Disclaimer: Don't own PJO or the Whiskered Warrior.

Lunar Phases

Full Moon

Lycanthrope.

The myth. The legend. The horror icon. Half-man, half-wolf. It takes but a scratch to spread its miserable condition. A bite is more damning than deadly. According to Apollo, the acclaimed motion picture An American Werewolf in London is the only absolutely accurate depiction of lycanthropy today.

October 9th, 2008

Jeremy was taken.

Of the mortals in the city, of the many picks Lycaon had, Jeremy was the one taken next. Taken right out from his territory. They'd spent the day planning his eighteenth birthday party — rather, Naruto arguing he wasn't celebrating his birthday while Jeremy insisted he needed to 'throw a party'.

"You have all this space out here, dude! You can't let it go to waste!" Jeremy threw his arm over Naruto's shoulders. "Look, give me a day. I can get a band out here and at least fifty people to party with. Beer, babes and boobs!"

"…You get a pass for the pun." Naruto huffed, knowing that his friend was not talking about female breasts with the last word, but of mindless other males that would fill the hypothetical party.

"C'mon, what do you say-?"

"No."

"Dude!" Jeremy whined at him. "At least go into town and eat a cake or something with me!"

"If it'll make you shut up."

"It will. Half-swearsies."

Relenting only to spare himself more of his friend's whining, Naruto had walked into the lodge to get his keys. Barking, whines and tearing steel preceded the scream. He raced out and pulled his cuff from his ear, his axe appearing in a flourish.

Two werewolves were disintegrating on the lawn. Akela and two others were bleeding out nearby. Jeremy was nowhere to be seen. The tires on his Jeep were slashed, and the hood had a message carved in it.

Hunt.

Akela and her kin were burned. Bruno was the Alpha now. He was left to protect the vulnerable pack. The mortal gathered his supplies in record time, and set out without a word into the night.

He's baited the trap. The Fox hissed as Naruto raced through the woods. Unless you are willing to do what must be done, do not spring it.

"Shut up, Fox."

Boy, don't you disregard me!

"Shut up, Fox!"

Fine! Go get yourself killed for all I care!

Merciful silence. Blue eyes followed every broken twig, every shifted pebble. The tracks were too obvious, the trail too plain. This wasn't a wolf pack's raid on an encroaching enemy pack. This was a trap.

The trail ended outside an abandoned logging facility. The main building was a wooded structure. There were cobwebs in the cracked windows and subtle groans that suggested imminent collapse.

"What is this, some kind of cliche horror movie?" Naruto grumbled. He furrowed his brow in thought. Lycaon was a Greek King and Greeks were known for their dramatics. Resigned to embracing the cliche, he sighed and prepared a throwing knife along with his axe.

As he stepped into the logging shack, the air seemed to go still and turn stale. The floorboard creaked beneath his foot and shadows shifted. Silver knives flew into the darkness, and pained whines followed their wet impacts.

"Lycaon!" Naruto called as he walked further into the mill. "I know you're here! Let the mortal go!"

A deep, rancid chuckle echoed through the structure. Shadows glared at Naruto, and he glared back. He strained his senses, seeking any sign of his friend or his foe.

"'Let the mortal go'!" A dark sneer repeated. More chuckles ensued. Creaking along the rafters had Naruto go still and peer up into their shadows. "So predictable. Next you'll say 'it's me you want'!"

"You're a $&*% prophet!" Naruto sneered back. "What's wrong, your majesty? Are you so afraid of me that you had to take a meat shield?!"

A heavy weight landed behind him and Naruto turned, axe swinging. His axe-wielding hand was caught at the wrist. The culprit was a lean man with skin straining across him like a tight suit. He was clad in robes of animal carcasses, none of the kills fresh or cleaned in the slightest. The grotesque man bared yellow, crooked sharp teeth and glared down into his eyes with emissive red sockets.

"I fear no mortal, child!" Lycaon snarled. Naruto narrowed his eyes and drew another knife with his free hand. He attempted to impale the king with one go, but Lycaon released his wrist and leapt away.

"Yeah?" Naruto asked, shaking out his wrist and brandishing his axe. The faint light glimmered along its edge. Blue eyes narrowed to slits. "I'm going to make sure that changes tonight."

"You will try, but the Full Moon is upon us, Prey." Lycaon slunk into the shadows with another laugh. His voice echoed through the mill again. "My time has come to rule once more. Behold, my latest servant."

A creaking groan of opening doors made Naruto whirl around. What he saw gave him pause.

Jeremy, sans a large strip of flesh from his right eye to his clavicle, was shuddering in a chair, kept bound by barbed wire. His right eye dangled from the socket, a milky unfocused orb held by red thread, and the left eye was bloodshot as if he'd been crying. Blood stained the space around his mouth.

"Jeremy?" Naruto took a cautious step forward.

"Nate…I…I thought we were friends." The left eye focused on him. It watered and tears fell. "You-you saved my life, dude. You could've told me. I wouldn't-I wouldn't have said anything.."

"You... know?" Naruto frowned. Jeremy's left eye closed and he nodded curtly. The blond lowered his axe, but the knuckles wrapped around it turned white. "You're his now."

Jeremy nodded again and let out a sob.

"…I'm sorry, Jeremy." And he truly was. He'd left his guard down and Jeremy suffered for it. He was dragged into a world he never knew existed, and likely would die because of it. Be damned for something out of his control.

"It-it hurt so much." The boy indicated the wound on his face. Then he looked at his hands, bound by the same wire around his chest. "Like lightning rushing through your veins. Except the pain doesn't stop after, after he bites you. It hurts forever. It's rushing through my body. And...I'm so hungry. So. Hungry. …Hungry. Hungry! Hunnngrrryyy!"

The soft clip of wire snapping made Naruto tense. Jeremy jerked forward, ripping himself free from his confines. Flesh tore away like wrapping paper scraps with a grotesque howl and a massive dark wolf lunged at him. The lone mortal turned to the side, his wrist and shoulder rolled, and a thick wet shleck sounded. The wolf's head bounced along the floor at his feet, fur falling to reveal the human face beneath, before it, and the body it was once attached to, reverted to dust.

"A glamorous kill, boy!" Lycaon jeered from his hiding place. Red eyes started glowing in the darkness, the snarls and growls of bloodthirsty werewolves filled the air. The king of wolves chuckled again. "But that was just one member of my new pack! Can you beat them all?"

Naruto didn't react. He stared down at the space where Jeremy's head had been. His grip tightened on his axe. Along his left arm, Sköll inched ever nearer to Sól, Hati closed in on Mani. The black stud in his left ear started to glow a deep, blood hued red.

Boy. The Fox rumbled. What are you doing? You're not supposed to—Uh-oh.

Naruto's eyes snapped open at the shift of dust and creak of wood. He pounced on the beasts that tried to overwhelm him, countering their trap. His axe fell into the skull of one wolf. Another fell victim to his knives. The pattern continued, man's flesh and cloth tore from the teeth and claws of the wolves. Silver pierced monster hide, and in an hour's time, the last wolf's golden dust rained down upon him.

"Lycaon!" Naruto roared, right hand gripped tight on the hilt of his axe, left holding a silver blade that yearned for something to be buried in. His call was met with silence. The mortal's blood boiled. The King had fled. Red eyes narrowed. He reared his head back and let out a primal yell that echoed across the world.

If it was a hunt Lycaon wanted, it was a hunt he would get.

Preparation was necessary.

A man dressed like a mandarin of the Qing dynasty was walking along the Appalachian Trail. His form was illuminated by the light of the full moon, but no shadow was cast. Bats shrieked in the night as a faint roar echoed over the low din of distant thunder, and the hiker lifted their head. A pale face, near white as the light that fell on it, looked up.

Red pinwheels spun in their eyes.

"Stupid Yankee went to town, Riding on the Kyubi. Got himself into a fight, lost more of his own history." The figure mumbled before chuckling. He resumed his walk, pulling a slip of marked paper out and pushing it into his mouth before continuing. "Stupid Yankee give it up, whatever you do, don't die now. Just find a comfy spot and don't move; I will come and put you down."

Khonsu sighed as he settled into his moonlit throne. He had a bowl of dates on his lap and was just about to enjoy the classic release of Universal's Mummy marathon. He was pretty sure that the Mortal Realm was in the midst of October, their spooky month, and he thought the series—though vastly inaccurate—was positively frightening! …Well, more so that the acting in it was.

Boris Karloff's silly makeup? Scary? Ha!

Helen Grosvenor's performance in the second act? Now that was horrific.

"Khonsu!"

Khonsu pursed his lips and looked at the rippling mirror to his right. What in Ra's name could that boy want now? He'd been so kind as to not bother him for his rash decision to traverse into the forbidden space between spaces. He should leave him be and bother one of the other gods he knew.

"Khonsu! I know you can hear me!"

"Yes, yes, I heard you my boy, just hold on a moment. Oh, my, that's a frightening glare." The god chuckled good-naturedly when his chosen Avatar came into focus and playfully shivered at the red eyes his Avatar bore. "Is someone regressing in their anger management?"

"No! No jokes!" Naruto glared at the god. "I need a big favor. Name your price."

"A big favor, you say?" Khonsu sat back in his throne, smiling. He loved when his Avatars made such foolish demands of him. They were so amusing. Nevertheless, he was a fair god. Most of the time. "Well, I guess it depends on the favor."

"I need you to keep the moon full until I kill a specific monster."

"My." Khonsu chuckled to himself and covered his mouth. He was already imagining the possibilities of what he could cash this request in on. Still, he needed time to consider the offers. "That is a big favor. Why not just ask Mommy dearest?"

"Because I don't want the moon to fall until either its dead, or I am."

"…Are you asking me to pause time for you until one monster dies?" Khonsu blinked. He could do that, certainly, but curiosity had the best of him. He leaned his head on one hand. "I'm afraid that I'm going to need more to go on here."

"It killed my friend." His avatar spat, teeth bared.

"Shame, that." Khonsu feigned sympathy. He wasn't close to mortals for this very reason. They were amusing things and he was fond of a few of them, but their deaths were inevitable. He settled on his throne, thinking about any favors he was owed by the gods of the dead. He might earn good favor from his Avatar if he recalled the lost one that elected such a response. "That Thalia girl, yes? You have my apologies, Naruto, she was a pretty—."

"Not her."

Not her? What the—What in Ra's name did he mean not her?! What other friends did this boy have?!

"Elaborate."

"A mortal. Like me, only…no godly ties. He was normal. He was also kind of stupid, but very loyal."

"I'm sorry…Are we describing a human or a dog?" If this was over a canine, the conversation would end here. Khonsu tolerated dogs at best. They were, like mortals, adorable from afar. Honestly, he was more of a bird person.

"I will obliterate your name." Naruto snarled, his eyes flaring bright red. That was quite the response. Khonsu's eyebrow arched as the boy pinched his nose and scrunched his eyes shut. "Sorry! Sorry. I…I'm feeling guilty and pissed off and all of the werewolves $&*% everywhere before I got here! Why am I still in this building?! …I wasn't asking you, Fox!"

Khonsu ignored his Avatar's weak sanity, most Mortals had their quirks so what was one more? But what was it he said? Werewolves? But he wanted time tied to one being? Surely, he didn't mean—Even Artemis would not be so foolish as to let that mockery of a king, that utter failure of a host run amok near her son unprotected!

No, wait. Focus. The werewolves were the issue here.

"Did…" Despite himself, Khonsu's hands balled into fists. He rose from his throne, knocking his dates to the floor. "Did you say werewolves?"

"Yes?"

"Werewolves."

"Yes. Werewolves." Naruto reiterated, his scowl deepening. "Specifically, Lycaon."

Khonsu stood corrected. Apparently, Artemis was that stupid. She was letting her mortal son fight the King of Werewolves. Alone.

What was wrong with the Greco-Roman pantheon!? Did they ever try to consider the quality of their Avatars over the quantity?! Just once?!

His power swelled. He would not make the same mistake. This investment is far too important. He would not lose another prime Avatar by the fault of the Greco-Roman Pantheon. This he swore by his ren.

"Naruto, I want you to listen to me. Listen carefully." Khonsu put his hands on either side of his mirror, silver eyes gleaming with barely restrained power. "If you die in this pursuit, I will bring you back as a conscious husk of your former self. You will be cursed to wander the night and hunt the very family you care so dearly about. Do you understand me?"

"Are you going to help me or not?"

Khonsu grinned a furious, excited, twisted, mad grin. His power radiated from his hands and he engulfed the mortal world itself. Tying time to something as fragile as one insignificant Life barely needed any serious thought. Tying it to an insignificant monster or his Avatar, child's play. Doing both and cutting out interference from other Pantheons would take all of his focus. He would likely miss the marathon he was well prepared for.

It would be so worth it.

"Yes, my dear boy." He breathed out one last chuckle. "And I'm even going to do it free of charge."

Lycaon would die at his Avatar's hand. The Travellers of the Night would be spared the hungry wolf's terrorizing ways. Khonsu would be able to rub it into the other deities' faces, into Artemis' and Diana's smug faces, that his Avatar bested their so dreaded King of Wolves!

Everything in this deal, as far as Khonsu was concerned, was a win.

"Naruto, explain this!"

Artemis glared daggers at the shaky image Iris was showing her courtesy of a small waterfall at the edge of the Rockies. The very instant she felt interference form between her son's tracking piercing — if only to ensure it didn't fall off — and her power, she attempted to go to his side. A barrier of Egyptian make stopped her. That interfering, insufferable, inept waste of a Moon deity was doing something to bar her entry to Colorado.

Colorado!

Her Territory!

Her wolves were kept there, her lands were kept there, and — most importantly — her son was kept there!

"It's personal." The boy in question told her. His voice was disrupted by mystical energy and the projection's image kept breaking up. Iris' power was barely breaching the barrier.

"Person–! If this barrier is not lowered in three seconds, you are going to learn what the term personal means!" Artemis snapped. She could feel her head start to throb and closed her eyes. She willed back the Roman that wanted to spring forth and take the Hunt to the Du'at. Artemis was no war deity, but even she knew that starting another war before they'd ever ended the first was ill advised. With another deep breath, Artemis opened her eyes back up. "Naruto, so help me, if you don't get this barrier down—!"

"I love you, Mom." Naruto smiled at her. A sweet gesture, one of her favorite sights to be sure, but it was not enough to get himself out of the trouble he was in. Oh, as soon as she found a way through this blasted barrier—Her son shrugged. "Just wanted to say it in case this doesn't work. Tell Bianca she's doing a good job, okay?"

A trap.

Khonsu made a trap.

Naruto was bait.

Artemis' head throbbed. She grabbed her skull and dropped to a knee. No, no, no, no, no! Not again!

Do you think I want this?!

What are you waiting for?! Our son needs us!

I know!

I can breach the Du'at! You cannot!

We cannot risk igniting a second war!

So we let our son do this?!

Obviously not, we just need to get through the barrier!

I know a way, now let me handle it!

No!

"M-My Lady?"

"What?!" Artemis/Diana shouted, rounding on their Lieutenant. Bianca took a half step back, but held her reserve. She pointed at the Iris Message. Or rather where it was.

Diana snapped.

"Diana-No. No! Not again!" Artemis felt the pressure in her head build up. And up. And up. She fell to her knees, fighting Diana back. It hurt so much, fighting back her own rebelling power, but she refused to be rendered useless. Three months, she lost three months of action at Diana's will. Artemis vowed that she wouldn't be silenced by the Roman ever again.

Especially not while her son was in danger.

As the pressure became too much, Artemis pulled on her domains. Reached for the devotion of her followers. Called upon the gravitational might of her chariot.

Heat erupted behind her and her twin's arms wound around her, pinning her arms in place.

"Hunters, unless you wanna be ash, beat it! Now!"

Her brother's barked order was swiftly obeyed, for even her staunchest of distrustful Hunters knew that Apollo would never attempt to physically or directly hurt her. She'd scold him for his crass method of saving her Hunters later. Her head was tucked under his chin, and she felt her twin hum. A soothing, simple melody, nothing poppy or loud, brash or annoying. Like a warm, gentle sunlight that poked through the trees. The migraine dwindled to a headache, until eventually it was gone.

Artemis tapped Apollo's arm, and cautiously he released her.

"Artemis?"

"Apollo." Moonlit eyes looked up into orbs of blinding sunlight. "Divine forms?"

"You really didn't want her to come out, Artemis." He sighed. They went back to their mortal forms. "What happened?"

"That." Artemis turned to the barrier and scowled. Their divine forms hardly left a scratch on it. Egyptian magic was ridiculously broken.

"What the–Oh, come on! ...Did the Egyptian do this?" Apollo asked with a scowl. Artemis nodded, just as unhappy — arguably, more so — with the development as her twin. He stood up and faced it. He put his hands on the barrier, grit his teeth and with all of his godly might, Apollo pushed. The ground beneath his feet cracked, but the barrier didn't so much as budge.

Artemis watched him stare at the magic for a minute before he took a deep breath of Upper Air. She'd had a fraction of a second to cover her ears. The frequency and pitch which her twin screamed at would shatter the soul of any lesser being if they could hear it. Immortals would likely react to it as if their equivalent to a cochlea being damaged. It should have done something to the barrier.

The damn thing remained unscathed.

"Apollo. Apollo, enough!" Artemis, wincing as she unveiled one ear to the devastating sonic attack, clasped her hand over her twin's mouth and cut his scream short. He scowled at her behind it before glaring at the Egyptian construct. He stepped away and crossed his arms.

"I'm going to see how far this thing goes." Blue eyes glared at her. "When it finally comes down, Lil Nephew is so grounded. I'm not talking 'isolated in a cabin playing wolf-papa' grounded, either. I'm talking about monthly check-ins, restricted visits, patrols, and maybe even a permanent sitter. This has to stop, Sis."

"Do you think I do not know this?" Artemis snapped. She pointed at the barrier. "My son is in there, Apollo! My son! He is in there fighting against one of the most feared monsters to roam the planet!" Her finger turned on him and her eyes narrowed. "And that is your fault!"

Originally, the horrific werewolves of early man were merely a breed of shapeshifting monsters who'd discovered that they could disguise themselves as humans to evade Artemis and her Hunters, save for the nights where her chariot's light was at its peak. In the early Nineteenth Century, those intellectual beasts that barely registered as a challenge were suddenly replaced by the now self-proclaimed "King of Wolves" and his ever growing and frustratingly resilient pack. Apollo's fascination with Gothic literature – "My edge-lord phase," he claimed – revived the punished and long-dead King Lycaon to his current state, granting him and his ilk near invulnerability to all materials save for silver. As the time passed, man's fascination with themselves surpassed the egos of their forebears – a feat Artemis thought impossible – they named and legitimized a disease after the monstrous king. This, coupled with the popularity of those infuriatingly sexist Universal films and others derived from it, ensured that Lycaon would keep returning from where he belonged in Tartarus.

"...Okay, yeah. That's on me. That's my bad." Apollo rubbed his neck. Artemis scoffed at the understatement, but let her accusing finger fall. He sighed before dropping his arm and looking at her with a frown. "The King is not happy that the mortals are seeing this. If he finds out Lil Nephew's at the center of it all..."

"He will not." Artemis frowned. If need be, she would utilize one of her two remaining wishes to protect her son from her Father's often irrational sense of punishment. Apollo shrugged and looked up at the clouds, likely where his car was.

"Just saying, Sis. This needs to be figured out before it's figured out for us."

"It will." Artemis mumbled as her twin returned to his car. She began to pace along the state line like a waiting tiger. The minute weakness revealed itself, she would be in there.

Khonsu, you had better hope he lives through this. She thought, eyes thrumming with power. Because if he doesn't, the Titans' forces will become a secondary problem in my eye.

"So, it's come to that, has it?"

Freyr stared at the barrier surrounding Colorado from atop Mount Rushmore. He rubbed his chin and eyed the Valkyries circling around it. The Norse god of fertility and the seasons settled down in his foldout chair atop Washington's head – the First President of the United States was the only mortal he'd met before Naruto who he had known would instill a great change in the world. Freyr pulled a bottle of mead from his cooler and, with a flick of his thumb, sent the cork flying across state lines. It bounced off of the barrier and he huffed.

"Well, that's annoying." Freyr had put only a small fraction of his power into the cork's flight, just enough to ensure the spores on it would spread and fertilize some flora in the area. That the Egyptian's barrier rebuffed his divine domain was frustrating, and should've been impossible. He glanced at the source of power that appeared beside him. "Enhancing other pantheons' magic now, Borson?"

"The wolves' conflict must remain in the pack. Outside interference will lead to a disruption and dissolution, spreading the beasts to the wild and leaving chaos upon the lands in their wake." Odin rumbled. He sat in a chair that appeared beside Freyr's, and willed a bottle of mead into his hand. The All-Father took a swig and sighed. "If it means helping one of those sand-crawling parasites then so be it."

"You wish to see the Fox's power." Freyr accused. Odin cracked a wry smirk.

"No. That's a mystery I've already witnessed with his time as a Life Guard. The trickster's role is already filled by Laufeyson. A cunning war hound is needed to act as Tyr's right hand, to aid him in his triumph after I fall." The All-Father of the Aesir tribe settled in his seat. "I simply wish to see what my son will do with my own eye."

October 10th, 2008

"Yeah, Percy. We're watching." Annabeth mumbled into the wireless landline Thalia had in her apartment. The two girls were sitting in the elder's apartment, eyes glued to the local news to catch sign of anything The Titan Army might be doing. The footage of the 'mystery barrier' around Colorado definitely struck her as odd, but too obvious for Kronos' forces to utilize. She glanced over at Thalia, who had her knees pulled up to her chin, arms wrapped around them.

"Do you have any idea—?"

"No, Percy, I don't know what's going on." Annabeth sighed. She rubbed her head. "And before you ask: Yes, I want to know! And I know that the Mist will make people forget about it, but that doesn't change the fact I want to know!"

"Were you always this nosy about weird things or is that new?" He chuckled to himself. Clearly, he was referencing their first meeting at Camp a few years ago. Annabeth wasn't amused.

"Look, Seaweed Brain, I'll call you back when this is over and we can compare notes. Okay?"

"Okay, okay." He was smiling that dumb smile of his on the other side of the phone line, she just knew it. Annabeth did her best not to smile outright at his next question. "You still up to go see that Max Payne movie tomorrow?"

"As long as nothing else comes up." Like, for instance, a certain red headed girl that she didn't want to talk about. "Bye, Percy. Say bye, Thalia."

"Bye, Kelp Head." Thalia mumbled half heartedly at the phone that was held out to her. Her eyes remained on the talking heads trying to discern the cause of the shadowed dome over Colorado.

"Oh, gee thanks, Porcupine Face. I feel so loved." Percy's sass huffed back through the receiver before he ended the call on his end. Annabeth dropped the phone on the cushion and looked at Thalia.

"…You don't think—?"

"I already tried calling him."

"And?"

"Voice mail."

"Oh." Annabeth frowned as she caught sight of a small electrical charge dance between Thalia's fingers. "Well, we could I.M. him—"

"He'll call me back."

"Thalia, we shou—"

"He'll. Call. Me. Back."

Annabeth sighed and let the grumbling girl be. Where she'd gotten such a disdain for Iris' Messaging in the last few months, she hadn't a clue. Something told her it had to do with Aphrodite. Grey eyes turned to the screen, and focused on the bright silver Ankh that reflected upon the dome. She looked back at Thalia.

"Do you think he's okay?"

Thalia's fingers dug into her arms, her lip curled in a snarl and her eyes briefly sparked.

"He'd better be."

The Prey was angry.

That meant the Prey would make mistakes. The first mistake it made was contacting that pathetic Egyptian in the open. A joke of a god, that one. Stuck in another plane entirely, thinking himself worthy of worship for his titles.

The Prey was a fool, trapping itself with his pack at the whim of the Egyptian. The King of Wolves bowed to no god. He served only Mother Earth. That The Prey sundered power to any lesser 'deity' proved its coming demise.

Lycaon licked his chops once more at the thought of consuming his most treasured kill's partially divine flesh. It was making his stomach rumble. Peckish by the self-torment he willingly suffered and with so much fear permeating the land, the King of Arcadia made his decision. A quick snack would suffice, but it mustn't fully satiate his appetite. Not to mention, if done right, the attack on the nearby settlement would build up his numbers and bring about more power from the fear of Mother Earth's trusted dogs of war.

"With me!" Lycaon directed his meek pack towards a small visitors lodge. He still couldn't believe that such a grandiose settlement had an utterly unimaginative name. No matter, they had a herd in desperate need of culling.

Hours later, his pack had tripled in size and all were satiated by the meals they'd had. Lycaon cleaned spare meat from his teeth with a child's ribbon. A faint primal scream emerged from the woods, scattering the fowl from their nightly perches, and he grinned. It was a weak excuse for a challenge, but Lycaon would answer it all the same.

The Prey was ready to die.

"Finally. Come!" The King commanded his forces.

A mile across the wood and one of his wolves were caught by surprise when the ground collapsed beneath it. Lycaon investigated the pit trap, ignoring the pleas for aid from the foolish mutt. Wooden pikes, sharpened by a silver blade, were set in the pit. The wolf wouldn't die quickly from such wounds, but it would be a slow, agonizing death all the same.

No matter, the King thought to himself. The Prey got lucky and culled his pack of embarrassment. He sniffed in dismissal and left the werewolf to its inevitable demise. The rest of his pack followed him as he went further into the woods.

Another trap, a neck-tie snare, caught another wolf. It died and dusted before Lycaon could investigate, finding only a silver cord noose that he dared not touch. The King of Wolves scowled. Once was chance.

"Resorting to traps?!" He sneered. The silence of the forest said volumes. Lycaon's red eyes narrowed. "These cowardly tactics will not best me, Boy!"

Vines snapped. Wind rushed. Something heavy fell towards him from the right, and Lycaon skirted from its path. Whines and yells rang out as a massive oak held by a series of interwoven vines swung down from the tree tops. The barreled werewolves it struck were caught in the air by silver tipped arrowheads that flew from all directions. That single, simple maneuver reduced the size of his pack by half. Given that he was barely managing twelve mongrels before those the last few were felled, it was a significant loss.

The Prey's soft chuckle echoed around him, and Lycaon swiveled where he stood, silently scowling at the sound.

"Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? The big bad wolf? The big bad wolf? Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? Ha, ha-ha-ha, ha, ha."

Lycaon snarled at the lighthearted singing that rang through the night. The Prey dared to mock him?! He, the King of Wolves?! The Predator of Predators?!

"Face me, hero!" Lycaon sneered into the shadows. "Do you not wish to honor your mother personally?! To avenge your fallen friend?!"

"Of course, I do." The Prey called from his left at another oak. Lycaon sent two wolves in its direction. They had only just made it to flank the tree when silver tipped pikes shot up from the dirt, killing the damned beasts instantly. He growled when the Prey spoke again from his right. "But you don't seem to appreciate how big a deal this is. Jeremy was my friend. That reason alone is why his death was quick."

A sharp whine behind him had him turn in time to catch sight of the last member of his pack dissolving from a silver hunting knife to the head. He glimpsed a white cloth dart around an elm out of the corner of his eye. Furious, he pursued it. He was the predator, he would not be humiliated by this Prey!

Lycaon juked mid run, swiveling on the ball of his foot to see a set of iron teeth rise out in a snap. Ursine traps?! A fresh click beneath his foot had him leap back, pressing his spine against a pine.

Another, larger, silver bear trap snapped shut where he'd stood.

Red eyes blazed.

"You will not trap me like some common beast, Boy!" Lycaon roared, shedding his human form and tattered rags of clothing. His powerful frame was the size of a small mortal vehicle, what did they call them? Ah yes, a sedan.

His unfiltered sense of smell was immediately overwhelmed by the tempting scent of mortal blood. His eyes, head and body looked up to the very tree he'd braced himself against to see the Prey seated on the branch. It sat there, eyes locked on him, muscles tensed and ready to move. A Hunter's cloak was pulled up over its head, a white scarf around its neck nearly hid its whiskered face, a shirt that brandished a shimmering crescent moon, pants that resembled birch trees and boots that were a bright white. A pair of fresh, deep cuts spanned the length of both his forearms, creating red lines among the tanned flesh below the pulled up sleeves.

The artery was hit, but the Prey lives still? How? What? Was he scratched by a member of the pack? No, he'd sense the Prey among his kin if it would've joined him by now. Then how?! How?!

"Lycaon, you just don't seem to get it." The Prey brandished its wounds and, right before the King of Wolves' eyes, they sealed shut as if never opened to begin with. The Prey's sleeves were pulled down, a white canvas capturing the form of a man, and in the shadow of its hood, its eyes flashed red. "You're not the Hunter anymore."

An oppressive, thick aura radiated from it and Lycaon found himself frozen. Instincts that only flared in the presence of gods were screaming at him. But this was not godly power. It was also definitely not the weak magics of mortals. It was ancient and it was angry.

It was horrific. It was beautiful.

Lycaon hated it. Lycaon desired it.

The Werewolf's own natures were at war with itself.

"Now begins The Hunt. So run, Prey," The Prey-Hunter growled. Blades of Silver filled its hands. It crossed its arms over its chest, and it threw the silver at him. "Run!"

Despite his higher intellect telling his body to avoid, and stand the ground, Lycaon ran at the order from the silver. As he ran, a sharp mechanical whine pierced the air and he cringed without stopping his instinctual flight. Then, that blasted song "Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf" started to play. The pitch of the singers was higher, almost childlike. The inference that even children shouldn't fear him made the monstrous king's nonexistent blood boil.

"Stop mocking me!" Lycaon roared. He leapt at the next loud source of the song and ripped a speaker from where it had been hung in the tree. Then another and another. Each speaker fell until the song stopped.

"But you make it so easy." The Prey-Hunter's voice echoed around him. "Or… do you not like that classic? Maybe we should go for something a little more accurate?"

Lycaon snarled and shook his head. The Pr-Hun-Pre—Hunter started to sing softly again.

"Round and round the Hunters' Camp, the Hunter chased the Werewolf, the Hunter had too much fun—"

Lycaon saw a flash of white at his right before something flew into his side. He howled in agony as the swinging kick knocked him into a tree. The blow cracked his ribs. Lycaon rounded on his foe with hatred burning in his eyes. The Hunter matched his gaze with intensity and color, but a smirk not unlike that of Artemis' own was on his face, rather than the scowl that the King would have if he were not in wolf form.

"Pop! Went the Werewolf."

"I will tear your limbs apart," Lycaon snarled. His claws dug into the earth's crust, his tail whipped like an angry serpent, and his muscles tensed in preparation to leap. "I will skin you alive! I will rip your flesh from your bones! And once all that has been done, I will grind what remains into dust!"

Rather than be intimidated by the pain Lycaon wholly intended to deliver upon him, the young Hunter merely snorted.

"Bring it."

He held his hand out towards the King, and a faint whistle was the only warning Lycaon got before his danger senses went into overdrive. He barely managed to leap out of the way, and the werewolf roared as his right shoulder's flesh was sliced off by the same axe he'd avoided being hit by earlier.

The axe, coated in his blood, shifted form before it found purchase in The Hunter's hand. The blade grew to a thick silver crescent-edge, protruding from one side of the now longer shaft, while a small pike rested on the other. Wolves heads were engraved in blood red on the silver metal, and bled into vein-like gaps along the pole. It was everything a woodcutter would be expected to wield.

"…Yeah, you're right." The Hunter mumbled, as it examined the weapon it held in its two hands, before the red eyes looked up to meet Lycaon's. The Hunter's features turned stony and cold. "Lycaon, I'm going to enjoy watching you die."

With an outraged roar, Lycaon snapped and charged forward.

Hey, batter-batter-batter! Suh-wing, batter! The Fox jeered as Naruto hefted the silver fireman's axe over his shoulder like a major league baseball player.

"I'm never letting you watch Ferris Buller again." Naruto murmured as he took a swing at the leaping monster. He whiffed, only landing another graze on the wolf's hide. Lycaon growled at him upon landing and he sneered back. "Yeah, I'm right here, Fido! Come and get me!"

The next snarling leap was too close for him to counter. He used his axe's long shaft to catch the attempted bite. It wasn't entirely made of silver, and the weight of Lycaon knocked him from his feet, but the yardstick-length mostly wooden hilt kept the werewolf's jaws at bay. Pinned under the large beast, burning the hinge of its jaw with the material it was so weak against, all he could do for the time being was hold it off and get lathered in the mad king's spittle.

That is absolutely disgusting! The Fox deadpanned. Silently, Naruto agreed. He dug his feet into Lycaon's underbelly and, with a great yell, pushed. The ton of muscled monster flew off of him and he rolled over to one knee, using his axe to steady him.

It'd been eighteen hours since Jeremy died. It took Naruto the better part of six hours to clear out the rest of the mine. Lycaon and his pack ate no less than thirty natives of Colorado Springs that had been trapped in the Bear Creek Visitor Center when Khonsu's spell took over. Naruto had to struggle not to focus on their deaths, so that he could prepare traps for the werewolves. But now…his eyes fell on the King of Kinslayers and his blood boiled.

He turned your friend into a monster. The Fox rumbled. He killed and ate children in front of their mothers!

It was egging him on, to use more of its power. To give it a better sense of the world around it. To weaken its shackles to his soul.

Naruto allowed it.

A hot surge of what he could only describe as pure, unadulterated rage flooded through his body.

"I will rip open your carcass and eat your heart, Boy!" Lycaon snarled before leaping at him again.

"Took the words right out of my mouth!" Naruto ended with a roar as he stood, spun and swung in one fluid motion. The axe dug into flesh and stuck…caught on bone of the rib cage. The blond scowled as his axe was torn from his hands. "&%*$."

Lycaon bit into the handle and tore it from its side, throwing the weapon away as the silver handle burned its mouth. Naruto reached out to recall it, and the axe's trajectory turned, but his misplaced attention cost him. It would've been over in a bite, if not for the audible snarl that gave him warning of the Arcadian's next attack. His fingers splayed in the Werewolf's jaws, one hand on the beast's snout and the other holding the mandible open. His feet dug trenches in the forest floor as Lycaon pushed him back, trying in vain to snap his jaws shut on his prey.

And I thought your morning breath was bad. The Fox snorted.

"Not. Helping." Naruto growled. He cursed as his defense faltered, courtesy of a small stump that cost him his balance, and his right palm was split open on the werewolf's fangs. His hand remained his own and he hoisted himself with his good hand onto Lycaon's back.

"What trickery is this?! Your flesh tastes of mortal dirt!" Lycaon roared in outrage whilst trying to buck his would-be rider.

"Alf, you are so forgiven!" Naruto shouted aloud, clinging for dear life onto the Werewolf's back with his legs like he was back at the rodeo. With his free hand he tore the scarf from his neck, ripped off a strip of it, and held the rest in his teeth as he bandaged the gash on his palm. Once that was done, he lashed the rest of the scarf through Lycaon's mouth to use as makeshift reins. He pulled on the scarf and jerked Lycaon's head back, guiding the werewolf towards a cliff. "High-ho, Silver!"

"I will defecate upon your grave!" Crimson eyes blazed into his eyes. Naruto shrugged.

"I expected nothing less from an animal."

In Lycaon's fury, he bucked his hindquarters forward just as his forepaws lost earth to tread upon. The werewolf flipped over the cliff and dislodged the teen riding him. Naruto twisted in the air, catching himself with a silver throwing-knife that dug into the earth. Lycaon fell with a howl into more forest below. A muted thump signaled the end of his descent.

Think he's dead?

Blue eyes narrowed.

"Not until I see his body turn to dust."

Agreed. The Fox rumbled. Well, go get 'em, bucko.

"Your words." Naruto huffed, planting his feet on the cliff's face and launching himself off. He spun, grabbed the hem of his cloak, and used it as a makeshift parachute to slow his fall...until it got snagged on the tip of an oak tree not three seconds later. He released the cloak, unclamped the latch, and crashed through branches, before he landed face first with a loud thump on the forest floor below.

"..Ow.." Naruto groaned, and pushed himself up from his unintentional face plant. He gingerly touched his face, and recoiled with a hiss when his finger grazed his nose.

Broken. Don't worry, I'm on it. The Fox's words were followed by a loud crunch. Naruto felt his eyes water and drove a fist into the dirt. He snorted out the rapidly dried blood.

"Ow."

Look alive, boy. Something's not right. The Fox rumbled. Naruto blinked the pained tears away and found himself once more agreeing with his unwelcome tenant. The wood was still. Dark. Worst of all, quiet. Not a single bird chirped nor was there a chitter from a critter. The only light available was from Khonsu's Full Moon above them.

Malicious intent, six o'clock!

Naruto turned just in time for a mass of muscle to barrel into his gut. The blow launched him across the clearing into a pine that he bounced off of, and cracked something on impact. This time, when he fell, he caught himself on his hands and knees. Twinned with the stabbing pain in his back, metallic bile rushed up his throat and he coughed, the ground soiled once more with his blood. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and looked at his attacker.

It stood with a man's posture and bore the same pink skin, but the features were misshapen. The legs were digitigrade with canid features and a small tuft of a tail protruded from their bare backside. Patches of fur kept it "decent" and the wounds from his axe's silver blade had yet to heal. The head was the biggest difference of all, looking like the skull of a wolf with man's flesh barely pulled over it.

"You're one ugly sonovabitch, aren't ya?" Naruto sneered. A rabid roar of primal rage was the response. A golden brow arched. "You still in there, King of Throw-Rugs?"

Lycaon was on him before he could so much as blink. Hands larger than a man's with claws sharp enough to cut steel were around his throat, slowly crushing his windpipe. Naruto gagged, his legs flailed as he was hoisted from the ground and slammed back-first into the tree. Its hands tightened and his hands shot up to grab the monster's wrists.

"You.. Die.. Now..!" Guttural, broken speech ripped out of the snarling Werewolf's mouth. It leaned in, its breath smelt of rancid decay and other foul things, and growled. "My.. Prey.. Always.. Dies..! Lycaon.. Is.. King.. Of.. Hunters..!"

"Yeah..?" Naruto croaked, the edge of his vision going dark and his skin felt like it was on fire. His left hand released Lycaon's wrist and he held it out towards the king's already wounded right shoulder. The burning feeling increased, he bared his teeth through a choked snarl. "Dare you.. to say it.. again!"

"My.. Prey.. Always.. Dies..!" Lycaon reiterated. His lips curled up, exposing the muscles in his upper jaw, and teeth riddled with disease. His grip tightened and Naruto felt his eyes roll up. "Lycaon..! Is.. King.. Of.. Hunt—"

Shlunk!

"RRrraaawwghh!"

Naruto caught his axe and dropped to his knees, landing across from the now left-handed monster's formerly attached right arm. Lycaon whirled on the ball of his foot and dropped to a knee, his stumpy arm clutched in his other hand as he let out high pitched whine-like snarls. While he was turned away, the blond struggled to catch his breath and almost dropped his axe. His head pounded and his body felt like it was immolating from the inside out.

I'm working on it! The Fox growled, a faint snarl echoing his words. Enough playing with your food! Finish this, Boy! Or I will!

"Fine!" Naruto grit out. He tightened his grip on his axe and used it to push himself to his feet. He braced himself against the tree, before he took hold of his axe in both hands. Steam rose up from his right hand's exposed skin's grip on the silver handle.

Lycaon..."

Despite the pain, Naruto hefted his axe high over his head.

"...your reign..."

As Lycaon turned to face him, he brought the axe down. The axe's blade drove into the werewolf's skull and slowly sank through the remaining flesh.

"...is over."

Naruto put his foot on the partially bisected beast's chest and pried the weapon free. He let his axe fall to the forest floor and glared at the dissolving corpse. His chest heaved as his palm blistered, but he didn't dare look away from the wily king. Once the monster's dust danced away on the wind, he craned his head back. The dark sky started to lighten, but the full moon remained in view.

Blue eyes narrowed, his teeth bared, and his hands balled into fists. A primal scream of victory erupted from his lips, devolving into a cry of anguish that sent a tremor through the air. Once it ended, he dropped to his knees, hunched forward, and drove his fists into the ground.

A pained howl tore from his mouth as bubbling red energy ripped his skin apart.

AN: So dies the King of Wolves, and his successor rises! Or does he?

Tune in next week kids, same Moony time, same Moony channel!

Also, an update! Passed the 200 review threshold folks! Cue the Mediocre Fanfare!

[Insert Mediocre Fanfare]

Yeah!