Arctic Wolf sits up when Storm Shadow opens the door with Duke close behind him. She looks down, unable to fully meet their eyes, her arm itching. Storm Shadow hopefully knows her arms are the only place where there's ink, where the tattoos are. Her steel eyes eventually meet Duke's, and she knows she's in a serious situation with Duke right now, and she has a good deal of questions to avoid. "I can't betray the Family, so don't bother."

"Is there anything you can tell us about Wind Rider, Wolf?" Duke asks, and she stays completely still. "C'mon, Wolf. Don't close up now. We need to know these things or else. You know what'll happen if he gets here. You know the ultimate loss of life that can occur if you don't tell us a bit of what you know. You're a good person-"

Wolf jumps up, hitting him easily and knocking him to the floor. She gets down, holding him by his throat. "I am not a good person, damn it." She stands, lifting him with her though he stays on his knees when she's at full height, holding him just under her chin. She slams him against the wall, still choking him. "I can't tell you anything! Don't you get that, Duke?! I am officially offline now. Do you know what they'll do to me, to any of you, if I'm here when they find me?"

Storm Shadow holds his katana at her neck. "Let him down." She refuses, closing her eyes. Holding Duke where he is is hard for her, but it's not the physical pain she's used to. Something else is holding her back from killing him, something she hasn't felt before. "Arctic Wolf." The ravenette loosens her grip, letting him down just a little bit. "Wolf, let him down."

She releases him entirely, her back to Storm Shadow as she looks straight down, trying to find something of herself from just a few hours ago. Duke crawls away, but it's not in fear or disgust. It's just to get air. Wolf doesn't understand; people have always crawled away begging for their life. She turns into the sword, letting the tip bite her throat. "I'm sorry." Her voice is empty, and the idea of 'sorry' is empty too. She can see Storm Shadow tensing up. "I'm sorry you don't understand that I'm useless here."

She moves past him and into her bed, clasping her hands over her stomach and closing her eyes, ignoring the feeling of something wet sliding down her cheek as someone slides into the bed with her, a hand on top of hers. She clenches her fists tight enough to hint him to back off, but Storm Shadow doesn't. "I told you last night, Wolf, and now I'm going to very blunt. I'm not leaving until you know who you are." He clenches both of her hands together, and Wolf can feel the strength in his hand and arm.

Duke is next to her, and she can hear him finally get his breath back. Wolf feels particularly bad for doing what she did because it was Duke. She's been nothing but rude and mean and hateful to Duke since she got there, and he was still trying to understand everything about her since it was damn near impossible to know what was going through her head. "Wolf, I get it. You think you're alone, that the Family is all there ever was and ever will be, but that isn't the case. Tell us how to defend against Wind Rider."

Wolf's lips perk up in a sad, grim smile. "There isn't a way to defend against Rider. You don't defend yourself against him. You drag yourself into the next day. Rider has his name for a reason, just as we all do." She opens her eyes, but there's something more animal-like than anything either of them have ever seen in a person, in a beast, and even in their worst moments. "I was named for the hunt. I am your best bet. Changing me won't help you survive."

Duke and Storm Shadow stay where they are for a long time, but they find their way to the door hours later. "Leave her alone. I want her to have full privacy and no distractions," Duke orders. "If she really is our only chance for survival, she needs to be as psycho as she can be." His comment about her being psycho hurts, and he sighs. "I didn't mean psycho. I meant... Her, I guess. Just, leave her alone and let her get all of this shit straight in her head."

Wolf sits up, focusing on every movement around her as far as she can hear and see. Her eyes adjust immediately to the change of lighting as Storm Shadow turns off the lamp in his room and lays in his bed. No, Wolf corrects herself quickly. He's seated, legs crossed, katana lying unsheathed in his lap. Wolf takes a bobby pin from her dresser, pulling her hair down and taking the device from her bangs so her ink can show. She breathes in deeply, and prepares herself for Wind Rider to come, because she knows he will.

Rider stands above the exact spot of the Joes base. He kneels down and taps on it once, then twice. He could easily get in, he knows, but it just doesn't seem appealing to him at the moment. He doesn't want it to be easy, not too easy, and he doesn't want them to see it coming. Right now they can for sure, all because of his darling rival. He had truly been captured by her at a point, but that was before she thought him a liar and began using her own facade.

He sees someone come up from underground, and becomes very still. There isn't any cover for him to hide, but it is well past dark. He wills himself to be one with the sand around. The light flashes around him, anywhere but on him, and they eventually leave him there unknowingly. He stands again, and this time it's to leave. He strains to hear where Wolf is, but to no avail.

Rider sees movement out the corner of his eye. "It's about time you found her location, you worthless killers."

Cutter makes herself known first. "She's one of our own, even if all we ever do is fight with her. Of course we were eventually going to find her location, even if it took years. Right, Hothead?"

"Of course," Hothead replies. "I have a tendency to find anyone or anything I want. The question is, who are you? I can't find your files anywhere, and I have been looking for a long time. The only thing I have that could be connected is an article about a murderer disappearing into thin air after a public execution of a corrupt judge." His pal, Headshot, says nothing, of course. Rider knows he's there anyway.

Rider smirks, remembering his orders. "She never said I couldn't take in a few for my personal arsenal." A blunt weapon slides from his cloak into his hand.

Storm Shadow watches Arctic Wolf through a camera. She's been sitting in the same position for nearly two days, not a single other motion. Duke is nearby, and so is Snake Eyes. "How can she be so still?"

Storm exhales. "There were stories that someone in training would sit in a pile of ants and had to stay completely still, even holding their breath, for a full minute. Sometimes two if they were in need of it. They had to do this everyday for weeks at a time. It was initiation for her kind. This right here is nothing compared to any new training methods they've come up with."

Duke is surprised, not sure if he wants to know anymore about this Family of hers. "Should we feed her?"

"No," Storm answers. "She will be better without it." It's silent again, and Duke keeps shifting awkwardly, as though uncomfortable. "If you would say what's on your mind, I would greatly appreciate it."

"She's... I don't know. She's just..." He shakes his head. "She's amazingly scary. She was afraid of Freddy Krueger? She should see herself."

"Right now is different from any other time you will see her," says the ninja. "She's becoming one with her inner wolf, with the training engraved into her body and soul. Literally." In the dim light of the room, it's impossible to see her tattoos, but he has the feeling she wants it like that. She doesn't want them to see the tats just yet. "She doesn't need anything, not even a purpose."

Duke shakes his head. "How can they do that to a little girl?" No one answers, because no body wants to. But her voice comes in loud and clear.

"They can do it because a weapon isn't meant to be looked at as a human being with a mind, with a body, with a soul. So they destroy you. The mind slips away from the edge, forming a bridge over insanity's waiting embrace. The body is destroyed with scars and other forms of imperfection. The soul is taken apart bit by bit by emotional manipulation." She turns to look into the camera, the night vision making her steel eyes look like a ray of light. "So don't forget it."

Arctic Wolf focuses on her breathing after speaking to the camera. She can't hear them, but the vibrations are felt and she can untangle them to form words to form sentences. She goes back to her memories, her teacher speaking in her ear to listen hard, pushing her as hard as she can until Wolf nearly breaks. "You said you want to hunt down any who threaten you, Child. Now you must become the predator so you won't ever be the prey."

Then she can feel the blade cutting into her. A sharp pain, something she always anticipates but never fails to flinch away from. But she must listen and never focus on the pain for a moment or it would only get worse. The ravenette takes a deep breath before coming back into the real world, away from the knife and into her own world. A world where her teacher is dead and can no longer use the sharp blade she helped her with.

Another sound, this one of someone knocking on metal. Wolf tenses up, trying to focus more on it as the pain comes back. Wolf focuses less on it until it becomes dull and just there, like an old toy in your bedroom that's always been there. It's there, you just barely notice it because of how familiar it is. She waits for another, but nothing comes. She breathes in deep, finding it in herself to dismiss the sounds as nothing at all.

Wolf hears someone approach the door, but the light footsteps dismiss almost all of the Joes. She opens the door, and walks inside. Wolf grabs a pen from her bedside and manages her way to the door, just waiting for her. As it opens, Wolf finds herself behind it. "Wolf? C'mon, we're here to get you out." She clicks the pen, holding it high to jam it into the person's eye.

She sees no one, but another message plays. "Wolf, hurry up." She looks down, grabbing the recorder. Wolf curses, going to the door and banging on it hard for someone nearby to listen.

"Someone was in here."