When the unnatural current tore Byrce from Thea, sending him into a rock, her further downstream, and making his teeth tear a rip in her outer dress, Zane let out a bark of his own. His ears drawn back against his head, he dove into the water without hesitation as Thea went under the second time. The wolf followed after the werewolf, rushes of water pushing [i]upstream[/i] against them instead of down with Thea’s path, the river itself working against them despite its natural course. 
	On shore, Thea’s attention snapped hopefully toward the river at the familiar howls.
	“Shut it!” the bearded man hissed as he gripped Thea’s free wrist in his rough hands, and wrenched her arm behind her back. He scowled at the river as the wolves swam into sight, and muttered foully beneath his breath. “Where’s that blasted Mage?” He looked to his companion, who had drawn a cylinder from his thick belt. “Ready for a fight!”
	The younger man smirked. Without dropping the rope, he flicked his wrist, and the cylinder expanded out into a conical rod about three feet long. 
	“[i]It’s got magic?[/i]” Bearded-man hissed as the werewolf managed to create a sheet of ice.
	Zane followed at Byrce's flanks as he scrambled up after the larger dog.
	Before either Bearded-man or Young-guy could do much else, a burst of frigid wind slammed into them as Byrce jumped, pushing the two men away from each other. Bearded-man pulled Thea with him, but she took advantage of his loss of balance; she yanked free of him, and shoved him back as hard as she could, making him stumble to the ground. Across from them, Young-guy had tripped on a fallen log, making the rope tighten and pull Thea awkwardly to the side, but he still managed to keep a hold on both rope and weapon.
	Thea gasped when she felt something else wrap her wrist, panicked as she turned her head, before she realized it was Byrce. She inhaled when a sharp cold encompassed her wrist, forming ice around the rope. She twisted and pulled at it to try to break it as Young-guy quickly got to his feet with well-trained movements. Zane jumped from the ice to the shore, boring his fangs as he went after Young-guy, as Byrce tugged on Thea’s wrist for her to get on him.
	Young-guy’s hood had slipped back, revealing hazel eyes, well-groomed sandy-blond hair, and a gnarly set of burn scars running over the left side of his face that made the edge of his eye twist upward. With the push of a button as the wolf lunged at him, bluish-white strands of electricity arched to life on his weapon from the thicker hilt to its thinner tip in all its sizzling glory.
	Thea paused in her struggle against the rope, her heart skipping a couple beats. A Scientist. If they were [i]waiting[/i] for a Mage, then the young one, at the least, had to be a Scientist.
	“Zane! No!” she called in warning, trying to draw the wolf’s attention away, but it came too late, the wolf already leaping through the air.
	In a swift, practiced movement, Young-guy gripped the hilt in both hands, and swung it like a club at Zane.
	 With a sickening [i]crack[/i], electrified [i]sizzle,[/i] and a pained, shocked yelp from Zane, the rod hit its mark as Young-guy put his weight into the attack. Zane was knocked to the side, his pelt smoldering in a line down his face as he fell hard to the ground, his muscles twitching from the electric shock.
	“I [i]hate[/i] wolves,” Young-guy scoffed, twirling the rod in one hand.
	Thea glanced between Byrce and Zane, with no intention of leaving Zane behind, wounded. With an enraged cry, she ran at Young-guy, scooping up a fairly thick branch that may have once belonged to the log as she went. 
	Meanwhile, Bearded-man got to his feet during Zane’s attempted attack. From a sheath hanging from his belt, he drew a single-edged short sword with a barrel down its center, allowing him to rest the non-sharpened side in his left hand. A metal box with a couple sizes of holes cut in its top replaced the sword's hilt, a couple hand-holds indenting the metal to allow it to be wielded as a sword. He braced the back of the box against the cook of his shoulder, his other hand waiting impatiently on a brass-colored lever as he eyed the unfolding fight.
	Startled at Thea's show of violence, Young-guy blocked the blow she aimed at his head as Zane tried to struggle to his feet, with little success. 
	At last, the few sparring lessons she had talked her brothers into giving her would pay off. Though his strange weapon left a blackened gouge in the wood of her impromptu club, it remained intact.
	“Take care of the other guy!” she shouted to Byrce, not daring to take her eyes from her opponent as he went on the offensive. She dodged his swings, trying to preserve her weapon as long as possible, and giving the quivering strands of electricity their space. 
	Bearded-man, who remained a fair distance back, eagerly pulled the lever on the box of his barreled sword, making a gentle swish and clank rise from it. With an evil gleam in his eyes, he aimed the strange weapon at Byrce.