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Jack was missing.Abigail was freaking out, John too, everyone. Arthur was scared too, terrified because he could smell them. The Braithwaite boys. There was no chance of him getting away from anyone right now though, and they were getting further and further out of his reach. He needed a distraction to slip away, otherwise, they’d never let him go, maybe accuse him of not helping. That’s when Charles came along.“Do you know where he is?”He nodded, legs itching to run and get the pup back. Jack wasn’t like him, but he sure as Hell loved him like he was part of his pack. The same went for everyone. They were his pack. His family. Charles brushed his hand over Arthur’s forearm, drawing the man’s attention back to him.“Go. Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it.”Arthur sighed heavily, “Thanks, Charles. I owe you one.”Charles shrugged but didn’t deny it and stepped in front of Arthur ready to distract anyone who cast a glance his way. Not wasting any more time he quickly stepped away further into the surrounding trees until the camp’s flurry of activity was no more than a buzz in his ears. He wouldn’t be able to fully transform, not so close because the snapping and rearranging of his whole body would draw attention. Well, his screams would draw attention.This wasn’t the first time he’d use some semblance of his abilities as a wolf as a human instead. It wasn't intended this way, but Arthur was different and he knew it. Without wasting another beat he started running. Faster than a horse, no more than a blur between the trees he dashed in between them, weaving in and out and jumping over logs and other debris until he was free of the forestry and out onto the plains of the meadow.The boys hadn’t gotten too far, but Arthur worried most about the open space. If anyone saw him perform the feats that he could, they wouldn’t hesitate to brand him a devil and open fire. The joys of being in the bible belt. And the fact that he truly was some sort of devil, what if not a devil could turn into the monstrous beast that he could? He didn’t have time to be debating this.Legs and adrenaline pumping Arthur veered right and almost fell onto all fours, feeling it was more natural but in this human body it would be too difficult. The Braithwaite boys were following the shore of Flat Iron, giving Rhodes a wide berth which would all the more help Arthur in his attack. The fewer people around the better.He was drawing closer now, could see the blobs of their horses in the distance, and then he stopped. What would Jack think if he witnessed this? Watched his Uncle Arthur violently bring death upon those men that had taken him. What if they’d harmed the boy though? Surely not. Then again, who kidnaps a boy, even amid a gang war?A little bit closer, he told himself, to paint a fuller picture and get an idea of what was going on. He continued through the trees, keeping to the shadows letting them shield his presence. Arthur stopped a few feet away from the horses, 3 in total, 3 brothers. Jack seemed alright, riding in front of one of them. Arthur took in a deep breath. No blood, but Jack was petrified, fear rolling off of him in waves. It made Arthur’s heart ache. He considered tearing out their throats then and there but he couldn’t risk traumatising Jack, or worse, hurting him.He would wait for them to get to the manor, and strike during the night, when he could turn and be at his strongest. Hopefully, that would be before the others got a chance to figure out where they were going. The night was due to fall soon, and he couldn’t wait for it any longer.Arthur arrived at the manor before Jack’s kidnappers, watching from the field, leaning against one of the fences. Far enough away and relaxed to avoid suspicion if anyone did see him, but close enough that his enhanced vision could see what was going on even from his position. He wasn't sure what to do about the noise he would make during the transformation if it would alert the Braithwaites but that didn’t matter. They’d all be dead anyway. He wasn’t taking any chances.When the sky had darkened significantly and Arthur was sure it was the right time he took off his clothes, not in the mood to ruin them again. He tucked them safely out of the way and then stood there naked as the day he was born. He wasn’t too bothered when nobody was around, like now, used to waking up naked after a night of running around and killing shit.Then he settled into the transformation. It was painful, it always was. It ran through his veins like lightning strikes, repeatedly hitting the nerves beneath his skin as it churned and twisted and gave way to fur. Legs broke beneath him, reforming, as with his arms, hands becoming more paw-like with claws that elongated from his nail beds. A long snout elongated from his face, which became more canine-shaped, human ears peeling away as wolf ears formed flat against his skull. He was screaming before, but now it was more of a growl as his throat closed in on itself, vocal cords dying away until speech was no longer an option. His spine grew longer, bones popping and crackling as a tail formed at the base.And it was finished. He stretched out his limbs, coughing up a bit of blood as he always did after his transformation.“Who’s there?!”Someone had heard the ruckus after all. Arthur didn’t give them time to see his hulking, beastly frame before he was ripping heads from shoulders and killing screams in their throats. That was that. Onto the main event.Arthur bounded across the field, paws striking the ground silently despite his size, moving through the shadows like the monster he was. He didn’t entirely blend in, shaggy coat a dirty blonde rather than dark brown or black, but it was better than anything and he was able to take the two boys out standing guard behind the house. Either he went in quietly or threw himself through the window stirring up as much mess as he could.With a heavy scent of the air, he couldn’t smell Jack anywhere in the house. Basement? He knew for a fact the boy was there, and had seen him taken into the house. So stirring up trouble it was. Without much more thought, he smashed through the window, landing on the ground with a grunt, glass shards littering the ground and his fur. Someone screamed but he didn’t let them draw their gun, ripping into them like a chew toy. A loud bang made him pin his ears down but didn’t stop him from lunging at the man who’d somehow missed despite Arthur being much more of a target now than he would’ve been as a human.He was roughly the size of a smaller-than-average horse.Charging through the door he chomped down on the nearest guy with a gun, ripping his guts from his stomach and throwing them across the living room, spraying his brothers in his blood. Instead of attempting to fight back now, they were scrambling for escape but Arthur’s big furry body jumped in the way and blocked them from it, ripping into one of their faces, tearing his eyes and nose and the skin of his cheeks from his face. A gurgled scream died on the man's lips as Arthur bit into his throat, violently pulling his trachea out.The rest of the assault was a blur of blood and screams, all things Arthur was used to both as man and wolf. Finally, he reached the main bedroom of the Braithwaites’ matriarch. The old woman was sobbing and clutching at a pistol, her aim wavering as he stepped through the door, snarling through a blood muzzle. She fired at him, it didn’t miss, but the bullet that sunk into his shoulder didn’t so much as even sting. Catherine cried out as her only defence did nothing against him.Arthur growled and pounced, taking her down to the floor in a violent flurry. She screamed as his paws dug at her stomach, tearing at her insides, snapping the bones inside of her rib cage. Her mouth filled with blood as he continued to dig at her, like how his dog Copper used to dig at the earth trying to find whatever was buried there. Maybe Arthur was searching for something, an answer to how she could be so cruel. When he didn’t find one, she was dead, and he held no regret for his actions.Jack was his priority. The giant wolf lumbered down the stairs and snuffled around until he found the basement door, he pushed it open and paused before descending the steps. Jack would have no choice but to see him like this, the best he could do was hope he was asleep and gently take him away from the violence. Quietly he went down into the basement, and as luck would have it the boy was asleep, or at least too sleepy to even realise what was going on.He could smell the drugs. Bastards. At least they were all dead.Being as gentle as he could, he managed to manipulate Jack onto his back. Automatically his little fists closed around clumps of his fur, ensuring that he wouldn’t fall off. Arthur made a soft wuff and took the boy back to the surface, avoiding as much of the carnage as he could manage as he made his escape through the back door instead of the window this time. If the top floor of the mansion burst into flames as he left, he wouldn’t give himself too much credit, all he had to do was kick over a candle brass.He soon found himself halfway across the field pausing and looking back. The gang had arrived, and he could smell their devastation. A hint of guilt passed through him but he pushed it away, they would see Jack well and alive soon enough.Arthur sped up into a trot as he pushed through the gate out onto the road and into the forest, the forest was dangerous at night for a little boy, but not every little boy sat on top of a giant man-eating wolf that quietly snarled at any hint of danger or malicious intent from the surrounding creatures. The coyotes and foxes yipped and scattered as soon as they saw the intense glow of his gaze.They made it back to camp just as those who’d rode out to the manor did, everyone was wide awake and crowding around them. Abigail cried out when John held her arms and told her the news, that the manor had burned down and Jack had probably been inside. Arthur lowered his head if only he could tell them about what he was. He moved closer, eyes piercing through the darkness. Charles moved closer too, his own eyes catching on the blue glow, sparing one last look back before approaching.“Arthur did-” He sighed heavily in relief, “You got him.”
Of course.
Charles picked Jack up from off of Arthur’s back and held him close, awkward with a child in his arms but relieved nonetheless.“What are you going to do now?”Arthur stared, then looked back. How else would he communicate, that he had to go out and hunt and get his fill because he couldn’t turn back any other way? Charles nodded, and then his face grew concerned.“How do I explain… I’ll figure it out.”He turned away from Arthur and headed back toward the tree line, stopping just for a moment.“Be careful out there.”
Always am Mister Smith.
Charles stepped into camp and called out to Abigail and John. Arthur stayed to watch the aftermath, the parents sprinting forward to take Jack from Charles’ arms, which instantly woke the boy up. Abigail was crying, snuggling Jack close. Hosea laid a hand on Charles’ shoulder, making the man jump.“How did you find him?”“I didn’t, Arthur passed him off to me just now before going back out.”It was a weak excuse but there wasn’t another one for it, and it wasn’t entirely untrue. Hosea nodded sceptically but everyone else seemed to accept it, gathering around Jack, Sean loudly stating that they should have a party to celebrate his return. All movement stopped when Jack piped up suddenly“There was a big dog mama, it saved me!”“What do you mean Jackie? What big dog?”Charles, probably on instinct, looked back at him, his blue eyes still glowing through the tree line. Everyone else’s gaze followed his, Jack pointing, “There!”And then Arthur ran.