A Wolf's Howl, A Fairy's Wing

In the pale light of early morning, where the sun barely grazes the horizon, casting long, ethereal shadows across the frozen Norse tundra, a wounded werewolf in heavy black armor thudded through the snow on all fours.

His dark form was a blur against the white snow, a stark contrast to the tranquil and unyielding wilderness that enveloped Frostvik.

The werewolf, obviously Erik, left behind a flurry of snow swirling in the air as he navigated the treacherous terrain. His paws crunched on the snow, and each breath he exhaled materialized as a cloud of vapor, quickly dissipating in the chill air.

Around him, the taiga forest stood as an ancient witness to his flight. The dense conifers, laden with snow, formed a formidable wall of green and white, their branches swaying gently in the frigid breeze.

As he put distance between himself and his place of birth, Erik moved with a desperate urgency, propelled forward by an innate drive to escape and tend to his and Elora's wounds.

Frostvik, with its few buildings and ongoing battle, became smaller and smaller, swallowed by the vastness of the landscape, as he disappeared into the embrace of the ancient forest.

Occasionally, he staggered a little and coughed out some blood, which kept evaporating through a concentrated lightning charge before it even hit the ground. There was no need to make Frostfang's job of tracking them down any easier than absolutely necessary, after all.

It had been no more than a minute since he and Elora left Frostvik when a dark green aura suddenly began to flow across his body.

Erik immediately felt a soothing sensation spread throughout his body, reducing the pain and refiling his energy reserves. Slowly, his body began to stitch itself back together while he ran.

The energy flow was intermittent and a little weak, however. A clear indication of Elora's own weakness.

"Stop it, Elora," Erik growled inwardly as he continued to run, leaving Frostvik behind. "I'm fine! Conserve your energy and go to sleep!"

"S— So am I!" came the frail yet determined response. "I can sleep… and recover later… you need healing now!"

When Erik was about to retort, his thoughts were interrupted by a powerful, almost dizzying howl that echoed through their surroundings. It was a howl filled with frustration and anger.

Inside his soul, Elora snickered weakly, "It seems Frostfang has… figured out he's not going to get… past Björn so easily."

Trees kept zipping past as Erik felt himself quickly approaching the others.

Thinking of Frostfang made Erik narrow his eyes, gnash his teeth, and seethe with anger. "Frostfang…" he growled through gritted teeth. "I'll make him pay for what he did to you."

When it happened, all he could think about was getting Elora to safety and following the plan. Yet, now that he had some time to settle down, the rage came crashing down.

Elora chuckled softly. "Normally, I'd be… all for that. In fact… I'd advertise for killing him slowly…" she began with apparent malice in her voice.

Then she sighed, "But since it was… an accident, and your mother might be… upset if he dies, maybe we can make do… with taking an arm or a leg? I'd rather not… have my first meeting with your mother spoiled… by the fact that you killed… her favorite student because of me."

While Elora absolutely wanted Frostfang dead for what he did, accident or not, she felt a little nervous about meeting Runa, and she didn't want to give Erik's mother any reason to resent her.

Or at least, no more than was already there since she certainly had a hand in Björn's death already.

Erik huffed and kept gnashing his teeth and fangs. When he saw those spikes ripping apart Elora's small body back in Frostvik, he had felt his soul quiver and his mind quake. When he recalled that image now, endless fury and a desire to rip Frostfang apart filled his body.

Elora noticed his feelings and sighed again, "I know how you feel… I would have reacted the same… if our roles were reversed… But just consider it… alright? I want Frostfang dead, too… but not as much as… I want a good relationship with your mother…"

Her voice became weaker and weaker as she talked, but her magic kept flowing out to heal Erik.

Hearing the weakness in her voice shook Erik free from his fury, and he quickly said, with deep concern in his mental voice, "Fine, fine! I'll think about it, but only if you stop healing me and go to sleep!"

Elora chuckled softly and mumbled, "D… Deal…" while slowly drifting off to sleep. The dark green aura receded from Erik's body.

Luckily, it had already had some effect. He felt a little better and didn't have to constantly cough up blood anymore, even though he was very far from being back in top shape.

'If I actually had Frostfang at my mercy right now, I don't think I could resist simply gutting him,' he thought angrily. 'But since I don't… hopefully I'll be able to calm down enough by the time that day rolls around.'

His eyes narrowed as he made himself a promise, 'But even if I can resist killing him, I'll absolutely take my pound of flesh…'

As he shook his head and pushed thoughts of vengeance to the back burner, he looked ahead of him.

He had now been running for about two minutes, and with the girls leaving Frostvik no more than a minute before him, he could already see one werewolf and one strange amalgamation of three bodies running through the trees, not far in front of him.

In all the commotion with Elora, Erik had forgotten to send a message to Emma that he was fine, so when his heavy, thudding footsteps started coming closer, Astrid quickly turned around, Emily still in her arms, to see what was behind them.

When she and the white-haired girl on her back saw Erik, they both sighed in relief.

"Master!"

"Erik!"

They both yelled, with joy in their voices.

"Hey girls," he said with a sincere smile, as the happiness in Astrid and Emma's faces pushed his thoughts of revenge even further down.

At least for now.