[center][b][color=ed1c24]The Black[/color][/b][/center]
"Follow him."

Sound on the other end of the phone.

"Your wounds will heal. Follow him." Fire glowed around the face of a muscular, powerful man. Scruffy face with the look of a man who had seen far too many winters. Where smiles went to die. Inside one of the caves they found in Greyville, The Black stood amongst his other spies. The entire pack was not present. Just The Black, his son Eric, and another of his trustworthy scouts; Jake. His follower who had escaped Thomas' traps and inflicted wounds on him was Deon. "Deon. I won't ask again." Silence on the other end, then sound. "Good. Text me the address of the hospital he ends up at." Click, the phone slipped into his pocket. One step ahead of everything. The Black turned to his son.

"Put the fire out. We're moving out. I'll need you to keep watch at the hospital for suspicious humans. Notify me immediately."

"Are you going to kill him?"

"No. He might lead us right to your sister."

"If she's even here."

"I've been a tracker for many years. The trail continues here… I need to put fear and doubt in these hunters anyway."

The orange glow within the cave snuffed out. Darkness as the men swiftly ran through the woodlands of Greyville. Running with unnatural grace and speed through the forests. Seeing in the night what no one else could see. Smelling and hearing what humans would miss. Soon the text came rolling in. Not long after, The Black appeared at the hospital.

"Look casual." To this, Eric and Jake pulled out cigarettes and smoked. Looking around at anyone walking in or out of the hospital. The Black trotted forward. Boots on his feet. Dark jeans and a tight black shirt. His eyes an unnatural golden color that he couldn't turn off anymore. A trait he had gained from killing too many people. Though, he attributed it to a medical issue. Still, The Black did not fear to be seen by hunters like this. He disappeared into darkness much to quickly. The Black entered the hospital and exchanged looks with Deon who acted as a waiting visitor, sitting on one chair. Hiding the wound on his back and his leg. Healing quick.

"Excuse me, my son was just admitted in here."

"Name?"

"Young. Marcus Young. His name is…"

"Thomas?"

"Yes."

"One moment." The nurse left the desk for a moment. The Black leaned over the desk to see her computer. Thomas' information posted up. Including the room number. Within a moment, The Black was gone as she arrived back at the desk. Moving away and heading up an elevator. He walked down the hall. Boots slammed against the ground with heavy, ominous thuds. Arriving at his room and opening the door once Thomas's nurse had left. The Black strolled in. Grabbing a chair and taking a seat.

"Hello, Thomas." The Black pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. "You don't mind, do you?" He didn't care. The Black lit the cigarette and smoked near Thomas's bed. Even when he lit the cig, his golden glare never left Thomas. 

"Those are some wounds on you. Must've been one hell of a knife fight." Deep breath.

"Unless it was an animal you were hunting. A wolf maybe…"