Lost & Found

Chapter One

The plan is simple.

A pack member-hunter probably- will be chosen to act as the bait: an unassuming, easy target to draw out the rogues. Once the rogues are lured out, the first wave of soldiers hidden in the forest will attack and chase them into a nearby clearing. There, they will subdue them. A second wave will be waiting to catch any loose rogues. Once they are rounded up they will be taken to our jails.

Simple.

Meanwhile, the healers hidden in the trees will come down once the beta tells them to by blowing a special whistle only they are trained to hear. I review the plan in my head again and again, unease churning in my gut. Shifting on the tree branch, I take a deep breath and try to calm my racing heart. This wasn't my first battle, but my body always acted as if it was. It will be fine. The pack I belong to is strong. There is nothing to be worried about. The thoughts I try to reassure myself with don't slow my racing heart and I take another deep breath, inhaling through my nose and exhaling out my mouth. My heartbeat slows a fraction.

The sound of snarling kicks my body into overdrive and I dig my nails into the bark of the tree. How many wounded would I have to tend to after this? Paws hitting the grassy earth reach my ears as they draw closer and I hold my breath, the metallic nauseating smell of blood tinging the air as wolves emerge from the forest. They burst into the clearing with snapping jaws and whirl around on my packmates, snarling, as soon as they have the room to do so. I rock forwards slightly before a hand stops me. Jumping, I turn to see Darcy gripping my bicep. She gives a small shake of her head. I swallow and nod with a blush before following her back towards the tree trunk. "Sorry," I whisper. 

She offers me a grim smile. "I don't want you to fall," she murmurs. I nod and tense at the sound of a growl followed by a yelp and a high pitched whine. 

So it begins.

Darcy's grip on my arm tightens. I place my hand over hers and give it a reassuring squeeze. "It never gets any easier," I murmur.

"It never will."

We stay huddled together, backs pressed against the tree trunk, and listen to the cries of those fighting below. With every silenced snarl, I pray it isn't one of our own. The battle rages on. After triple checking that my med-pack is securely tied down, I sneak forward on the branch, trying to get a better view through the leaves. Bodies are everywhere, kicking, biting scratching. Snarls and whines are heard all around us. The scent of blood hangs thickly in the air and I choke back my gag as I shimmy back. "It doesn't look like the fight is ending anytime soon," I whisper to Darcy. 

She sighs and presses the heels of her palms into her eyes. "This has been going on for hours. We even sent the second wave in. What kind of rogues are they?"

"Stubborn ones."

Darcy smiles at that and lets out a humorless chuckle. "I don't get paid enough for this," she groans.

I snicker. "None of us do." We continue to lay low and I fall into a fitful sleep. When I wake, I estimate it's sometime in the evening. "What time is it?" I ask, turning to Darcy as I run a hand through my hair and wince at the small pieces of bark I pull out. I swipe at the drool on my chin and grimace. Gross.

"I don't know." She turns to the medic on the branch next to us. He sits up straight. I look over. 

"Jack," I whisper,  stretching, "do you know what time it is?" 

He doesn't answer. 

I whisper his name again. Jack holds up a hand and slowly creeps forward on the branch. Peering through the leaves, he searches the battlefield before turning to us and grimacing. Darcy leans forward and listens closely. She looks at Jack. I lean forward slightly as well and swallow thickly as dread pools in my stomach. "Duty calls," I choke out as I scoot towards the tip of the branch to catch a glimpse of the now quiet battlefield. The only sounds that reach my ears are the moans of the injured. Seconds later the high pitched cry of a whistle cuts through the air.

Time to go.

I quickly move to my med-pack and untie it from the branch before swinging it on my back and shimmying down the tree, Darcy and Jack close behind. My feet hit the ground and I'm off, searching for the nearest pack member to heal. Someone groans to my left and I veer towards the sound. Kneeling down next to them, I search their body for wounds, trying to figure out which bloodstains are theirs and quickly spot the source: a mean gash across their thigh. Cursing, I open my pack and pull out all the necessities to treat the wound, balancing them on my bag. I cut their pant leg open and pour some clotting powder onto the area to staunch the blood flow. Taking a clean bandage, I place it over the wound and apply pressure while reaching for the gauze. I begin to wrap their leg. I'm almost done tending to the wound when the sound of an unfamiliar battle cry pierces the air. I freeze when I see a second wave of rogues charging towards us to attack.