I'm loving the way people responded to the last chapter, and, again, I do believe that everyone is entitled to his or ehr own opinion. I'm actually kinda glad I got some people riled up. Also, for you who think that i hate Sam nad he's always a jerk, try reading some of my other stories. I personally suggest Good, Split (both of them), and On Angel's Wings (especially the fourth one). I know he's a good guy. Really, I do.
In other news... sorry about the shortness of this chapter.
Dean ran through the forest, the wolf in front of him down on all fours, racing through the brush. He followed it, always careful to leave a trail for Sammy. He jumped from tree to tree, letting his claws dig deep into the bark, using each tree as a launching point. He was gaining on the freak that had bitten him, gaining faster than he'd thought he would.
The wolf turned suddenly and pounced at him, just as it had done two months before. Dean pushed himself off of the tree and away from the attack as the grey wolf went sailing past. He landed on all fours and spun, ready for the fight.
o0o0o0o0o
Sam heard the snarling before he saw the fight. He slowed his run to a quick trot, then finally to a slow walk, stepping carefully around the twigs that could give away his presence. His gun still drawn, he inched his way around a tree trunk to see what was happening.
The two werewolves were on top of each other, rolling around on the forest floor like they had the night before. Only this time, the grey one wasn't backing down. Dean managed to push it away, causing its skull to slam into a protruding rock. In the temporary lull in the battle, he looked over in Sam's direction, as if he knew that his brother was there.
The lull didn't last long, though, and the other wolf pounced, pushing Dean's head into the ground and stirring up dirt. It latched its teeth onto the back of his neck, eliciting a howl of pain from the hunter.
Dean struggled to his feet and slammed himself up against a tree, trapping the other wolf between it and his body. He looked back over at Sam, and in the moonlight that filtered through the thick leaves, the younger man could make out his brother's injuries.
His fur was matted with blood and he was missing a chunk of one of his ears. One eye was shut and surrounded by fresh blood, the fur gone from the area. He wondered if Dean had lost it.
The grey wolf shoved Dean away, using the tree to set up the launch, and was on him in and instant. Only when Sammy realized that his brothers arms were pinned helplessly beneath his body did he remember that he was supposed to be shooting the wolf.
As razor sharp claws dug deep into his brother's back, Sam aimed his pistol and fired, sending a silver bullet at the grey wolf, which had, apparently, not noticed his presence until it was too late.
The creature fell to the forest floor, blood leaking slowly from the hole in the side of its head. Sam approached it slowly, keeping his gun trained on the still form, even though the bullet had whizzed straight through the creature's brain and there was no chance of it still being alive.
He poked at it with his toe once before emptying his clip into the furry body. He watched with disgust as it slowly morphed back into the form of an older man, one who no longer had a face.
Sam turned to his brother, expecting to see a bloody, naked, probably very embarrassed young man. Instead, he saw only fur, blood, and a glinting amulet. "Dean?" Dean looked up at him, groaning as he moved his head. "You're still a werewolf."
Dean let out a weak whimper, one that sounded like a whistle in the back of his throat, and then let his head drop. Sammy glanced back at the old man once more before carefully working his arm around his brother's torso and helping the older man to his feet. He wrapped an arm under Dean's armpit and threw his brother's arm over his shoulder. Stumbling under the older man's weight, he left the forest.