Author's Note:

Hello! This is my first fanfiction. Please be kind. At the same time, let me know if you have constructive criticism I can use. I know that this is a very short chapter, but I'd like to see if there is any interest in the story before I continue it. Enjoy!

M

Napoleon slammed to his hands and knees on the forest floor; twigs, bark, and other detritus took the skin off his palms and ripped holes in the black fabric of his pants. If it had been light out, he was sure that he'd see wet spots where his blood was seeping through the fabric. He was covered in cuts and bruises, but they had all started to blend together in one unforgiving ache. One particularly nasty cut on his cheek stung as sweat ran down his face. He thought it was from a tree branch, but he wasn't sure.

His breathing had calmed enough that he was no longer fearful that his heart would beat right out of his chest cavity, so he raised his head to look around. A dark forest surrounded him, the trees oddly far apart. Leaves blanketed the ground, but he still could barely see the sky above, so it must be early autumn.

Napoleon frowned. He didn't know what season it was? His stomach flipped as he realized that he also didn't know where, geographically, he was. He didn't know how he'd gotten here. He didn't know anything.

Where was Illya? And Gaby? Where they in the forest with him, or somewhere else…somewhere safe?

In that instant Napoleon realized that he wasn't safe. There were no obvious clues to danger. The only sounds were his own harsh breathing and the night-time wind in the trees. So why—

A long, low howl rose from somewhere behind him and to the left. Napoleon froze, some primal instinct screaming at him to run and don't move at the same time, the fear overpowering. He recognized the sound from the time he'd spent in Arizona on reservations. It was a wolf—he'd bet his life on it.

Another sounded from somewhere else behind him, and another. He might be doing just that.

Napoleon dragged himself up using the nearest tree trunk for balance, ignoring the rough bark grating against his already abused skin. He stood like a statue, for an instant, in the midst of the towering trees, with the hunting cry of a pack of wolves hanging in the air.

Then he ran.