A/N: I'm sorry, I epic fail at updating, I know.

Story Note: Eh, not much except for language and a little blood. Death of wolves (unfortunately)...And my incredible lack of knowledge about making jerky and other things (You'll see as you read it). Seriously, my facts probably aren't very straight in this chapter, so please bear with it.

Disclaimer: Nope, I still do not own Soul Eater or its characters.

Noches de Polvo

Chapter 3: When The Wolves Strike

by. xxBurningxx

"Ah...There it is..."

Soul glances over at the officer whom is pointing off into the distance. Her face, neck, and all other exposed skin is glistening from sweat that's built up after spending numerous hours in the blistering sun. With a mental grunt, he blunt notes that his own body is perspiring as well. Dragging his thoughts off of the horrid heat, he looks towards the left, in the direction of her finger.

"Yea...Camp Soney, eh? If I'm correct, there're been a number of rumors about that place..." Soul tells her, skepticism wriggling its way into his parched voice. He remembers the various tales that Rick and other travelers informed him of the mysterious camp: 'Lonely souls that roam the roads at night' and 'Robberies every couple'a days' just to name a few. Of course, Soul doesn't believe in the one about souls, but "robberies" all the time could be a candidate for problems. He hopes that grabbing supplies there will be quick and easy; the less time spent the better.

Although, it's not the safety he's really concerned about. He could certainly protect himself and Officer Albarn if it need be, but that'd be a waste of bullets, wouldn't it?

"Back at the office, we get quite a few crime reports from there, so I guess it wouldn't be unusual for rumors to float around like that." She replies, "And besides, I doubt anyone would bother messin' with us. A gunslinger and officer traveling together? Anyone crazy enough would just be wastin' their life."

Soul almost chuckles. It's almost as if she were reading his mind...He looks the other way in an attempt of hid the grin that threatens to spill off his lips, "Yeah, I guess we make a pretty good team, no?"

"I suppose so, Eater..." Her voice is flat - cold - containing no evidence of emotion. She agrees that they probably do make a nice pair for battle, but she still harbors a mountain of distrust for men, and he's no exception. For all she know's, he isn't any different from the rest of them.

And so, Soul pretends not to notice her tone of voice, and the two continue towards Camp Soney.

"Look Mister," Maka grits her teeth in frustration, "just give me the bullets."

The old man behind the counter just shakes his head for the third time, "Miss, I'm afraid I can't do that." Maka pinches the bridge of her nose in obvious annoyance, leaning against the counter. She had entered the General Store of Camp Soney expecting buy an extra arsenal of ammunition, but when she had approached the counter to pay for her basket, she was greeted with a snotty old man who looked like he wasn't far from kickin' the bucket.

"Besides, young women like you shouldn't be handlin' guns, you'll just end up shootin' yerself."

That's Maka's snapping point. A filthy man like him shouldn't have the right to say that to her! "Listen hear, you good-fer-nothin'-" Maka was just about to spout a list of unmentionable things before she's cut off by the sound of the little hinged doors swinging open and boots clacking on the wooden floor.

"They're not for her."

Maka's instantly recognizes the husky voice that erupts from behind her, but anger and adrenaline still pumps through her veins, causing her head to whip angrily in the direction of the intruder.

"Huh?" The old shopkeeper grunts, "Who're you?" It sounds more like an accusation than a question.

"Who I am isn't any concern to you, old man. And that's not the important matter at hand; I asked her to come buy me those." Soul says, pointing at the boxes of ammo lying on the counter before sending Maka a quick glance, silently asking her to play along.

"Bulls-!" Maka begins, still enraged.

"Sorry, she has quite the short temper." Soul cuts her off again, sending her a sharp glare. Maka feels the incredible urge to induce harm to the gunsling. His crimson eyes lock with her emerald ones, and it takes a few moments before she reluctantly backs down. With a annoyed snarl, she finally looks away.

"That's pretty cowardly of ye to send your girl in like that, askin' her to buy yer ammunition." The man grunts, seemingly disgusting with Soul. And suddenly, Soul realizes exactly why this old fart had angered Maka so much. Half of him wanted to correct him about the Officer Albarn being his "girl", and the other half wanted to punch the old geezer. Ignoring his tempting desires, Soul slams down a wad of cash on the counter instead.

"Just give me the damn bullets."

The shopkeeper finally agrees to the request, handing Soul the boxes and greedily snatching up the money. Taking back his change with a grunt, Soul turns to exit the store.

Leaning against a wooden pole outside, is Officer Albarn. Her face is still a little red from rage, and she has her cheeks puffed out a little. Soul can't help but think that she looks childish, immature, and albeit, a little cute. Before his brain can process what he just thought, she interrupts.

"How'd you know to come in?" She asks, a little calmer now.

"Well, I was waiting outside, and you weren't exactly quiet about screaming at that old man..." Soul replies, allowing the smallest little laugh to escape past his lips.

She grunts, and he's grateful that she's not angry at him, because frankly, some part of him expected that to set her off as well. After being with her for just this short amount of time, he's realized that she has a short fuse, and recalling the way she didn't want to play along back in the store, she's also very stubborn.

"Lets go." She says, walking towards her horse.

"Wait, don't we needta buy some food?" Soul asks, following behind her.

"Nope, we're goin' hunting today." She tells him, and he can't ignore the smug tone that plays in her voice.

So instead, he relents and follows her, completely forgetting about the rumors that shroud Camp Soney and its inhabitants.

"Wow. You're pretty good..." Soul says in slight awe as he sees Officer Albarn approaching. In one hand, she holds a decent-sized rabbit by the leg, and the other hangs a dead rattlesnake. He can see where the gun's bullets made their mark: there's a blood stain in the center of the rabbit's nose, and an obvious hole in the snake's head.

"Yup, one bullet each." She tells him with triumph in her tone, and he can't help but notice the little smile on her face. And then she observes his own catch that is lying besides him: a mangled coyote (that had apparently strayed from it's pack) and a decent sized armadillo.

"You're not too shabby yerself." She says, dropping her prey and plopping down besides him. A few hours earlier, they had decided to set up camp beforehand, and then agreed to separate and meet back when the sun began to set. Now was that time; the sun was slowly sinking below the horizon.

"Eh, there's not much meat on the armadillo, but the coyote outta last a while if we make jerky outta it." Soul suggests with a slight shrug. He doesn't know to much about making jerky, but he figures that they couldn't eat everything they caught, and that it would be a waste if they didn't try to conserve it in some way.

"Sure, I have the things to do that. We can start it tonight. It'd make our journey a couple of days longer, but I'm fine with it...You?"

He realizes that he's caught her in a good mood, probably because he praised her hunting skills, "Yeah, that's fine. And we can just eat on the other stuff until it's time to head back to town..."

And so, he watches as the officer sets up some sort of device above their fire. After she's done and pleased with her work, she turns to him, "You're skinnin' them." She says, jabbing a finger towards the animals.

Soul considers objecting, but then thinks better of it. He doesn't want to ruin her good mood, and decides that making a woman do it would probably be rude. Not that he's suggesting that she can't do it, just...

She begins to pull out her own hunting knife to offer it to him when he stops her, "Nah, I got my own."

"Oh, okay." She says, and then goes back to tweaking with the contraption for making the jerky. Soul begins with coyote first, carefully skinning the fur and cutting the meat in strips, cautious to avoid getting blood on his outfit. Once he has a decent amount of meat strips, he hands them to Officer Albarn.

"Mhm, thanks." She says, taking them from him. He nods and watches as she ties them up and begins hanging them so that they hang above the fire. He watches as hands skillfully handle the meat with care, and admires her fast pace. After a few moments, she notices his gaze on her and turns towards him with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"Huh? Oh, nothin'." He replies, before turning away and grabbing the rabbit to begin skinning. He can feel her gaze on his back, but he ignores it and pretends not to notice. Instead, he focuses on the rabbit until he feels her eyes leave him. 'What the hell..?'

It's only later, once he's finished skinning and all the meat has been hung to begin cooking, does Soul begin to relax. The sun's long since set and the moon has already made its way a fair distance into the sky.

"I'll take first watch," Soul offers, while stretching his arms out with a lazy yawn. She watches him and wonders how he could be so lax; after so many years of duty, she's learned that you can't be relaxed in the wild, it'll get you killed. And if he expects her to protect him...well then, he's not in much luck.

"No, it's fine. I'll do it." Maka says, eying him warily. Someone like that...Nope, she's happy to stay awake.

"Okay..." He replies with another yawn; he looks tired. She's glad he doesn't object, because frankly, he really doesn't look like he needs to stay up much longer...

'He's just as lazy as all the men out there...' She thinks dully. And she doesn't doesn't even notice that she's a bit disappointed by the fact...

"Soul! Get yer ass up!"

He jumps at sound of her voice. 'My turn already?' But then two things slowly register in his mind: One, her tone's too urgent and two, that's the first time she used his actual name. He's not sure it that's a good thing.

The gears start turning in his head a bit faster when he hears the sound of a few gunshots and a canine-like yelp. Struggling to remove his person from the sleeping bag, his hand instantly fingers his trusty shotgun lying besides him. Once he's outside the tent, his heart sinks when he realizes what's going on. A pack of at least eight raggy wolves move in a predatory circle around their camp.

"Shit!" Soul curses, and suddenly, he's wide awake and alert. He poises his gun to shoot.

"Wait, not yet!" She hisses, "Slowly move behind me and watch the ones on the other side. I'll say when ta shoot."

Soul lowers his gun. Why should he listen to her? But he knows that she's right. Her logic makes sense: if he shot now, the pack would certainly attack, so he obeys the officer's orders. As gently and discreetly as he can, he turns around and moves towards her until they're back-to-back.

"Okay, on the count ta three, shoot at the biggest one on your side." She whispers. Soul takes a look at the dogs facing him. The one to the right looks the largest, so once again, he raises his gun.

"One..."

Silence.

"Two..."

Soul inhales. The wolves snarl and growl.

"Three-!"

Guns flash, and in a blink of an eye, Soul forgets about everything except for protecting himself and perhaps the officer. His bullet me its mark in the first wolf's head, killing it instantly. He's not exactly sure how the officer is doing, so instead, he focuses on taking care of his share of wolves. He hits one in the leg, injuring it badly enough for it to retreat. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he slightly acknowledges the sound of a horse whinnying.

"Damn!" He screams as one of them pounces on him, its weight pushing him to the ground with a thud. The wolf rips and gnaws on his left arm with its jaws, his own blood soaking its muzzle as well as his clothes. Soul struggles to get the canine off of him, but it's reluctant to let go and its weight pushes him down...

Until it yelps and releases it's grip, and it's a moment later when Soul realizes that Maka had abruptly turned to shoot the mutt ontop of him. The previously attacking wolf slinks down and the pressure on him and his arm is suddenly released. There's one last gunshot from Maka's pistols before the pack retreats with overlapping howls.

"Agh...Fuck!" Soul growls, gritting his teeth in pain. He observes his wounded arm at stares at the bloody mess, it's not as bad as he thought, but it's enough to leave his arm useless and open for infection.

"You can say that again..." Maka says bluntly, looking in a different direction. When he realizes that she's not actually looking at him, he follows her line of sight.

"Agh, Fuck!" Lying in a slowly gathering pool of blood is his nameless horse, bite marks littering its neck and torso. Maka runs a hand through her scraggly hair and turns to look at him.

Upon seeing his injured arm, she sucks in a quick inaudible gasp, "Damn..."

"Yeah...Thanks fer that..." Soul says, once again looking over at his arm. 'They must've smelled the meat...' Soul thinks dully.

"I guess we won't be staying to let the jerky finish..." Maka says, almost as though she read his thoughts.

"Heh, and I don't think either of us will be sleeping tonight..." Soul mumbles, plopping down, careful to avoid hurting his arm even more.

Maka eyes him and his wound, almost feeling a little guilty, because she managed with only a few scrapes here and there. He would certainly need to the doctor in the next town. And so they sit there by their slowly dying fire, and wait for the sun to raise.

"I can't believe that I have ta do this..." Soul grumbles, eying Blair the horse annoyed. The sun is just peaking above the horizon.

"Well it's not like you can walk." Maka chuckles, adjusting the things newly re-arranged supply pack, "Here, you can hold this."

Soul takes it and slings it over his shoulder with yet another grumble. After they've packed up the camp, Maka jumps onto Blair, and reluctantly with some difficulty, Soul follows. He has no idea how she rides the horse without a saddle, and he's not quite sure how he's supposed to either...

And he's sure as hell not wrapping his arms around her waist! Besides, his injured arm won't allow it. Yeah...He would need to get that checked.

"When we arrive in the next town, the first thing we're doin' is visiting a doctor." Maka says, once again as though she read his thoughts. He wonders how she does that.

"Yeah." Soul grunts, still a little annoyed by having to share a horse, "And I'm buyin' another horse there too."

"And exactly how much cash do ya have?"

Shit. "Heh...Uh..."

"Though so. What'd ya do? Gamble it all off?"

Soul just gives her a nonchalant look. He can't tell if it was just a lucky guess, or if his money problems were seriously that obvious. Or perhaps she really can read minds...And besides, it's not like he's broke, it's just that he doesn't have enough to pay for a horse, even a slow and unhealthy one.

"Why do ya think I'm on this bounty with ya?" Is all he says, as Maka tugs on the reigns and they take off into the dusty road.

"Damn it! I don't understand how you. Ride. Without. A. Saddle." Soul growls after falling off the back of the horse for the umpteenth time. He's just glad he hasn't managed to land on his injured arm yet; that certainly wouldn't feel good.

With a sigh, Maka responds, "Come on Eater, get yer ass in gear. It'll get easier."

When he doesn't reply with anything except an annoyed expression, she looks back with a smirk on her face and says, "I promise."

A/N: Again, sorry. As previously stated, I suck at updating. I've just been soooooo busy...

Playing Minecraft...not doing homework...and procrastinating.

Seriously. And don't ask me why Maka suddenly has, like, psychic telepathic powers or something...I don't quite know myself.

Also, again, I have no freakin' idea about making jerky and I'm sure they wouldn't do that in real life (maybe they would...?), but come on, it was a PLOT BUNNY! Yup, this chapter makes no since...And the title of the chapter is so...Horrible! I couldn't think of anything, honestly. *Facepalm* Ugh.

*Bows* Apologies from me. This chapter really isn't that great, I apologize if it doesn't meet anyone's expectations!

And this chapter is freakin' short (Well...)! Meahsklvnomscoihg. So sorry, I'm such a horrible person! Anyways! Time for a question that's completely irreverent to the previously stated things: town name suggestions? I'm seriously running out of names that don't sound retarded in correspondence to the setting. Lol.

Until next time (which hopefully won't be THAT long)...! Thanks for all the people who've reviewed and favorited and alerted; it seriously means a lot. (My A/N's are freakin' long! Ugh.

I also fail at editing stuff...So if there're any mistakes, feel free to point them out...or...ignore them...Either or. Doesn't make a difference to me.

Farewell, see ya in chapter 4.