolves so that the werepanther would be free to battle without being affected by the crippling magic.
"A Caster's skills would be of great use in this battle...Especially one proficient in the area Ichigo specializes in..." Urahara said quietly, still watching how the bluenette reacted. He could see the protective anger reflected in the man's very stance at is words, like the big man was on the verge of tearing into him just for uttering his agreement. Looking back at the Caster sitting across from him, he addressed the orange haired young man. It was hard to believe that he was as skilled as he was at his young age, and with no one showing him how to do the things he had learned. "I also have books that may be able to help you. They don't make much sense to me, but then, I don't have the natural abilities you have."
"That would be great" Ichigo lit up a bit at that. He had never been able to find much that could offer him some guidance in his arts. Perhaps the references Urahara had to offer would prove the difference between his meager skills and becoming a true Caster, with the power and ability to protect those around him, maybe he would be able to put a halt to this upcoming war before it even started.
Grimmjow growled under his breath, hating that he wouldn't be able to stop Ichigo and Shiro from joining in the battle. He didn't need to be told that they wouldn't sit on the side lines to see it was the truth. The feline had already known that both men could be incredibly stubborn, but their determination in this unexpected situation was nearly palpable. And he couldn't deny what the shopkeeper had said; Ichigo's abilities may end up being a deciding factor in the battle and may end the war.
Of course, where ever the Caster went, his twin would follow and Shiro was undeniably skilled with his hand guns, an expert marksmen. They wouldn't be going against humans and the near-albino wouldn't hesitate with his shots like Grimmjow had seen him do in the past. He would be brutal in his aim, and the red head would no doubt join in. The werepanther had seen the man hold a gun before, he at least knew what he was doing even if he had never really hunted or killed werewolves before. And with the silver the blond shopkeeper claimed to have, you didn't need to hit a vital area, just some place the wolf couldn't tear away before the cursed metal reached the blood stream.
Still, the thought of either of them being harmed nearly killed him. Grimmjow's dreams came flooding back through his mind, every brutal detail crystal clear and in vicious, unforgiving color. The once-deidad forced himself to take in a deep, even breath. The visions were only dreams, nightmares and things of his imagination spurred on by the words Baraggan had snarled at him, words he now understood the meaning of. He would insure that Ichigo and Shiro would remain unharmed during the battle and he would personally be the one to kill the bastard wolf leading the fight.
And then a thought struck him. "I may be able to get the Pack to help."
"You think Starrk would be willing to drag his Pack into a war? Didn't he just considerably thin his ranks after he found that traitor?" Ichigo asked, looking up at his feline companion. He didn't know much about the leader of the werewolf pack they had just entered a truce with, didn't know him as well as Grimmjow knew him, but he did know that the wolf's numbers were down and Ichigo didn't think he really stood to loose much with the depletion of the human race.
"He did, but he remained mostly neutral during the last War... something he has regretted for a very long time. Starrk is much more observant and caring than he seems" There was something in Grimmjow's tone that told the twin's he was lost in thought and memory while he was talking to them, it wasn't bitter or angry, just a touch sad and they knew it must have had to do with his Fall.
"Who's Starrk?" Urahara couldn't help himself, his curiosity was really beginning to get the better of him. It was a name he had heard once before, mentioned by Kenpachi after the fight he now knew had been against the werepanther, but Kenpachi hadn't known who it was either.
"Starrk is the leader of the largest wolf pack in the area" Grimmjow watched the blond's grey eyes widen in surprise. Surely having the Pack back them up would insure victory. "He recently purged his ranks of a traitor that had been plotting to over throw him and take the Pack for his own."
The werepanther made to sit down on the floor in front of the Caster and Undead. Wouldn't Starrk just love hearing that the traitorous male was plotting to nearly destroy the human race. The mutt had probably planned to take the Pack and force it to do his dirty work in the war. Grimmjow leaned back against the couch, positioning himself between where Ichigo and Shiro sat, throwing an arm across the tops of each one's legs and trying to calm himself. He was still keyed up with instinctual and wild rage born of the news of the upcoming war and worry for the men he cared about.
"Ahh, I see" Urahara said, his sing-song tone back as he, unthinkingly, brought his fan back out from his sleeve to hide his intrigued smirk. The blue haired creature sitting on the floor in front of him stiffened, piercing gaze cold and watching his every move. The shopkeeper paused, briefly considering re-hiding the fan before he dismissed the idea and continued speaking. "And this Starrk character is a friend of yours, then? Even though he is a werewolf?"
"Something like that" Grimmjow said, still eyeing the strange man and his odd fan.
"When can we meet with him?" The blond asked behind his fan, his excitement hardly concealed. To think, not only was he speaking with the once mighty deidad he had been searching for most of his adult life, but he may get to meet and speak with a werewolf, and not one of the normal, mindless eating machines he usually ran into, but one that seemed to have history with the panther.
"Nnoitra would never let the two of you anywhere near the Alpha." Grimmjow calmly told the blond. He curled his lip, flashing an over sharp fang in distaste. "You reek of silver."
••••••
Nnoitra snarled as he silently stalked through the dead, snow covered forest. The white precipitation continued to fall in lazy, thick flakes to the ground, settling in drifts around the trunks of trees and fallen logs. It wasn't snowing very heavily, but the fall was steady and already nearly reached the lanky wolf's knees in some places. The second had his doubts that they would find any trace of the blood trail Lilynette claimed the rogue wolf had left behind hours ago.
They had to be close to the area the young she-wolf had indicated, though. He glanced up, lone eye searching for the shadowed figure of his Alpha. Starrk searched several meters away and nearly out of sight, creeping silently through the trees, his nose testing the scents riding the cold air while his eyes scanned the surrounding area. Sensitive ears flicked about, keeping track of the few small animals that scurried about on top of the crust of snow, careful not to come within striking distance of the two dangerous wolves.
Nnoitra suppressed the urge to scratch at the scar tissue around his missing left eye as the bitter wind bit at it unforgivingly, and went back to searching. He scanned the ground, already knowing that whatever blood left behind would have been covered by the blowing snow, lost for them to see or to smell. Tilting his head to the side slightly in canine fashion, the black werewolf raised his gaze, judging about how tall the smaller feline werecreature was. He scanned the dried out bark of the surrounding trees where the snow hadn't drifted to cover it, finally finding something of interest.
The bigger wolf raised his dark muzzle to the sky, letting out a short, low key howl to call Starrk's attention before navigating through the deep snow to the tree in question. Deep, diagonal slash marks cut through the bark, bitting into the wood of the tree. The marks were too close together to be made by a wolf. The talons needed to create these could have only come from the feline and they were much too fresh to have been made during a past battle, the living wood showing through was still green and unweathered by the brutal season.
Starrk trotted up to his towering second's side, shaking the light dusting of snow from his thick, brownish grey coat. He sniffed at the marks cutting through the tree before straightening and glancing around, searching for more markers and signs of the struggle and the direction the traitor had fled.
With as much snow as was coating the ground, it would have been easier to seek out the feline and simply ask him which direction Baraggan had fled in. However, Lilynette had told him Grimmjow had came from the direction of the village. The werepanther no doubt left in that direction as well. Starrk had no desire to see the village, he hardly even remembered what his human form looked like and wasn't about to try slipping from his resurrection now. Unlike the werecat, the Alpha, like most werewolves, wouldn't willingly veer to his human form. Grimmjow was an oddity in that respect, as the feline was in many others.
The Alpha roamed the surrounding area, skipping the direction the village lay in. Baraggan wouldn't have fled that way, nor would he have chosen the direction of Pantera territory. Even with the feline distracted as he was with his humans most days, no creature dared set foot on the fiercely guarded territory for fear the clever creature was stalking about.
Starrk tracked through the snow, scanning each tree, each dried out and leafless bush. Scattered and broken bark jutted from the otherwise flawless snow surrounding the base of a thick tree, blue-black fur caught in some of the crevasses etched into the tree. At least the searching wolves knew they were in the right location.
They continued searching, letting nothing escape their notice. Starrk and Nnoitra set off at slow, steady pace in the direction of the few signs they could find; dried or freezing blood smeared across the trunk of a tree, greying tufts of fur snagged in the brush, anything the traitor had left behind in his scramble to get wherever he was going.
As Nnoitra and Starrk trotted in the direction they were sure the traitor had gone, Starrk rose his muzzle to the sky and released a long, drawn out howl that shattered the silent peace of the cool morning and made his intent clear. The wooded territory fell silent in the wake of his hollow declaration, the few creatures that had braved the snow no longer scurried about. The rodents and few birds that stuck around during the winter season froze, hunkered against whatever shelter they could find, unwilling and fearful to move.
Nnoitra sneered, baring massive fangs. Dark nostrils flared to take in the scent of several strays, the same pathetic werewolves that he and the Alpha had caught hints of the previous night, changed humans that had hardly survived the transformation. He snarled and gave a quiet growl of dislike and distaste as he and the Alpha slowed their trot to a creeping, stalking pace, weaving between leafless trees and through dried, dead brush.
It didn't take long to bring the traitor into view. The injured wolf sat amidst a half dozen, hulking non-originals, a slight, cruel smile curving his greying lips. Blood had dried to mat his aged coat, but none of the gashes looked serious enough to keep him down. The wolves surrounding him snapped at one another for no particular reason, drawing the occasional yelp or whine of pain, hardly noticing the newcomers as they bickered wordlessly.
"If you've come looking for a fight, Starrk, Nnoitra, than you have found one." Baraggan spoke in a quiet, confident voice. His pleased, sadistic smile showed in his tone as all the strays ceased their previous activities, heads snapping around to pin the two originals that didn't belong in their midst. Dulled, lifeless yellow eyes showed nothing but madness driven hunger and a cruel desire to quench their thirst. Scared and torn ears laid flat as the strays bared their curved fangs, snarling at Starrk and his second. Drool hung in thick, slimy strands from jaws, dripping down the beasts' chins and going unnoticed by the pitiful creatures.
"Baraggan...you have gone too far..." Starrk snarled at the rogue wolf as he and Nnoitra dropped into defensive crouches. Starrk positioned himself on Nnoitra's blind side, readying for what they both knew was to come; a fast paced and bloody struggle. Years of partnership and fighting experience allowed them to perfectly compliment each other.
They would win this fight, all three of the originals knew it. The strays were too lost in mindless hunger to think for themselves, too crazed and fevered to take notice of who they were being pitted against, to plan their attacks or coordinate their moves. These were true monsters, the deranged animals humans associated with werewolves. It would be mercy to kill the wretched, unnatural creatures.
Baraggan stepped backward, giving his little raiding party a little more space. As soon as he bid them, the strays would launch at the Alpha and second, they would go into a frenzy, desperate to sate the hunger they could never satisfy. They would die, but that was fine. It was meager sacrifice to potentially injure either of these two Pack members. Both were irreplaceable to the Pack, and should they fall, the Pack would be his for the taking, or at the very least, out of his way.
"This is just the beginning, Starrk" The traitorous male snarled at the Alpha. As the old male turned to leave, his small group attacked the smarter originals. He could easily stand to loose these wolves, these mindless drones. He had an entire army of the maddened strays awaiting his every call and command.
Be sure to feed the Shadow and tell me what you think~! ...please?...
ALSO, I shall be doing a Q&A!
So ask away, everyone! It can be any random question you can think of; about this story, about one of my others, things pertaining to my writing, things not pertaining to my writing, whatever you would like know!
I will post the questions with the answers in a seprate file later on!