~Alfred~
Alfred yawns as the wagon rolls along the trail, already sleepy.
The sun was setting, sending deep reds and blues into the sky. Blinking his eyes open he sees a man, hunched over on the side of the road.
Burt had always said Alfred would always help people in need, no matter the cost, and it was true. Alfred drew the horses to a stop, climbing down from his perch. "Mister, do you need help?"
A deep toned reply comes from the bent figure, "Come here lad, help me stand."
Alfred scrambles down and grasps the man's arm, pulling him up. A gleam of white and Alfred is frozen in shock.
Fangs protruded from the man's mouth. Alfred lets go, and starts to run.
The voice calls a taunting behind him "Where you going, lad?"
Alfred grabs at the wagon, trying to board. Claws pull him back and he falls onto the ground, and the horses scream in terror and take off.
Alfred rolls over to run, but is held in place.
Alfred's own blue eyes met the brown eyes of a wolf.
There was blood on it's teeth and lips, and a wet spot in it's fur. Alfred tries to pull away, desperate to escape his captor's grasp.
The wolf leans in, biting Alfred's neck. Alfred screams as he feels the fangs break past his skin.
As it pulls back, Alfred faints. Before he did though, Alfred saw a gleam of triumph in the wolf's eyes.
~Mathew~
Mathew was in an Inn, ready for bed. His stuffed bear sat on his bed, and his travel bag peeked out from under the bed.
Already happy from the meal he had, Mathew opens the window to let the breeze flow in.
A call broke the night, making Mathew tense. Hairs on the back of his neck rising, he heard the message that was for him.
"I, Alex Hunter, of the Shadow pack have marked a boy to be one of us. Mathew, I know you're near. Come help, you know you can't leave this poor child alone."
Mathew knew he shouldn't listen to his uncle, but he could not leave the bitten one to die. Because he could; sometimes the bitten would die from their body not accepting the change.
Mathew raced out of his room and down the stairs. I don't have to get dressed, what good timing. Mathew thinks as he slows to a fast walk.
Out the door, and down the road, Mathew walked quickly. Shops still open at night, called to him. Mathew just walked faster, reaching a dirt road.
Two horses attached to a wagon had gotten themselves hung on a low tree branch.
Both horses were panting, coats soaked with sweat.
At this sight Mathew ran. His speed was inhuman to say the least.
A flash of dirty blond hair lay before him. Reaching it's side, Mathew saw a handsome man of similar facial structure as him.
A small pool of blood surrounded the young man's head, staining part of his hair a sick red.
The bite was still visible, but already healing. A good sign if there ever was one.
Mathew balanced the teen on his shoulder, dragging the other back down the road easily. So much for a quiet and normal night.