[A/N] Well…well, well well. So we're doing this again, are we? Oh well, far be it for me to disagree with the plot bunnies that oh so love to hijack my brain during four hour delays that leave me stuck in the departure lounge at airports with absolutely nothing else to do. Yes, while this may not be an entire new saga, I suppose it will be the repository for any shorts that come to my mind (or indeed anybody else's should they wish to submit alongside) at random intervals, each forming the basis for a 'chapter'. On that note, it's probably best to start out with something completely different. I think it's about time to write one centred around a character who normally prefers the background, and really does like to stay there. Oh well, time to do what I do best and put a character I hold dear through absolute hell. Onwards!

Broken Bow: Hunter Tales

Entry One: Wants and Needs

That's the thing about relationships: you tend to have to share likes, activities and burdens, whether you want to or not. But that was fine as far as Armani was concerned.

At least, he assumed it should have been fine...

While it was true that Armani didn't have to share in all the little traditions that Aren still adhered to as a former Hunter, he didn't really want to make her feel too isolated from her old existence either. However, he probably should've been a little more selective before simply promising to share in all of them outright.

In all fairness, he had only agreed to it because he'd read that couples did that sort of thing together…apparently.

And they were apparently a couple.

He really was still getting used to that.

The concept had, so far, seemed easy enough in its execution: It was just like having a very close friend, one you huddled together with for warmth at night even when you didn't really need to. Armani was sure there was a lot more to it than that, but he was still finding his feet with the whole situation. Aren seemed to be a lot more knowledgeable about the subject in general, which quite frankly surprised Armani. He supposed it had something to do with repressed urges.

Regardless, when Armani had outright agreed to the sharing of traditions (which he really did feel was only fair, especially after the whole Christmas debacle) he realised that he probably should have at least read up on what all of them were first.

The Fasting of the Maiden: Now, despite a lot of teasing at Camp Half-blood that would imply the contrary, Armani was not a maiden, and he was indeed fully aware of this fact. But a promise was a promise, and so he resolved himself to participate.

But seventy-two hours without food?

Now, whilst Armani was fully aware that the human body could easily survive that long without sustenance just so long as there was plenty of water available (which the precepts obviously didn't forbid, not unless the tradition was supposed to double as some kind of Hunter culling ritual), he still had an issue:

He really liked eating.

Seriously, it was one of his top five favourite things. It was right up there with hunting. In fact, the two went hand in hand.

What was he supposed to do? Kill something and just leave it sitting there?

Absurd.

You kill something and then you eat it, that's how it works…within reason of course. That basically meant three days without hunting too. Already it was starting to drive him mad, and they were only five hours into it.

Plus, there was also the fact that it was just plain instinctive: The concept of fasting was practically alien to Armani.

And therein lay the problem. There was one being that Armani knew of who disliked the prospect of him not eating more than he did.

You should eat something.

Armani clenched his eyes closed at the umpteenth repetition of that particular nag. He took another large gulp of water and then went right back to his stretching exercises.

You're hungry, you should be eating something! Stop not eating this instant!

Shut…up!

This is ridiculous…

"It's important to Aren…" muttered Armani, "The Hunters practice this both as an endurance test and to train themselves to conserve energy should a situation emerge where they find themselves low on supplies."

I heard the explanation…

"Good, then you agree…" he murmured, leaning down to stretch his quadriceps.

I most certainly do not. When you're hungry, you eat. That's how it works. I really didn't think I'd ever have to instruct you on that fact.

I can't eat, Instinct. I'm fasting.

Then stop it! I dislike it.

Armani didn't really blame Instinct for her attitude. An animal's first urge upon feeling hunger is to sate it if the possibility is even remotely available. The mere concept of choosing not to eat when resources were available must have been mindboggling to her.

He could almost hear her gnashing her metaphorical teeth in the back of his mind.

-α-

Twenty-four hours later…

Lya shuffled up to Aren's side. They were both standing in the patio doorway, observing Armani as he sat cross-legged on the beach in an attempt to find some peace, "He's been talking to himself again…" said the nymph.

Aren shrugged, "He always talks to himself."

"Yeah, but he never shouts though…"

Aren scoffed, frowning with slight disapproval, "The other woman in his life must be getting to him then."

-α-

What if you just pureed a little something, would that count?

Armani gritted his teeth, "That would be cheating, now stop talking about food. Thinking about food makes this ordeal ten times harder!"

It's my job to make you think about it!

Then quit your job and find a hobby!

Don't be absurd….what kind of hobby?

Armani rolled his eyes, "I don't know!" he snapped out loud, "Have you tried crocheting?"

…

-α-

A further twenty-four hours later…

Armani stood in the centre of the living room with his eyes closed in perfect, albeit tense silence.

Aren had been right about the hunger pains, and the high liquid intake wasn't doing much to stop them now. She'd told him it wouldn't be so bad just as long as he didn't focus on it too much. Unfortunately for Armani however…

How about-

"That's it!" snapped Armani, eyes flicking open and cutting the voice off. He rounded about on the wall mirror and stabbed a finger at himself, "Now you listen here…"

I'm always listening

"One word, just one more peep out of you and I swear…I'll make you regret it."

A scoffing sound came back in response. You're already driving me out of my wits with this pointless exercise. What do you possibly think you can do to me now?

"Alright..." said Armani through his teeth, nodding, "alright then…" and he swung back about before marching over to the open laptop on the coffee table. He then mashed a button to wake it up.

What are you doing?

Armani punched the keys so hard he was sure that he was causing damage, "Who, me? I'm just purchasing the entire collective works of Justin Bieber, One Direction and Michael Bay for direct download. I feel the sudden urge for a movie-music marathon. How about you?"

There followed a long, long silence.

You wouldn't dare…

"Oh wouldn't I? So help me Artemis, I will turn my brain into mush to shut you up if I have to!" Armani knew that if there was one thing that the pair of them hated more than anything else, it was loud, screechy noises, pointless explosions, and situations so incomprehensibly stupid that you don't know where to even begin ranting pointlessly about them.

But he had been pushed that far.

A pause followed, the briefest of hesitations from within.

Bluffing…

"Aren!" snapped Armani

"Hmm?" came the distracted mumble from somewhere off in the kitchen.

"What's my new iTunes password again?"

"Uhm…die, vampires die, all one word, lower case. Oh, and six exclamation marks and a smiley face."

"Right, right…" murmured the demigod as he began typing. He got to the last digit, his pinkie hovering over the return key when-

FINE!

Armani actually winced due to sheer volume of her technically non-existent voice. This caused him to inadvertently tap enter, wasting over a hundred and fifty dollars in the process.

Armani blinked and then regarded the screen blankly, "Damn…"

You can have your day. You can have that long and no more.

Armani cocked his head, "That's all I ask, dear friend. And you have my solemn word in turn that I'll do nothing short of pig out on the morning after all this is over."

There came no response. Which Armani felt was a little odd, not that it was entirely unwelcome though.

-α-

And so, weakened and exhausted, Armani was more than glad to finally flop backwards onto his bed on the last night of the fast.

Aren was far more composed however as she slipped under the covers and drew herself up alongside.

"Do you do this every year?" grumbled Armani, still staring upwards but flicking his attention to her out the corner of one eye.

Aren shook her head, "Nah, just once a decade."

Armani slumped his head down into the nape of her neck, "Thank the various gods…"

The huntress just chuckled and nestled up to Armani, idly playing with his braids until they both drifted off.

-α-

12:00am that night…

The digital clock on Armani's nightstand bleeped quietly as both the hour and day clicked over.

Armani's eyes flicked open. However, it wasn't Armani that had opened them…

Instinct lay there, briefly stunned.

This hadn't been how it was supposed to be. She'd been expecting to drag Armani awake too. She of course realised in an instant however what had just happened.

Due to his sheer level of physical and mental fatigue brought about by the fasting, Armani had slipped far quicker into the deeper levels of REM sleep than she'd been expecting. His mind had not been where she had been expecting and so had completely missed both her target and opportune moment.

They'd effectively passed each other by, moving in differing levels of consciousness.

Instinct immediately retreated back into Armani's mind.

Or at least, she tried to...

Panic began to creep in ever so slightly. Armani was fast asleep, his consciousness resting deep within the murky depths and completely out of her reach.

Instinct scowled. She would just have to wait for him to rise back up to meet her in kind in that case.

Until then, she was effectively stuck until he chose to wake up. She was stuck in the muddy, chaotic soup of…higher brain functions.

Instinct would've shuddered if she knew how to properly emulate the movement.

It was a minor setback, but what was done was done. Instinct was so focused on the task she'd been suppressing for the last day that even her own irritation now felt almost secondary.

The time was, technically, up and now her silly cub could finally be sated.

So be it…

Instinct's eyes flicked about in the dark, her elongated pupils adjusting to the poor light as she catalogued her surroundings. She had one priority and one priority only:

Locate a food source.

Never did she think she would have to actually go to the effort of feeding him. He wasn't some chick that still needed a mother bird to do that sort of thing for him.

Or maybe he was, she could rarely tell in her cub's case.

Her gaze continued darting about, assessing everything almost mechanically. She focused for a second on the bowl upon the dresser opposite.

Option: Bowl of decorative fruit.

Conclusion: Not actually fruit.

Instinct dismissed the painting of a deer on one wall for similar reasons. It was her way to catalogue absolutely everything, no matter how ridiculous the option may seem to the outside world. It was just the way she worked.

She then addressed the familiar scent and second heartbeat that she could detect at close proximity:

Aren.

Not that Instinct refered to her as such within her own mind though. No, Instinct only utilised names with Armani, if only so he'd know to whom it was she was referring to.

No, Instinct didn't use names to catalogue things. She considered them clumsy, inaccurate; meaningless phrases that did nothing to identify the thing in question. 'Things' were what they were after all, and Instinct preferred to use impressions and associations over actual titles.

Instinct simply didn't understand why people obsessed so much over associating words with things when they didn't even say what they were.

Regardless, she carried on with her thorough assessment.

Option: Yellow-fur-apple-smell-maturer-than-Cub-hunter-mate-Thing.

Conclusion: Not for eating.

Instinct realised that she'd have to move slightly further afield if she was to succeed in her task.

She gently disentangled herself, pausing briefly to nuzzle the sleeping form with a low growl of affection reminiscent of a purr (as was appropriate for when departing one's mate) before slipping out and into the corridor.

Instinct sniffed the air and began by looking for the obvious things out in the open first: snacks, bars of ambrosia, nectar or the like.

She was of course still just as thorough as before, going so far as to let her gaze sweep over the form curled up like a kitten in one of the armchairs.

Option: Loud-squeezy-long-haired-not-mate-tree-Thing

Conclusion: Anthropomorphic personification of tree. Inedible.

The kitchen was next. Most would have gone there directly there first, but Instinct wasn't the sort to overlook anything en route.

A low growl broke through the night as she proceeded to explore the fridge and cupboards.

Nothing but seasonings and liquid vitamin supplements.

They had cleaned out in advance.

"Irri…tating," she hissed quietly before pulling back.

What now? She thought to herself; what was the next option?

Instinct didn't like this. She was for reacting, not planning. She stored information and provided it later if necessary. Even if her cub wasn't very good at the planning work, it was still his job.

Murmuring disgruntledly under her breath, Instinct trudged over to the front door and pulled it open.

If she had to go and fetch her food, then so be it.

A gust of icy, January sea air blew in across her mostly exposed skin. Not expecting the sensation, Instinct quickly closed the door and hunched down into a ball for warmth on the floor until the heat returned.

Unpleasant…

Instinct inspected her cub's body. Armani was donned only in a pair of boxers and a light cotton tee-shirt.

Insufficient…

Instinct briefly bemoaned being the subconscious drives of a being without fur as she trudged back through into the bedroom and swiped a tunic from the wardrobe.

Finding the food; dressing; doing the actual eating?

She would punish the cub for this.

Instinct considered taking up Armani's blade, or perhaps one of Aren's daggers, but she dismissed it. She much preferred to use her bare hands when forced.

There was always the bow however if it came down to it.

-α-

The night was cold, but the wilds were not quiet. No, the song was strong tonight. It was different hearing it without the cub's mind alongside hers however. He would have paused to shudder, to smile, to briefly be thankful for just being alive and getting to be there, in that moment.

Instinct liked those little moments.

She kept on moving, dismissing the sentiment. If there was one thing Instinct hated, (although she would never in her existence actually admit it) it was solitude. While instinct loathed being in large numbers, she absolutely detested being in any less than two.

It was so big and quiet in the cub's head when he wasn't there.

A rustle in the undergrowth snapped Instinct's attention up. She hunched instantly over, tensing muscles, shifting the centre of gravity, readying to pounce in any direction necessary.

She relaxed after an instant however. She sensed what was coming even before she could see it.

An ethereal white wolf plodded out of the undergrowth and sat down on it's haunches to look up at her. It let out a happy whine, expecting praise.

Instinct fought back the very human compulsion to roll her eyes.

Of course: The cub had sent them out days ago to scare off all the wildlife in the immediate area. That way there'd be no temptation.

Why did she have to go and teach him to be so accursedly thorough?

Instinct wearily dropped to her haunches and nuzzled her face up against the spectral wolf. Regardless of Instinct's opinion of the actual task, it had succeeded in its job, and deserved praise.

With a happy whine, the solidified amalgamation of wild energy evaporated and returned to the ether.

Instinct sighed. Though she hadn't deemed it worthy of paying particular attention to at the time, she suspected her cub would have secured an area right up to the edge of the freeway and nearest town. That meant she'd have to venture beyond it if she was to find prey.

She glanced up at the moon to judge how much of the night remained. After confirming that she had more than enough time, Instinct broke into a run.

Armani's body was weak due to hunger, but Instinct ignored the discomfort. It was taking focus as it was just for her to remember that she had to run on two legs when covering lots of ground.

The trees and bushes rushed past while the scents of the moonlit forest saturated her senses. Cold air seemed to push back harder with each step as she got faster, whilst muscles burned and the heart raced…all these things Instinct knew her cub loved, and she always secretly shared his thrill.

But his thrill was not there tonight, and her own almost felt hollow in comparison.

Instinct found herself on the edge of the forest not long after, having been ferried through it at an almost unnatural speed. She took a moment to gasp for air.

Her cub's heart was still thumping. Muscles tingled from residual effort. These were physical sensations, raw and unfiltered; another thing she wasn't used to.

Instinct stopped when her feet made contact with stone. Her physical strength suddenly dropped. The moon had retreated behind the clouds and the forest had given way to the concrete jungle up ahead.

Even more irritating.

Instinct knew she could go around it, but that would take time. She also knew there was an overpass half a mile to the north, the same one her cub had once jumped off of to escape the Hunters some time ago, but that would take extra effort also.

The quickest route was of course the direct path.

And then she could hunt at last.

Instinct started walking, pausing only once at the edge of the four busy lanes on that side to spare a quick glance about to gauge her timing.

She then walked out over the freeway that barred her from the small town opposite without missing a step.

Car horns screamed their objections and breaks squealed as the figure walked across the lanes while vehicles sped by, missing by only fractions of an inch at some points.

Instinct only had to pause once to let a flatbed pass before continuing. The car behind said truck came close enough to skim the back of her tunic with its side-view mirror.

Instinct reached the central divider, hopped over, and then just kept on going. And after narrowly dodging a pickup truck, and then twirling between a station wagon and a lorry, she made it safely across to the other side.

Luckily, nobody was actually killed in the resulting sixteen car pileup two hundred yards down the road, but it had been a close call to say the least.

Instinct climbed over the final steel dividing wall and carried on in her unbroken straight line across the gas station courtyard.

The station attendant was already there and was staring off at the destruction in the distance with an utterly agape expression.

That was when he caught sight of the boy walking in an almost unblinking daze across the tarmac, "Hey!"

Instinct paused in the same way an animal might when someone whistles over to them. She didn't so much turn as she did arch her entire upper body about to regard the red-haired man with the ill-fitting apron.

The man shifted despite himself. Something in him screamed 'this is…off' for reasons he couldn't explain when that boy looked over at him, "W-were you in that crash?" he asked, pointing off in the distance.

Instinct looked first to his finger before arching herself back about to regard the pileup. She then returned her attention to the man, sniffing in his direction once, "No."

The man shuddered, and suddenly he wasn't so sure if it was actually a boy standing before him. The voice too was just…off. Still, he considered it his civic duty to be a concerned citizen, "W-well did you see what caused it?"

"Yes," responded Instinct flatly.

Silence.

"W-well what happened?"

Instinct cocked her head, curious as to why he even had to query, "They crashed into each other."

"B-but do you know why?"

Another tilting of the head, "I suspect it was due to them being in motion…and then making sudden contact with one another…they then stopped being in motion."

"O-okay," stammered the man, deciding to call it quits at that, "B-but if you need any help you should probably call an ambulance."

Instinct merely hummed with disinterest and then moved onwards. She decided at that point that if anybody else wanted to ask her asinine questions about the principals of cause and effect that evening, she would pointedly ignore them. Such things weren't her department either.

It really is a tiresome world…

-α-

Instinct emerged from an alleyway and onto the main street. Her nose twitched with distaste. The stench of mortal urban life hung heavily in the air like an inescapable fog. So many contrasting smells of smoke and decay warred with each other for her attention.

This was most definitely not her preferred environment.

Instinct did give pause however when she stepped fully out into the open. An automatic door across the road opened suddenly, allowing a wave of recirculated air to waft over her.

Instinct's nose twitched reflexively, her eyes going up to the illuminated red K logo above the building. She hadn't reached the forest yet, but the scents demanded investigation.

And so, with her altered course set, Instinct prowled swiftly across the road like an animal stalking prey and then entered the Circle K.

Moments later, Instinct's borrowed senses were ablaze with possibilities. The growling in her stomach matched the one in her throat. She surveyed the isles with a slow three-sixty turn. There were so many options about her that she was briefly thrown into confusion.

I may have just saved myself some considerable time…

Instinct pressed her palms up against one of the rear freezer units, her eyes training in on the contents. She then yanked it open and swiped up in both arms a ham joint that had to be half the size of her entire upper torso.

Most satisfactory, she purred. Her brow then furrowed however when she realised that it was in fact frozen solid, and that it would take hours to thaw to the point that she could eat it.

Her teeth gritted together.

So near yet so far.

Instinct opened her arms and dropped the joint carelessly down onto the tiled floor with a thud before turning to move onward.

"Hey!" came a barked shout from off to one side.

Instinct's irritation level rose a notch and she arched her head about to regard the balding overweight shopkeeper whose red face was currently glaring back at her, his broom gripped in both arms.

A low, warning growl began building in her throat.

"You gonna pick that up, kid?" he demanded, pointing with his broom at the discarded food.

Instinct spared a glance down, then back to the man again. She began to bear her teeth.

The man found himself gripping his broom just that little bit tighter.

"Were you even considering paying for it?"

Instinct cocked her head perplexedly, mouthing the word without actually saying it.

"Yeah, p-p-pay," he spat, pronouncing the word condescendingly, "You can't just take stuff that ain't yours, kid."

Instinct frowned again and did a quick sweeping glance about. She had forgotten about money. She hadn't expected the need for it to arise. Again, that wasn't her department. "None of this…" she mumbled, "…is mine." It was more a realisation than an actual query on her part.

"No," said the man incredulously, "Are you retarded or something, kid?"

Unfortunately, Instinct wasn't the type to take prey or food when it wasn't hers. That was against the order.

She hissed with frustration, realising she'd just wasted time surrounding herself with things she couldn't have. Abandoning this avenue, she swung about and moved to storm back towards the door.

The man moved to stand in her path, "Hey, I thought I told you-"but he didn't get to finish.

Without even bothering to look, Instinct's palm shot out to the side as she passed and all but hurled the burly figure a good six feet back through the air and right into a display of baked bean cans that came crashing down upon him.

Instinct cocked her head. Though she would never admit it, that minor act of petulance made her feel just a little bit better.

There was a shuffling of tins behind her, but the man didn't get up to follow.

A wise choice on his part.

-α-

Instinct was starting to get even more depressed. Nothing about this was her forte, but the cub was still deep within the land of dreams and oblivious to her distress.

She carried on regardless.

Soon, the forest came into sight just beyond one final parking lot. Instinct's spirits began to rise. She did however find herself coming to a halt as another scent drifted across the air. And in this instance there was no ignoring it.

Her breathing began to increase, salivation began uncontrollably. This wasn't like the subtle scents of produce that she'd detected from within that other building, this was both close and a thousand times more pronounced.

Instinct looked up at the glowing yellow 'M' with something akin to childlike wonder.

Even though she knew about the money issue, Instinct couldn't stop herself. She had to try regardless.

Instinct approached the last building before the forest and walked in through the automatic doors.

A wave of heat and scent assaulted her heightened senses with such force that Instinct had to stop to compose herself.

A lone young woman manned the only active register in the restaurant. Her mousy brown hair was tied loosely back into a bun within a net, which was in turn contained under a hat with the restaurant logo emblazoned upon it.

She looked up from the magazine she'd been engrossed in reading as the young man entered and stopped. The young employee frowned slightly from under her hat as the customer approached uncertainty, almost skittishly. He then stopped a few feet from the counter and tensed before pacing in a brief semi-circular path to look carefully past the young attendant.

"C-can I help you sir?" she asked, cocking one eyebrow up. And she wasn't sure if the fluorescent lights were playing tricks on her eyes, but she could almost swear that the customer's outline was glowing just ever so slightly.

Instinct's attention snapped quickly back to the young woman and she prowled closer. She sniffed once experimentally. Instinct then realised with brief perplexity, that if she ignored the woman's perfume, the rest of her scent seemed to almost blend into the background, as if the very environment she worked in had somehow seeped into her skin.

Instinct leaned even closer in towards the increasingly uneasy young lady. She then leaned about her to look at the pre-prepared food on the racks behind him, "Is this…" said Instinct carefully, eyes trained ahead still, "…is this yours?"

The woman glanced back over one shoulder briefly and then managed to chuckle, "Why no, sir," she said, trying to ignore the bizarre undertone in the…boy's (she supposed) voice, "Those are for the customers, of course. You know, the folks who walk in through the door."

Despite herself, and to her shame, Instinct let out a slight squeak of excitement from the depths of her throat. She looked back towards the door, then down at her own feet, and then back again, as if she really just had to make sure of it.

She had walked in through the door. Ergo, as far as wolf logic works, there really was only one word for this turnabout:

Success!

Instinct was so briefly gleeful that she could've nuzzled the mortal right then and there, but something in that scent put her off just enough to resist the compulsion.

The employee, Lesley, her name badge labelled her as, (that and the fact that she was apparently 'lovin' it', whatever 'it' was) recoiled back a step when the customer suddenly began climbing up over the counter, "S-sir, I'm going to have to ask you to…" but she trailed off when the young teen just slipped right by her and up to the assortment of burgers.

Lesley rolled her eyes and felt her hands ball into fists at her sides with exasperation. She just had to agree to do the nightshift, when all the wackos choose to come in. She was alerted more however when the one she had at first assumed to be a customer began loading up on literally everything that was ready.

"Now, sir!" she snapped, her hand lashing out and grabbing the young man by the shoulder.

Instinct tensed. She then arched her head slowly about and glared darkly at the young woman, baring her teeth, as was appropriate for scaring off smaller animals that were causing a nuisance.

Lesley wasn't quite sure what it was that caused her hand to flick open as if on reflex. It might have been the sudden tensing of what felt like a series of rather toned muscles under her grip, it might have been the teeth, but more than likely it was just those eyes.

Instinct's eyes narrowed at Lesley, "Mine…" she growled, hugging her haul closer.

Lesley backed off a quick step, "Okay, okay. J-just…stay cool, sir. Just…chill."

It wasn't the first time that the restaurant had been held up in its history, but normally it wasn't the quarter pounders and chicken nuggets that the assailants had come for. Most of the stuff was bordering on having to be thrown out soon anyway.

With the night manager out on break, Lesley was forced to resort to the standard operating procedure for situations such as these:

Accept that they just don't pay you enough to care that much.

Lesley just held her hands up and backed off slowly with a shake of her head, "You just…enjoy your meal, sir." This had been a smart thing as it turns out. Instinct had in fact been a split-second away from booting Lesley half way across the dining area. Not that she wanted to, mind you, she just really didn't like people playing games with her when it came to food.

Instinct circled slowly around Lesley, who kept herself rooted to the spot. And with a final, almost dismissive snort of warning, the possessed demigod swung about and departed.

-α-

Instinct prepared to savour her victory as she slumped down onto her haunches against a tree by the edge of the parking lot.

She sniffed about the pile of pilfered sustenance (not that she saw it as such herself though), searching for the most appealing option. Eventually, she just picked out what was nearest. Unwrapping her food, she prepared to begin some seriously unceremonious demolition of the foodstuffs.

That was when the two figures who had been huddled together at the other end of the parking lot, and had in fact been waiting for the lone stranger who went into the fast food restaurant alone to come out again, chose to make themselves known.

Instinct's teeth made contact with the bun when two shadows appeared over her.

"Money and phone…" came the muffled voice of the one on the left. Instinct's eyes flicked up for the briefest of instances.

Two of them; early adulthood; mortal; male. The bottoms of their faces were concealed by brightly coloured bandanas.

Threat level: insignificant.

Irrelevant

Instinct prepared to take a bite again, only for a foot to suddenly lash out and boot her meal clean out of her hands and across the lot.

"You deaf or something, boy?" barked one, and suddenly there was something glistening and sharp in his hand, "Money and phone! Or do you want me to cut you?"

Instinct stared, wide-eyed at the empty spot between her hands.

In that instant, something snapped inside of Instinct. A spring that had been coiling up in her for three days and one detestable, cold, lonely night, suddenly flicked free.

Now, if one were to pay close enough attention to Instinct, they might notice that there was a micro-thin layer of moonlight continually coating both the tips of her nails and teeth whenever she got particularly agitated. And if one had the capability to examine that light close enough, they would discover that it in fact formed, not a blade like the tips of Armani's arrows, but millions of tiny, barbed hooks with serrated edges, designed for nothing other than rending flesh away from bone in one swipe.

Apollo was the only one who had ever been on the receiving end of that particular surprise, and he hadn't been especially happy about it at the time.

Instinct's gaze shifted, locking in not on the knife aimed at her throat, but at the bare forearm mere inches from her mouth.

She reassessed the situation.

Option: Prey forearm.

Conclusion: Not recommended for consumption.

Her eyes narrowed.

However…

-α-

The police car screeched into the parking lot of the McDonalds that the panic alarm had been sounded from just as two figures came bolting up to them in a screaming panic.

One of them began banging on the car window urgently, pointing desperately down at the other end of the lot while wailing something about a 'rabid psychopath' between curses.

That was when both officers noticed the other man, who had doubled over on the floor after running square into the hood of their cruiser and tumbling over it.

The lower left half of his forearm was gone. It was as if something had bitten clean through both flesh, bone and sinew and simply removed a whole portion of his limb in one go.

The two officers exchanged a glance.

Between multi-car pileups, assaults at the Circle K and restaurant holdups, it was turning out to be a rather busy night.

-α-

Instinct remained crouched down with her hoard in her lap. She briefly considered the contents of her mouth for consumption, but considering the inferior nutritional value, even when compared to fast food, she chose to spit the hunk of bloody flesh and bone out to one side.

She opted for a Big Mac instead.

A torch light shone into Instinct's eyes soon after. The sudden bright light assaulted her senses almost painfully until it was lowered, stopping her once more from taking that first bite.

The two officers exchanged glances. The hunched figure certainly matched the description of the one they'd been getting reports in about all night. The officer with the torch couldn't help but notice the almost morbid way that the boy's eyes seemed to reflect the light like those of a cat.

"Okay, young man…" said the officer on the right as calmly as he could; a tall, heavy set man with dark skin and a friendly face he was. The quintessential law official, "Now why don't you just come and take a ride with us."

The man on the left, a slighter white man with cropped blonde hair, slowly reached to unbutton the holster for his cuffs, "We'd just like to ask you some questions about a few strange things we've been hearing tonight."

Instinct's eyes flicked left and right. She could see the stiffening postures hidden behind the calming smiles, the readying of the legs to pounce.

Had fate just gone out of its way to conspire against her tonight?

She began slowly uncrossing her legs, just enough to brace her feet flat in preparation.

The larger officer shook his head slowly, "You don't want to do that, son…"

Instinct hesitated. She knew she would have to defend herself, and these people wouldn't just let her flee if they could prevent it.

But these were not people her cub would attack. These were pack guardians; the ones who kept the cubs, the elders, and the infirm safe from harm. These were people her cub would admire. He would flee or submit rather than fight.

Instinct hissed, and was an instant from pouncing sideways to retreat when both men seemed to stagger. Their eyes fluttered and their gazes became dazed.

A slow swirling of Mist became visible to Instinct's eyes on the ground around the men's feet.

A calm, female voice then sounded off to one side, "He's not the one you're looking for…"

The smaller man found himself nodding slowly as if entranced.

The larger man scowled, shaking his head and blinking, "N-not the…?" he stammered with confusion, his will obviously above the mortal average in terms of strength.

"You were looking for a girl, remember?" suggested the voice.

Both men nodded slowly this time, "Yeah…" breathed the larger one, "W-what are we even doing here?" he asked.

The other just shook his head, "No idea…" he then spared the young man on the ground a confused glance, "Have a nice evening, sir…"

Instinct just cocked her head curiously.

"Don't loiter out here too long, son," finished the larger one, turning away with his partner. They then drove off a moment later, leaving Instinct briefly confused.

Very briefly.

Through her anger and confusion, she had failed to actually sense it.

Instinct wondered how her senses could have been that clouded as to miss that particular presence.

"Do you have any idea how much cleaning up I've-"the stern voice bit off the end of her own sentence however as she sighted the still-crouched figure, "-ah…I see…"

Instinct hunched herself up tighter. Her food was still gripped in front of her as she peered out over her knees at the lone figure standing under a streetlamp barely five metres away.

Now, barring herself and the one she considers her adoptive 'cub', Instinct normally only considers things either 'prey' or a 'thing'. However, there was one single exception to that rule, just one…

That exception was now standing right across from her.

Unfortunately, Instinct's impressions of this one could not really be translated into simple words, or indeed any other mortal term. No, they were far too abstract and complex for that. Had she a book the length of encyclopaedia Britannica, then she might have made an accurate start.

However, if one were to attempt to oversimplify those terms and stretch them to their most basic interpretation, then Instinct's impression of the newcomer could be boiled down to 'That-which-casts-Myself-as-shadow'.

The cub would have just referred to her as 'Mother'. To the rest of the world 'Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt' would have sufficed.

A very long, tense moment followed as Instinct and Artemis just looked across at each other in perfect silence.

After a while, Artemis just let out an almost relenting sigh and asked, "Where is he?"

Instinct's eyes flicked off almost petulantly to one side and murmured, "Dreaming silly dreams."

Artemis almost seemed amused, "Without you?"

Instinct just murmured something inaudible before saying reluctantly, "We've become…disconnected, at least until he chooses to awaken."

Artemis spared her son's form an inquisitive look. She peered into his very self. And indeed, he was quite literally unconscious. A pool of silvery essence seemed to float atop the surface of his mind, effectively animating his body like a puppet, "Disconnected?" the goddess mused, "And whose fault was that?"

Instinct's eyes flashed and her gaze snapped back to Artemis, "His!" she barked (almost literally), "Stupid cub with his stupid obsessions and stupid sentiments..."

Artemis nodded ponderingly. She then extended a hand in Instinct's general direction, "Perhaps this will make you feel a degree more comfortable," and a subtle swirl of silvery light extended outwards about Instincts form, which quickly expanded and shaped itself into a solid glamour.

Instinct had of course coiled up defensively in response to the action. She then spared the temporary shell constructed about her to resemble her cub's female counterpart a brief glance, sniffing at her own arm quickly just once before returning her attention to Artemis.

"Better?" queried the goddess mildly.

"Superficially…" was the grumbled, again reluctant response.

Artemis took a few steps closer, only for Instinct to tense once more.

Artemis paused and sighed wearily. She then took a further step closer and held her hand out, palm up in front of Instinct's face; a basic sign of submission and trust.

Instinct hesitated before giving the limb a customary inhalation. The scent was of course pleasing, and was in fact disarming to the point that she had to resist the compulsion to nuzzle up against the limb. Instead, she just looked dejectedly away and shuffled off to the side somewhat to make room by her tree.

Artemis inclined her head curtly and turned about to settle down alongside her. The goddess spied the mound of food piled up in her lap, "Ah, yes, the fast…" she mused, "I suppose that must have been particularly uncomfortable for you."

Instinct made no response other than to growl slightly.

"Might I share in the spoils of your hunt?" asked the goddess politely, reaching almost offhandedly for a nearby double cheeseburger.

Instinct snatched it away with almost lightning speed from Artemis' closing hand and hugged her haul closer.

"No offering?" mused Artemis almost curiously.

Instinct shuffled around to angle herself away in response with a sulky murmur of "Mine…"

Artemis retracted her hand and almost smiled. She then reached into her tunic to retrieve an ambrosia bar to take a small bite before stowing it away again.

Instinct moved to finally take that long yearned-for bite.

"He must have caused you no end of trouble…" said Artemis suddenly as she stood up once more to take a few paces away.

Instinct flinched, bite interrupted once more. She let out a quiet, irritated growl before responding, "A cub will be a cub, and he shall be one forever. I believe I have you to thank for that."

Artemis spared Instinct a look out of the corner of one eye, as if deciding upon something, or to at the very least test something. She turned away from her then, "To think: you, who was merely an accidental spark kindled into a flame…could become this. One might argue that you have grown with him."

Instinct snorted with distaste, "I am constant. It is the little one who changed. More guidance was needed as he ventured further out from the den, so I merely started speaking loud enough to be heard, nothing more."

"He would be dead if not for you…"

Instinct scoffed, eyes going back to her meal, "You think I'm unaware of that? Someone had to keep watch over him."

Artemis went quiet at that for a brief moment, "Yes…" she finally said, "You have my thanks…for being there when I was not – for when I could not."

Instinct just grunted quietly. Verbal sentiments from others meant nothing to her.

"You do seem weary however…" noted Artemis, this time glancing back just enough to observe reactions.

Instinct chose not to dignify that monumental understatement with a response.

"Perhaps it is time then that you got your reward." Her tone then became just a note gentler, "You have done so, so very well."

Instinct's eyes flicked to Artemis briefly at that point, "You have nothing I want."

Artemis turned about, "Indeed?" she asked, "We shall see…"

Instinct frowned.

"Choose," said Artemis.

That frown tightened, "Choose what?"

Artemis smiled mildly, "A form."

Instinct remained silent. She suspected where this was going, but she needed more data to be certain, "I have a form."

Artemis regarded her, "One you have been forced to endure for long enough. I can give you your freedom. I can remove you from him. Armani has others to protect him now, and he has grown as you've said. He would still have sharpened senses and reflexes also, so you may feel no guilt over your departure."

Instinct said nothing. She'd gone silent, deathly silent.

Artemis narrowed her gaze at her, "I can remake you into any shape you wish."

Deciding to push her test further, and noticing that Instinct wasn't actually responding, Artemis stepped forwards, raising a slightly glowing hand in the process, "Worry not. If you cannot choose, then I shall select one for you that I am sure you will be more than happy with. The events of this night, and indeed whatever it was that ran up to it, prove that it would probably be best for the both of you to part. That is my judgement…"

Instinct was silent even now. Her thought processes had stalled, completely and utterly. Her body had tensed, but not like before when she was readying to strike. No, this was different. Every single muscle, and limb had simply locked up.

Instinct knew what this feeling was: this was the moment before the end; when there's nothing else left you can do in response to prevent the inevitable beyond simply accepting it.

Instinct battled herself to regain control, and then she then waited; she waited for Artemis to retract the offer, to pass it off as some mere jest.

Artemis took a step closer, and no such statement came.

That mean she wasn't being given a choice.

Freedom?

That was what Artemis had promised. She would be loose; free to run and run and never stop. To hunt and live with perfect simplicity and total sublimity. Artemis would take her out of Armani. No more foolishness; no more pointless, tiresome arguments…

Just the hunt; perfect, unending and undisturbed.

That viewpoint lasted a mathematically insignificant fraction of a second before Instinct reversed the concept to view the other side of the coin. And what she saw there was not pleasing.

For there was one very simple word that was far more horrifying to Instinct than freedom was tempting:

Alone.

She would be alone. Alone in a world that was a big, loud, hard, unforgiving place, full of tiresome things and even worse people.

And she wouldn't have her cub with her anymore just to roll his eyes at it for her.

She would take her cub away from her.

That silly, foolish, tiresome, wonderful little…

And Artemis barely even had time to blink when Instinct suddenly exploded at her in a cloud of scattering fast food.

The goddess slipped back a swift step. Instinct's unnaturally sharpened nails came so close to raking chunks of flesh from Artemis' face that the Olympian could feel the displacement in the air over her skin.

Instinct landed with a skid on all fours. Her back was raised, knees crouched. A long, continuous growl rumbled from the depths of her oesophagus.

The world was nothing but a hazy field of red to her. To Instinct, there was only one response now. She didn't care if she was battling the source of her very existence. She didn't care that victory was almost a literal impossibility. To her, there was only what she felt she had to do now:

Rend her to shreds!

Artemis said nothing. Her face was utterly impassive, expression unreadable.

Lost fully in attack mode, in cloud of such desperate need to survive and prevent the most horrifying loss to her conceivable, Instinct reared back, her fingers bent like claws, and she just screamed.

There was no rhyme or reason to the storm of wailing animal voices tearing out of her. It was simply the purest amalgamated vocalisation of the need to survive imaginable. Her aura, no longer controlled as part of her own life force, rippled outwards in every direction, spiralling like some undirected silvery shockwave being carried by that cry.

The windows of the parked cars in the lot around them rippled under the force before imploding outwards, showering the pair in a storm of thousands upon thousands of glistening shards. Alarms blazed from even the undamaged vehicles and Artemis was quite sure that every soul within a one mile radius was just rudely awoken.

With a crunch of broken glass, Instinct pounced upon the goddess of the hunt, shrieking as she moved into an overhead kick.

Artemis blocked with both hands. Instinct rebounded off the block and into a crouch before swinging about to backhand the goddess, only to be deterred once more with a single raised hand.

A silver flash signalled Instinct's summoning of an arrow to extend the reach of her claws, which she brought about to stab into Artemis' neck from the opposing side. The goddess', hand whipped around in turn, blocking the silver tip with her dagger.

Instinct reversed, only for Artemis to echo accordingly, blocking her again with a smash of bronze against enchanted silver. This dance when on for some time; their forms whipping about, silver and bronze clashing unendingly amongst the still bouncing glass shards.

Instinct switched tactics suddenly, going for hand to hand instead, only for each flat-palmed strike aimed at the mid-section to be blocked and deflected, and every clawed lunge to the neck or face smacked aside.

Artemis tried to move away, but it was like trying to escape one's own shadow. Instinct was absolutely unrelenting and perfect in her assault. Every attack left no time for a counter and was followed endlessly by another lunge.

Artemis experimented by countering with a palm to Instinct's chest, only for the possessed demigod to bring her hands up and brace her palms against Artemis' own, springing her into a double somersault over Artemis' head with a swift redirection of kinetic force.

The goddess pirouetted about on her heel and leaned back just in time to block Instinct's fist and then flip her backwards with a foot to the chest, right into the hood of a nearby red convertible. The impact crumpled the metal surface like paper and silenced the vehicle's still-wailing alarm.

Instinct ignored the pain and rolled over, flipping herself back to her feet just in time to dodge Artemis' hands and then shoulder tackle her to the floor.

Artemis merely repeated her previous action however and flipped Instinct clear in a way that she actually classified as 'as gentle as possible'.

Instinct landed once more on all fours, snarling. Her silver/yellow eyes were bloodshot from strain. By this point she was far too lost to consider any logical trains of thought, such as why Artemis hadn't simply swatted her down with superior force by now. Instead, she simply continued attacking.

The battle continued on like this for what seemed like an eternity to Instinct, if only because that she viewed this fight as her existence. If the battle ended in failure, then she did not wish to continue her existence in some different form.

Through her desperation, Instinct could feel the burning. She could feel the slowing of her movements. Her cub's body had been weakened by three days of malnourishment as it was. Going into combat with a goddess in such a state was the sort of thing she would normally be the one to warn against.

Instinct knew she could take Artemis if it were simply a matter of hand to hand combat skill. A shame it wasn't such a simple matter. It really was more a matter of a shadow trying to assault the one creating it. The shadow might not get shaken off, but that didn't mean it could actually do any damage by the end of it.

Artemis gripped Instinct's fist out of the air, swung her about, and hurled her back across the lot before turning to advance slowly upon her once more.

Instinct skidded about on her palms, chest heaving with despair and frustration.

Futile and pointless.

These were words she would have used if her cub were trying such a thing.

She felt her fists clench under her, segments of scattered glass grinding into dust within.

Instinct readied herself to pounce again, only to hesitate when she found herself finding no effective avenue of attack coming to her.

This was it.

Done.

Instinct's body seemed to tremble and she screamed again, only this time it almost sounded like the despairing death-wail of a proud beast that had failed to protect its young from a larger predator, rather than any cry of defiance.

Her vision was blurring for some reason, and her eyes were stinging on top of it.

Instinct braced her legs down one last time. Her cub couldn't hear her now, but she sent a little echo into the back of their shared mind regardless, in the hopes that it might just reach him somehow.

Be well, little one. Try and stay out of trouble while I'm gone…

Instinct sprang forward, uncoiling herself with all that remained of her strength. It was a pointless, suicidal manoeuvre, but she wouldn't go out any other way. She was almost reminded back to a time quite like this, when her cub faced off against his birth mother for the first time; lunging in for one final, overhead strike.

Instinct, despite herself, smiled.

Foolish…

Artemis' hand shot up with blinding speed and clamped onto Instinct's face, snatching her clean out of the air. She held her there suspended before shifting her grip down to the scruff of her neck.

Instinct tried to move, but she suddenly found all the strength in her body being sapped away somehow by that grip.

The world around Instinct began to tunnel away then, as if she were being forcibly submerged down into the depths of some vast cavern.

Instinct was only dimly aware of Artemis' voice echoing about her in the void as she was pushed downwards, further and further. The last sensation she had was of Armani's body being taken gently in the goddess arms and carried away.

"A simple 'no, thank you' would've sufficed…" the voice had said almost dryly.

-α-

Instinct's eyes shot open with a gasp; a rather human reaction that she really didn't find herself doing very often, but she satisfied herself that it was at least somewhat warranted in this case.

She sat up then to survey her surroundings. A thin film of mist coated the ground and a familiar, never ending forest of spaced out trees was spread out all around her.

She stood almost uneasily to her feet and then made her way slowly through the trees, drawn in one particular direction until she came to a clearing with a silver pool in the centre.

A lone figure was sat by it, his back braced against one of the trees with his arms behind his head.

Armani opened his eyes and looked up toward the newcomer. His brow furrowed for a second, "Oh, there you are," he said almost offhandedly before closing his eyes once more, "I was wondering where you'd gotten to..."

Instinct opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before drifting slowly closer.

She dropped hesitantly down and almost scrambled off to one side, as if needing to double check something from a different angle.

She shuffled closer, leaning still left and right like a curious animal. She would have reverted to wolf form, but she was afraid her tail might give something embarrassing away.

Armani opened an eye to regard her, sensing the movement. He opened the other when she leaned right up into his personal space.

He leaned back in kind, "Wh-what are you doing?"

She sniffed him.

"Please don't sniff me. I literally have no discernable scent in this place."

She blinked and leaned up so she was almost coiling about him. He flinched understandably, "Little cub?" she dared to murmur.

Armani looked left and right almost in a panic, "First of all, a) I told you not to call me that; b) Where did you run off to, and finally, c) What is wrong with you?" he almost yelped.

Armani then settled his expression into a glower, "Oh…oh, now I get it: this is you getting back at me for the whole fasting thing, isn't it. First you run off and now you've decided to come and try to weird me out! Well congratulations, crazy voice in my head, you're succeeding in spades! Now, as head head of this head, I command you to desist this instant."

Instinct seemed to deflate all around him, her palms coming to rest on his shoulders. Her forehead slumped into the nape of his neck, "Really is you…"

Armani's scowl deepened, but after a moment of looking at her, he seemed to relent. He rested his hands on her shoulders in turn and sighed, "Alright then, if you want me to apologise for the whole no food thing that much, I am sorry. And…sorry about the whole movie and music threat."

"Were you bluffing?" she mumbled into his neck a moment later, almost seeming too abashed to pull herself free.

Armani rolled his eyes, "At worst, we'd have gotten through the first movie. As for the music, yeah, I'd probably have bitten off my own index finger before hitting the play button."

He rolled his eyes when Instinct made no move to disentangle herself, "If it means that much to you, why don't you just wake me up and I can go get us something. I assume it's after midnight now."

Instinct said nothing. She just sat there wondering for a moment what Artemis' intention had actually been by goading her like that. What had she been trying to prove?

After a spell, and to Armani's surprise, Instinct just shuffled her head before murmuring, "Morning can wait. I suppose, until then…I'm fine with what I have."

Armani just smiled and settled back, "If you say so…"

In that instant, a horrible suspicion about Artemis' purpose began to form within Instinct, and her suspicions were very rarely, if ever, wrong.

She suspected her cub's birth mother may have just attempted to teach her a life lesson.

"Armani…" she muttered, opting to use his name as he preferred.

"Hm?"

"A favour…"

"What is it?"

"Let us never speak of any of this ever again."

Armani shrugged, "If you say so."

Her head shuffled into a thankful nod, "And one more thing…" she muffled, still keeping herself buried for now. There was just one last thing to address.

"What?"

"That town not far from the den -from the…condo…"

"What of it?"

"Probably best you don't go there for a while…"

-Ω-

Fin…

[A/N] And that's what two delayed flights and an uncontrolled plot bunny will do to me. Yup, this story pretty much amounted to ten thousand words of fun fluff involving Instinct going out looking for a midnight snack, fate conspiring to stop her at every turn and her ending up inadvertently destroying nearly everything in her path as a result. But regardless, it was a fun place to revisit in my mind. I suppose you should expect more in the future.