[hider=Joseph Allard][center][b][u]Joseph Allard[/u][/b][/center] It had taken everything in his power to refrain from scoffing during the tests to see if Miss Rozlin Redd could become one of the Leaders of a SOHNS group. The display was unnecessary as far as he had been concerned. Women were unfit to be true Hunters. Her grandfather, Ulric Redd, should have found her a husband long ago, and she should have been using her skills to protect her home from monsters rather than forcing SOHNS to watch her ridiculous displays. Instead, the old man had allowed his granddaughter to become a spinster, too far advanced in age to ever find a suitable match, who paraded in front of the men as if she was their equal. It was preposterous. If he’d been allowed a vote, he would have voted against her becoming a Leader, and he would have also voted to remove her from the group altogether. He clutched his gun as he maneuvered quietly through the trees, the other members of his group fanning out as well. The very idea of it all was simply infuriating. He could never be led by a woman, but if he was assigned to her team, any insubordination could have [i]him[/i] removed from SOHNS. It was despicable that they could possibly value a weak woman over someone as skilled as he was simply because she’d weaseled her way into a Leadership position. The entire thing made him so angry that the need to kill something was nearly overpowering. Thankfully, they’d received some intelligence that a small pack of Lycans had been seen in the area. It was unknown what their ages were, simply that they’d been lurking in this part of these woods for the better part of three months. As this was the night preceding the full moon, it would be their best chance – if not their most dangerous one – to verify the rumors and eliminate the monsters. He heard the faintest rustle and quickly turned, raising his weapon. The Hunter’s thrill coursed through him as a flash of red could be seen between the trees. Joseph raised his crossbow, wanting silence in case more of the pack was around. His finger gently squeezed the trigger, but before he could pull it all the way, he recognized the vibrant cloak. His teeth grit together, but he hesitated a moment, finger trembling just the slightest over the trigger. Then he sighed and removed it altogether. May God damn Miss Rozlin Redd to the pits of Hell, but he wouldn’t join her there. What was she doing out and about the night before a full moon without her group, and why did she insist on that damnable colour for a cloak? Didn’t she know Lycans could see better in the dark than they could? Didn’t she realize she was a walking target? Joseph approached her quietly, in case she’d led the monsters right to them. “Miss Rozlin,” he hissed, his voice clearly irate, “what, may I ask, are you doing in our hunting territory? To my mind, you were not assigned this location or even a group for that matter. If your desire is to see your life ended by monsters or by Hunters mistaking you for a beast, you are making a very good effort.”[/hider] --- [hider=Nikita Devar][center][b][u]Nikita Devar[/u][/b][/center] “What have you learned?” Nikita’s voice was soft but commanding, a skill learned after centuries of leading the Devar Pack. She wore attire of simple cut with an apron that had been stained by fireplace soot when she’d cleaned it earlier. Her Beta, Benedict Olivier, rifled through the papers of his desk. In stark contrast, he wore a finely tailored suit of the latest fashions. It had been starched and pressed with impeccable care. “There are many rumors, but there is nothing concrete, Mistress.” Such was the nature of their relationship. Though she looked to be the servant and he the head of the household, Nikita was the true leader, the Alpha. He deferred to her in all matters except in the presence of humans. It was the only way to survive any more. The Hunters had done their jobs too well, and they now outnumbered Lycans considerably. They’d also gotten smarter about their weaponry and hunting styles. What once had been a minor annoyance of a lone Hunter here and there had become an intricate society whose sole purpose was to destroy. This was Nikita’s worry, that those Youths who had gone missing from her Pack had been murdered by Hunters. Still, there was hope. No bodies were left to rot or on display as a warning as Hunters seemed wont to do. This meant that they had either gotten lost or they’d been detained or trapped somehow. She still suspected Hunters, but perhaps they were attempting to gather information from her people. Unfortunately, the Hunters had done an excellent job. Not one of the three who had been lost had responded to her calls which meant they were either too far away to hear or they’d had their voices taken somehow. Regardless, the Ancient would not leave them to be tortured at the hands of such disgraceful beings. While she was admittedly worried that they would give up the information about the rest of her Pack, her first thought was for their wellbeing. No member of her Pack would be left behind or forgotten so long as they still breathed. She had not failed at that commandment for herself yet, and she would not suffer it now. Nikita sighed, rubbing her temples for stress relief and focus. Her burdens were heavy, but she would bear them gladly if it meant keeping her people safe. “Nothing concrete means we could be on a wild goose chase for months or years. What do you have that is the most promising?” Benedict slid a pamphlet across the desk to her. She glanced at it, dark brows furrowing. “Who wrote this? How could they know information like this? How do we know this is not a military exploit but a private one?” She asked. The pamphlet revealed details about a company who had imported rather heavy artillery. The company apparently could not be traced to an origin or a buyer. “The author and publisher are anonymous, unfortunately. We cannot learn the truth without a lead.” The Beta replied. A low growl rumbled in Nikita’s throat, more animalistic than she’d intended. Even as an ancient, the tug of the full moon was still upon her, she simply could not be compelled to transform by it. “This could be SOHNS, outfitting themselves for something big. This could mean war. Tomorrow, early morning, I want you to send Christopher out. I know the Youth will be tired after his transformation, but I cannot spare any others at this time. He is in position politically to find us a lead. Make sure he knows how imperative it is that he succeeds.” “Yes, Mistress.” Benedict responded. “I will go to the caves and check on the Youths. The others are wandering about but not alone and not loudly. You may join them if you like.” Nikita told him. “I will join them.” He told her, but as she turned to go, he laid a hand on her hers. “Mistress, would you not prefer to run with the Adults tonight? It could be a release. I know you have been under a great deal of stress lately.” Nikita pulled her hand away. “The stress is not my own but shared by us all, Benedict. You run with the Adults tonight. I will need you with me in the cave tomorrow. Then, I will run with the Adults on the third night while you watch over the Youths. Does that sound fair to you?” “It does. Thank you.” He replied, so she turned and left for the caves that were outfitted to contain the Adolescents and Youths who did not yet have the necessary control over their transformations to be permitted to run freely with the rest.[/hider] --- [hider=Winnie Felton][center][b][u]Winnie Felton[/u][/b][/center] “Is this not the most marvelous garb I have ever sewn, Miss Stella?” Winnie Felton asked the Lycan. The woman was beautiful with her dusky skin, tight curls, and gorgeous amber eyes. She was a direct contrast to Winnie who had pale skin, blonde hair with loose curls, and blue eyes. Still, the Felton was not petty enough to be jealous. All living beings were made by God’s own hand, and He would not have made Winnie and Stella so different without a purpose. So it was because of God’s love for Lycans that humans should love them, too. “Yes, Miss Winnie.” The young Lycan replied. “Now, I know you cannot wear it tonight because of the full moon rising tomorrow evening, but you just drink your tea and we can try it on you to check the fit.” She held up a dress that was made of a beautiful, orange fabric with white trim. It would look terrible with Winnie’s colouring, but it would be perfect for Stella’s complexion. She knew how to dress the wards of Chapple Sanctuary, and it was her favorite activity and chore of all she had on the entire estate. A well-dressed person was a happy person, and God loved when His subjects were happy while living pious lives. Stella lifted the teacup to her lips, hesitating. Winnie noticed the slightest tremor in the woman’s hand. “There, there. All will be well. We will care for you.” She placed a gentle hand on Stella’s back to comfort her, being careful to not allow her silver bracelet to touch the other woman. The tea seemed to affect her the worst of all the wards in the Sanctuary. Sometimes she would be terribly ill all night while others would simply be tired. Still, as the Lycan who had been the first to seek refuge in the new and improved Sanctuary, even before Winnie was born, Stella had proved herself the most obedient and well behaved of all of the Chapple’s charges. Winnie handed Stella a handkerchief when the latter had finished the tea, and the woman promptly coughed terribly into it for a long moment. She even dry heaved a little, prompting the fair coloured young woman to bring a basin. “Perhaps we should take you straight to the cellar, Miss Stella. You can get some rest before the moon rises.” Stella nodded, unable to catch her breath enough to speak. “Cousin,” Winnie called through the door, “will you assist me in taking Miss Stella to the cellar to rest?” The door opened, and Gideon holstered his gun, stepping into the modest bedroom. “Now, Cousin Winnie, you know as well as I that if Uncle Silas did not pummel me into dust for allowing you into the cellar, then Grandfather Byron would. I will take Miss Stella. You will go to the kitchens and assist my mother. She asked that you help young Judith make dinner. It should be just about ready, but with you it will be quicker.” “Yes, I suppose you are correct. Miss Stella, go with Cousin Gideon. Cousin, you had better be gentle with her. Cousin Ezra was a little too rough last month with one of our other charges. You should not like to receive the same reprimand.” Winnie warned. Ezra Chapple had badly bruised the face and arms of Mister Kendrick while dragging him into the cellar for the change. The problem had been that Kendrick hadn’t been resisting the relocation in the first place. Unnecessary force was frowned upon by God, and Ezra had been placed onto sentry duty for three weeks as well as isolation from everyone, family and Lycans alike. He had not harmed a Lycan since. Gideon shook his head. “I would never do such a terrible thing to any of our charges, especially not to a woman. My brother was out of line, and he deserved his punishment. I will never allow myself to identify with such brutish behavior. Come with me, Miss Stella. Can you walk or would you prefer I carry you?” “I believe I can walk. Thank you, Mister Gideon.” She replied, drawing a smile from his lips. He approached her gently supporting her with his left hand which lacked the silver ring he wore on his middle finger. As he led the Lycan from the room, Winnie gave a soft sigh and gently laid the dress over her bed, caressing it gently. She would see Stella in that dress within the week, but it might have to wait until after the full moon time. Then, the Lycan would be better rested and better able to appreciate Winnie’s skills. Instead, she made her way downstairs to the large kitchen. “How did Miss Stella like her new dress?” Winnie’s younger sister, Judith asked the moment she saw her sister. “She was not well enough to try it on. We’ll see it on her in a few days. How far along is dinner?” Winnie responded. “We’re almost done. Can you begin dishing it onto the metal plates for the Lycans? Grandfather said that we took too long and they must eat in the cellar where they can be better guarded until the moon rises.” Judith informed her. Grandfather Byron probably hadn’t said it, but it was probably Aunt Louise’s fault the food had been too delayed. They always ate dinner earlier than usual during the nights of the full moon, and while Aunt Louise, Judith, and their mother, Vivian, made the best cooks in the household, Louise had been under a lot of stress lately. Perhaps it was the increase in mouths to feed in the last two months, but she’d been having a harder time keeping up. Winnie’s mother had whispered to the girls that Louise could possibly be pregnant again, but there was no proof just yet. Winnie cast a sympathetic eye to Aunt Louise, noticing how the dark circles under her eyes had gotten deeper. Louise noticed and gave a curt look that put the seventeen-year-old right to work, dishing out the food onto plates. Her twin, James, along with Gideon and Margaret would be in soon to collect the meals, but that wouldn’t be until all of the Lycans were safely tucked away behind the bars of their cells for the night. It was a shame that their increased numbers would force some to share cells, but those who drank the tea would not be roomed with those who had not. Additinally, Byron had discussed expanding the area now that they had welcome more Lycans into Chapple Sanctuary. This way, they could each have their own cells in the near future to reflect the fact that each had their own room in the manor as well. Until then, they would just have to make do with what they had. [/hider]