A New Path

On the outskirts of london in a quiet residental area there was a small run down looking house, it was there home to the Corna's a small young family trying to stay out of the way of the war. However the earily now slient house, unfortunately had a peice of the war came to them.

Chloe Corna, the 5 year old daughter of the parents of the house was crying under the dinning room table. The little girl was wishing with all her might was she had seen out side was only a nightmare. That the bodies of her parents and baby sister were not laying unreasponsive in a bloody mess through out the house. Her leg hurt terribly due to a bite on her leg she got from the same attack. An attack by a big black monster. She also felt sick, and cold. It was safe to say the little brown haired little girl never felt more miserable, scared and lost.

Chloe then crawled out from the table and over to her father who was laying by the stairs, perhaps she could wake him up enough for him to tell her what to do. She limped over to him and trid to give him a shake, only to feel cold skin under her hands.. This startled her away, and she fell backwards, feeling her self feeling even more sick and confused.

She rested her head on her knee crying silent, hoping and praying something showed up..

Viktor apparated to the rural London countryside. With any luck Rory was hot on his heels, but he wasn't about to look back to check. His mind was too focused on the news he'd heard from his sister: wolf trouble in the area. With any luck it wasn't a part of his and Rory's pack. As the rebellion was accumulating, it would be difficult to tell. He met a man with curly brown hair some distance between the two neighboring houses.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner, Dorian," Viktor murmured gravely, marching towards the Corna household.

"I-I-I didn't know what to do... There weren't that many but still: even one of you lot's a handful, no offense. Thought they were your pack... Didn't dare cast first and ask later," the wizard replied. He and his family were on good terms with the pack Viktor belonged to. Viktor crouched to look at some tracks left on the ground as Dorian kept walking; he backtracked to Viktor's side.

Viktor stood up and looked Dorian straight in the eye. "I appreciate your discretion, friend. You should go back inside; look after your family."

"R-right," the wizard nodded. "But what of the Corna's?"

Viktor lowered his gray eyes to the ground momentarily, then turned away to walk toward the house. Dorian seemed to turn as pale as a ghost before hurrying back indoors.

An eerie chill overwhelmed Viktor's spine as he approached the Corna house. It would have seemed like your typical country home... if it weren't for the tracks across the lawn and the nearly-shredded disrepair of the front door.

"Do you want to take the perimeter, or the interior?" he murmured to Rory, sensing her presence.

Rory had been detained for all of sixty seconds back at Viktor's home, where she'd briefly discussed preparations to take in and treat survivors with his sister Cara. True to form, she'd managed to Apparate soundlessly not ten feet behind Viktor, an impressive trick but one that tended to creep people out sometimes. The bond between them was strong, and with good reason! Though she couldn't have cared less what anyone thought about their unconventional relationship. Having arrived in time to get the gist of the situation, she placed her hand on Viktor's shoulder as she stepped forward.

"I'll take the interior," she replied, nodding curtly towards Dorian in greeting. "Any survivors are likely to be within, and Cara is anxious to have them in her care as soon as possible. Besides, if there are any stragglers in the woods, you're our best defense." It was true; although Rory was the official leader of the pack, it was Viktor's silver tongue that earned them the most recruits. She found it much easier to be approachable in crisis situations where her steady nerves and strong stomach were often a saving grace. Given the horrors that were sure to lay within, and the low likelihood of any survivors, her lack of a pleasing bedside manner probably would be irrelevant.

"Thank you so much for informing us, Dorian," she only just remembered to add. Cara had been attempting to instilled some manners into Rory, with mixed results. The problem was that she wasn't aware how abrupt she was -- the habit of playing things close to the vest was a difficult one to break even months after moving off the streets into a proper home.

She couldn't quite master the way that Viktor seemed to be able to effortlessly turn on the charm at will. Years of rebellion and an unsupervised adolescence had made ragged all the smooth phrases and kind smiles of her early childhood. It was an ongoing effort, but his patience was virtually endless when it came to Rory, and his instinct about how she would react to things tended to be as spot on as her ability to Apparate near to him.

"We should do this as quickly as we can...if there is anyone out there, they'll be completely desperate for help by now. I'd hate to lose anyone if we can help it. Be careful," she added, in a seemingly pointless display of concern, considering Viktor was a werewolf much older and experienced than herself. She knew he'd understand exactly what she'd really meant, though she wasn't comfortable enough to say any more in front of Dorian.

Rory's hand on his shoulder was a sensation of immediate reassurance. Their pack couldn't have done this... Viktor refused to believe such a thing. His nod of a reply was of relieved concern. Although Rory likely had potential recruits in mind, Viktor was far more worried about Rory's safety. He was well aware that she had a strong stomach, and a knack for dealing with chaos. Viktor, on the other hand, was best at negotiation amidst serenity. Their combined skills complemented each other almost seamlessly.

He listened to Rory's plan and related concerns. She seemed to be adapting into her role as the alpha female rather nicely. Viktor also picked up on something else she may have meant to say, and knowing that that little piece was specifically for him he nodded. "I shall," he whispered, leaning forward to place a kiss on Rory's forehead once Dorian had returned to his home. "You know the spell, if you need help." After briefly combing his fingers through a few locks of Rory's hair, Viktor was off on the search...

One thing Viktor had noticed right away in his youth was that it was quickest running as a werewolf than it was to run as a human. Upon reaching the woods he spotted two distinct sets of tracks: approaching, and retreating. If anyone had decided to take rest here after feasting on human flesh, they would most certainly be here. "Is anyone out there?!" Viktor called, on high-alert for any and all movement. Unfortunately all he earned for his trouble was a flock of birds startled from their sleep.

Wondering if perhaps a more wolfish greeting was needed, Viktor sized up the size of the woods. It was vast, but hopefully the message would echo throughout. A howled message was also rougher upon the human voice than it was upon a wolfish set of vocal chords. However, it was worth a try: sometimes a howl conveyed more than words could. Viktor sighed, then inhaled hugely to accumulate the amount of air needed for a proper howl. It wasn't quite as congruent with that of the one belted out in his wolf form, but it was close.

The slightly metallic, tangy smell of blood run cold was the first to meet Rory as she stepped into the house. She sighed in both sympathy and relief; the bleak emptiness of the house told her there had been no survivors, but the second smell to greet her was distinctly werewolf, and distinctly alien to her. There was no telling who had done this, but it hadn't been anyone she'd ever met, and therefore it couldn't have been anyone in their pack. Still, she pulled out her wand and continued to treat the scene as she would any other.

"Homenum revelio," she murmured, sidestepping a fallen chair as she walked deeper into the darkened home. For a few moments the spell told her nothing she hadn't already assumed, but then suddenly, like a flame blossoming in the dark, Rory felt it. A pulse, faint but steady.

"Someone's alive," she said in surprise, stopping dead in her tracks. "Viktor!" The cry was instinctive, if stupid; even he couldn't hear her from how far away they were. A few seconds later, his howl told her that she'd been exactly right, coming from as far away as it was. There was no one in the woods -- good. She was no good with strangers, and she needed him.

After a few tries, she managed to send a wispy Patronus forth -- she was still getting the hang of the spell -- and then light the tip of her wand. There'd been no need for her to do so before, as she could see just fine in the dark, but whoever it was that was huddled in the destroyed remains of the house would need light to see by.

"Hello?" she called out hesitantly, suddenly self-conscious of her accent; yet another reason she tended to be quiet amongst strangers. "Can you hear me? Walk towards the light, if you can. We're here to help."

When Chloe heard another enter the house her heart started to beat rapidly and she crawled as quickly as she could back under her Dinning room table where she would be hidden by her mothers half torn table cloth. She held her head close to her knee and almost held her breath as the voice neared her.

However when the sound of howl reached her ears she could not help but whimper and let out a yelp in fright and she started to tremble, something about the howl triggered something in her. She didn't understand what it was right then but it was something. And for the moment it scared her to death..

The kind words of the woman in the house fell on petrified ears, for the little girl it didn't matter. Her wide eyes never left the feet of the moving figure outside the table, she wondered if she could run, the pain her leg had faded for the moment so she waited to see if a chance to run came.

Silence... no birds, no voices, no return howling. Nothing. 'Damn,' Viktor swore: it would have been to their benefit if at least someone had strayed behind. Whoever they were, they were long gone by now. They could've used some answers about this randomized attack. His and Rory's rebellion against the system was not exactly a secret. Without a doubt, the potential for being blamed for this and subsequent negative light cast upon the pack would be an issue.

Thoughts of the pack's reputation came to a screeching halt as Rory's wispy lioness patronus bound toward him. Viktor immediately crouched, as if to speak with it on its level. Gray-blue eyes widened at the news of a survivor. "I'll be right there," he told the patronus, bounding off as fast as his human legs would carry him and leaving the patronus to fade away in his dust.

* * *

Viktor stood outside the house, taking a few moments to catch his breath. A survivor... the werewolf was torn between being happy that at least one person hadn't been killed, yet pitying the poor soul within. Although he would be pleased to have a new recruit, Viktor did not approve of the unwilling turning of a human into a werewolf and hoped the best for their survivor. With a sigh, Viktor made his way in.

"Rory...?" he called cautiously. The overwhelming scent of spilled blood assaulted his nose. Viktor also caught the distinct scent of unidentified wolf, as well as the sweet scent of Rory herself. Viktor almost thought he also picked up the scent of young Alexander Nighthook, but... that didn't seem right at all. Imagining things, no doubt, he tried to reassure himself. He was curious about what lay in the opposite direction that Rory had gone. How many survivors were there? Had she found them yet? Were there straggler wolves in here?

Instinct and desire both fueled him to follow his nose to where Rory was, despite his curiosity.

In a way, Rory was happy for the extra light, despite the absolute misery it illuminated. Whoever had attacked the Corna family had done so with a savagery even she had never seen, and she'd been witness to many a brutal fight between werewolves. This much damage on a small family seemed personal, or somehow otherwise unnatural. It just all screamed "wrong," and Rory was just thinking that very thought when her boot bumped into something soft and sticky.

Without looking, she knew it was a body, but even so she wasn't prepared for what her wand revealed; the shredded remains of what looked to be a very little girl, mingled amongst what Rory thought was her mother. Strong stomach or not, the sight was repulsive, and she turned away from it only to be immediately haunted by their wide open, accusing eyes. Conjuring a white sheet, she laid it over them, knowing Viktor would find her by her scent and pass through. The image would be seared into her mind until the day she died, she was sure; no need to scar them both for life.

She made her way quickly into the next room, calling out softly and trying not to pay too much attention to her surroundings. Such a method was not likely to be the speediest, but it was quite difficult to look at; the further into the house she got, the worse it was, until she got to the dining room. The furniture was certainly not any better off for the visiting werewolves, but it was almost unnervingly free of the blood and bits of gore that decorated the rest of the house. Something strange had certainly happened here; this was no ordinary attack, Rory was now completely positive. They needed to find whoever remained, and fast.

The continued lack of response to her words could mean one of three things: either whoever remained in the house was unconscious or injured in such a way that prevented responding, Rory was still too far for them to hear her, or they were hiding from her. Given the result the spell had given her, she thought they should be somewhere nearby by now, and so she performed a second to help speed up the process.

"Point me," she said, laying her wand down on the floorboards. For a moment she thought it hadn't worked, as the wand didn't so much as twitch, until she realised that it was pointing to the dining room table. What table cloth remained was certainly enough to hide a person behind. She was slowly leaning forward to pull it back when she heard Viktor's footsteps approaching, and without even considering the options before her, she raised herself to her feet and turned towards him.

"I've looked all over and I can't find them anywhere," she told him, an edge of frustration and desperation creeping into her voice. If they were injured, precious seconds could be ticking away. "This house isn't very large; I can't imagine where else they could be. There's an upstairs but the spell says they're on the first floor."

Chloe could swear she heard her heart pounding in her ears, they were looking for her, and they were close.. yet she was trapped.. she wished she could hide in her room there were so many small dark place she could hide in if she could get here.. place's only she could fit through.

She dared to peak a slightlest bit through a tear in the table cloth, the womans back was turned and the man wouldn't know where she was...

She looked down at her injured leg for a moment, wished she hadn't, it looked bad, swallen an infected. It didn't hurt terribly anymore, yet she didn't feel all that good though..

She took a deep breath and looked out one more time before manuvering to the direction of her bedroom.

She bit her lips and counted to 3 like she getting ready for a race, then she made a break for it and ran to her room down the hall. She however tripped upon reaching her room and let out a cry as pain once again shot up her leg.

At the frustrated and desperate tone from Rory, Viktor placed his hands on her shoulders in an effort to calm. He didn't say anything at first: she surely had deduced things he could point out and the werewolf didn't want to worry her further. "We'll find them. Don't worry," he offered. It was about the best he could manage. "I'll search with you. There are none left in the perimeter."

Viktor glanced down at Rory's wand. He had heard her murmur a spell to be guided to the person or persons they were searching for. There was for all intents and purposes no one that they could see. It was absolutely certain the survivor wasn't outside for Viktor had checked it. What had gone wrong with the spell? He stooped to pick up Rory's wand for her, and just out of curiosity started to lift the lopsided, torn table cloth. Were they under the table?

A shout tore itself through Viktor's lips as a small figure darted out from underneath the table. The unexpected flight of their survivor caused the werewolf to jump and fall on his rear amidst the bloody mess of the place. He was up in an instant, taking Rory by the hand and chasing after the form that had fled the room.

Viktor stopped in his tracks several feet away when the person they were chasing tumbled. It wasn't the fear of accidentally trampling the person that made him stop, but rather that it was a child. "Merlin..." the werewolf murmured, taking swift notice of the girl's disheveled appearance and the bloody wound on her leg. Had she been bitten? Viktor prayed not. However, at this point it was a vain hope.

"It's okay. We're here to help you," he told the child, taking a few steps toward the girl before crouching down to her level. Viktor hoped that doing so would make him appear less intimidating.

Only after Viktor had sprung to his feet and grabbed her hand did Rory release the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding as he lifted the cloth. From the moment their as-yet-unidentified survivor gave chase, nothing but pure instinct guided her through the darkened house, harmlessly sailing past furniture and debris strewn across their way, missing them by milimetres. The "chase," as it was, ended as swiftly as it had begun, and with just as sharp a shock; a child sat hunched at their feet, bleeding and making pained noises, quite clearly the survivor they had been looking for.

Rory turned and looked up at Viktor with large, surprised eyes as she joined him in kneeling beside the little girl. She couldn't help but think that such a young girl would probably find Viktor to be a bit intimidating at first, and so she made her best effort at a comforting, friendly manner.

"Hello, there. I'm Rory. This is my mate -- I mean, my husband, Viktor. Are you hurt? I can heal that for you, if you'd like."

Chloe looked at the two adults was wide eyes and backed up slowly from them though was careful to not put any weight on her now painfully wounded leg. She knew the firendly words they were saying, however the shock, pain and fear made it difficult for her to understand them.

She wimpered and grabbed her leg at the though of another touching it, for fear on more pain from it. She was always a dainty little girl, was always careful not to hurt herself, but as careful as she was she always managed to hurt herself by accident and everytime to fix it it hurt a lot.

She shook her head at them her brown eyes still wide and staring at them as she wedged herself in between the end of her bed and her dresser. The other half of her Dresser had large claw marks and scratches on the wood, could had only been made by a full grown werewolf. The whole area past the dresser and near the closet was a mess, much like the rest of the house, but a big fight had been placed her little room, not just with her and the wolf, but a fight between two wolves was evident on the carpet and walls. A fight between wolves over who won the pray perhaps...

She bit her lip blinking back tears she just wanted all this to go away, have her parents talking to her instead of strangers.

"I.. I want m... Mum aaa and d... Dad" she stammered quietly through her tears. She didn't feel well and she couldn't quite understand what happened anymore.

Viktor could feel both sets of wide, feminine eyes gaze at him. He closed his own for a moment, pained at the sight before him. The girl was so young, and now without a family or a pack to call her own. His hand immediately sought out Rory's shoulder in an affectionate gesture when she called him her husband. "She is one of the best-skilled people I know when it comes to healing," Viktor offered, hoping the girl would accept help.

When Chloe instead tried further still to get away from them, Viktor noticed the state of the girl's bedroom. The deep gashes in the wood, the state of a nearby closet, a bit of blood dried on the floor where it pooled, and in general the state of utter disarray. Such a tiny little girl couldn’t have caused all of this destruction. Although Viktor held great passion for those of the wolf-y kind, it terrified him to think what the child must have witnessed here the night before. Had whoever attacked them fought over the child? Unfortunately now was not the time to deliberate such things.

A quiet sigh left Viktor at the little girl’s demand. He glanced at Rory, wondering how on earth to explain death to such a small child. She was probably in the same situation as he was. Neither of them had children yet to call their own, having only recently been hand-fasted. Despite his role as the charismatic recruiter of the pack Viktor could tell the task ahead was not going to be easy. His eyes once again sought the girl. “I think we should see to your leg first, before the wound gets any worse. We are here to help you, not hurt you. I promise,” Viktor murmured, hoping to evade for now the topic of the child’s parents.