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All sense of the passage of time had long since bled away into the unvarying darkness that held the stranger fast within his cell. How long had he been locked in here? Hours? Days? He didn't know. Day was indistinguishable from night in this dank dungeon and the constant gloom had begun playing strange games with his mind. At times he fell in to an uneasy sleep laced with terrifying and disturbing dreams that never completely faded away when he jerked back to wakefulness. Those horrible images hovered in the impenetrable gloom long after he had opened his eyes, hiding in the corners of his cell, waiting for him to close his eyes again so they could continue tormenting his mind. A shiver ran down the stranger's spine as thoughts as dark as the cell that he had been imprisoned in rolled over and over in his head. He turned pale eyes up into the darkness and stared uneasily into the black, wondering about and waiting for a future that likely wouldn't be very friendly. He was as good as dead, and he knew it. He'd heard stories about what the Others did to some of the humans that they captured. There was a thump as his head lolled into the stone wall behind him. His jaw worked convulsively as despair and fear threatened to overwhelm him. He tried desperately to put the painful fate that he knew waited just around the corner for him out of his mind and think of other things. It was a task far easier said than done. His thoughts kept wandering ahead spurred on by his vivid imagination and the rank cell that he had been imprisoned in.

He could almost smell the despair that this place held within it. It seemed to radiate from the stone walls, lingering after images of the thoughts of a thousand other hopeless prisoners. The stranger wondered if any of them had made it out of this place alive. He shook his head slowly and tried to cover his ears. The echoes of a million tortured screams seemed to hang in the darkness, trapped forever in this place by the thick stone walls. Would he scream out in agony as they tortured him? Would he beg for mercy as they smashed his fingers one by one? What sounds would he make as clawed fingers plucked his eyes from their sockets?

With great effort he turned his thoughts away from his dark future and turned them instead towards the past. His brow furrowed as he tried to pull the few pieces of the puzzle that he had in his grasp into a picture he could understand. The stranger stared for long periods into the surrounding darkness, fighting with the foggy and indistinct thoughts that slowly tumbled through his head. He tried desperately to recall what had happened to him and why he had been imprisoned in this dark and foul cell but there wasn't that much there to remember.

Bits and pieces of memory slowly crawled back to him, smashed and disconnected fragments of something that was once whole. The cool and dank air bit into his shoulders and sent a momentary shudder through his body. Frantic voices rang out in his mind's eye and the stranger jerked suddenly. He remembered footprints in slushy snow and the bite of cold autumn air through his threadbare clothes. Running, he had been running from something. He flinched again and his eyes suddenly opened wide. There had been the blast of a musket from near at hand. He remembered the violent impact that had spun him around as the musket ball ripped into him, smashing down through his collarbone and ripping out through his shoulder blade. Blood darkened the snow and had covered his hand as he groped at his wound. Cold, he'd felt so cold as he lay there in the snow, watching his life's blood leach into the slush in a slowly widening stain of red. Someone had stood over him as he lay there, someone not human, one of the Others. He couldn't recall the face but he did recall a white face and blue eyes. His brow furrowed as something tickled his memory. It was those eyes, he remembered those eyes somehow and from somewhere. The strangers brow wrinkled there was something there, an understanding that lingered just on the edge of memory...

All of the air suddenly left the stranger's lungs in a stunned exhale and he sagged like a deflated balloon against the cold stone wall. A steely flash of memory had lit up his mind and he suddenly understood. Those terrified eyes had been locked on his. In them he had seen the helpless fear of death, a death that was soon to have been delivered by his own hands. It was a shock to the stranger to realize that he'd had a sword at the throat of this Other. The human shook his head and grimaced. He'd been so scared of getting caught that he'd been so ready to strike the life from that guard. It would have been so easy, one quick stroke of cold steel and the helpless guard's throat would have been opened and his lifeblood would have gushed forth to stain the snow. Something had stayed his hand though and he wondered what it was. He'd stood there for a moment with that guard pinned up against the wall, sword at his throat, and in that strange, almost infinite moment that passed between them he even remembered the big flakes of wet snow that drifted down all around them as their eyes were locked together. The guard hadn't even struggled against him, he had just whimpered fearfully as blood dripped from behind his ear to splatter upon the armour at his shoulder...

The stranger's face paled as realization struck him. No, not he, she! That's why he had dropped the sword and backed away. The guard had been a young and very terrified female canine. When he'd realized that, he'd come to his senses and dropped the sword. The human grimaced and leaned back with a sigh. He hoped he hadn't ended up hurting her. The shot that smashed his shoulder had come soon after he had let her go. He shook his head sadly. He had never wanted to hurt anybody, he had just wanted to escape and be left alone. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, a pained look coming to his face as the flood of memory continued. He had hurt that guard. He'd thrown a marble bookend at her from a second story window and had knocked her senseless for a moment. He shook his head sadly. Good thing she'd been wearing a helmet.

For a long moment the stranger's mind was as empty as the darkness around him. Nothing moved, no sound was heard, and no neurons fired as empty eyes stared from an equally empty face. More memories returned and his entire body twitched convulsively under the weight of them.

Held fast against something flat and hard, he remembered struggling futilely against his bonds, pain shooting fire through his left shoulder. Skin ripped and tore against rough wood as he had thrashed about in a desperate attempt to escape. Shattered bones had shifted sickeningly in his shoulder and blood had welled up from his wound, trickling slowly across sweat slickened skin. His cries had awoken something beyond his cell and the door had been thrown open, ancient hinges squealing and groaning like a tortured animal the gloom. The light from beyond the low door wasn't bright but after the long hours he had spent locked in the near total darkness of his cell it was almost blinding. The stranger had squinted hard into the glare, his fear rising as two figures moved into the opening and blocked the feeble light that poured in from beyond the door. One shadow, short and slender, detached itself from the doorway and moved towards him. The other figure loomed large and menacing in the background, the outline of something with sharp edges barely visible against the light as it was held at the ready.

The approaching figure carried a bag in one hand and came forward cautiously. He could see it more clearly now that his eyes had adjusted to the unfamiliar light. Tall triangular ears and a sharp and narrow muzzle. Reddish orange fur covered its head and there was a patch of white that began on the underside of its muzzle and ran down its throat. A fox-person, the stranger realized through the pain and fear that flooded his mind. The bag it carried in one hand was smooth black leather and the creature wore a plain brown coat that covered most of its torso and fell to just below its knees.

A doctor? The words floated up like a bubbles from the dark depths of thought and the stranger's fear receded slightly. Someone who might be able to help him. He tensed against his bonds and grimaced as the pain cut through his like a white hot knife. He licked dry, cracked lips and his eyes flickered fearfully to the stout figure that stood motionless in the doorway of the cell and then back to the fox person.

"Help me." The stranger croaked through a throat that felt as dry as dust.

The fox-person cocked its head to the side and regarded him quietly for a moment. It sighed and shook its head and carefully placed the bag on the floor beside the stranger. A flap was unbuttoned and a slender, black furred hand rummaged around in the dark interior of the bag for a moment. The fox-person spoke to him in a calm voice as glass and metal clinked quietly into the gloom. The stranger didn't understand a word of what the fox-person had said but the tone of its voice was comforting and reassuring. Something glinted brightly in the feeble light that crept in through the open door. There had been a sting on the inside of the stranger's elbow and then a curious warmth spread up through his arm and into his shoulder, pushing the pain away into places where he could not follow. The warmth soon invaded his mind and he felt himself begin to drift away as the fox-person stood up. The creature spoke to him again, this time sadness underlying its calm tones. The figure retreated and the door clanged shut, the darkness returning easily to smother the cell. Whispered voices from beyond the door, curiously distorted by the warmth that tugged as his consciousness were the last thing the stranger remembered before the world went away for a while.

When he had regained consciousness, he found that no longer was he strapped down to a plank. Instead, he found that he was hunched in a corner, the stone wall cold against his bare back and shoulder. His arms and legs were free to move but heavy iron manacles had been affixed to his ankles and his one good wrist. Heavy, black chains stretched from the manacles to a bracket in the stone wall a short distance from him. They weren't very long, maybe one and a half times his body length but it was far better than being strapped to a plank. His ankles were rubbed raw from the straps that had previously held him down and he slowly reached down to check the damage. The manacles clamped around his ankles threatened to aggravate the wounds there but someone had at least made an effort to patch him up. His fingers came away coated with some sort of sticky substance. He raised his fingers to his nose and sniffed, wrinkling his nose in disgust as the odour hit him. Whatever it was it smelled medicinal, probably some sort of salve or something like that. He took that as a good sign. At least his captors weren't trying to kill him outright, not yet anyways.

Someone had wrapped his shoulder wound with fresh bandages as well and more of that awful smelling salve. His left arm had been placed in a sling and the pain wasn't as bad as it had been before. He was able to move a little bit without screaming. The way things were going that was a definite improvement.

It was still incredibly dark in his cell and with little else to do he began exploring the range of his restraints. He stood up slowly, his legs complaining as he straightened them out. He was almost all the way to his feet when his head slammed into the ceiling. Stars blasted through the darkness and he collapsed with a thud. A dismal groan hung briefly in the gloom before being absorbed by the stone walls. The stranger held his bruised head in his hand as he waited for the pain to subside. His shoulder started aching again, further adding to his problems.

Several minutes of motionless silence passed before the stranger decided to try exploring again. Metal rattled and clinked over stone as he inched his way around in the gloom. The stone floor was cold under his bare hand and knees as he crept along the wall. He was almost at the limit of his chains when his questing fingertips found a corner. Unbelievably foul odours emanated from this corner and the stranger's fingers found the edges of a slit cut into the stone floor. The cut ran underneath the wall and from the smell of things, down into the sewers. His fingers came into contact with something unspeakably slimy and the stranger swore and slung the crud off of his fingers. He repressed a shudder of revulsion and backed away from the corner. He understood what that place was for.

As he backed away his hand found the ring that his chains were fastened to. It was as thick around as his index finger and buried at least halfway into the stone wall. He tugged experimentally at the cold ring and not surprisingly it held fast. His fingers traced over the links that bound his chains to the ring. The hefty padlock that his clammy fingers found dashed any hopes he had of getting out of his chains. He sat down and sighed in despair. He could see no way of getting out of here. He began to shiver as the cold stone stole the heat from his body. He could hardly think and the darkness surrounding him began to eat away at his mind. The small, barely visible barred opening on the door to his cell held his attention for long minutes. He had to find a way to escape this place. He longed for the light and wide open spaces and to feel the wind cool against his face. Only there he would meet the end that would soon come looking for him. To die in this black and stinking hole would be a terror. Trapped underground for eternity, his soul would not be able join that of his ancestors among the stars above. Instead it would be condemned to wander the gloomy halls and cells of this dungeon, always seeking a way out to the light and despairing in never finding it. He couldn't let that happen, not after everything he had been through.

---

The clamour of excited voices and the clatter of claws up and down the hallway beyond her door managed to arouse Annayah from her deep slumber. She lay still at first, blinking the sleep from her eyes and wondering what all of the commotion was about. She tried to get back to sleep but her body would have none of that. You're awake now it said, get your tail out of bed and go do something. She resisted for as long as she could but her body was insistent. At length she yawned and stretched, uncurling her body and doing her best to welcome the day that had decided that it couldn't just leave her be. She didn't know what time it was but felt like late morning. She yawned again and forced herself into a sitting position. The doctor's prescription had worked like a charm. She felt refreshed, almost back to normal and she didn't even have a headache. She scratched an ear for a moment and then smiled and shook herself, straightening some of the sleep out of her thick coat. She reached for her brush and began to methodically tend to her pelt. Winter was nearly here and her coat had begun to thicken in response to the turning of the seasons. Another few weeks and she'd be in her full winter pelt and more than ready for anything these mild southern winters could throw at her. Humming a tune under her breath, Annayah took special care with her brush, smoothing out the spots that had been ruffled and knotted as she slept. One of her ears swivelled towards the door as she heard running footsteps and more excited voices go down the hallway. She frowned and paused in her grooming for a moment. There was more activity going on out there than usual this morning for some reason. She wondered what exactly was going on. She thought hard for a moment wondering if there was something going on that she had forgotten about. Nothing came to mind so she shrugged and continued with her grooming.

When Annayah left her quarters, the hallways were strangely deserted after the earlier flurries of activity. She kept an ear pricked for any hints as to what all of the excitement was about but for now everything was silent. She sniffed intently a few times but didn't scent anything out of the ordinary. What she did smell though, was the enticing odour of greasy cooking wafting towards her from the mess hall. Her mouth began to water almost immediately. She could smell bacon, frying eggs, butter, and several other delicious aromas. She closed her eyes, breathed in deeply and let her nose guide her to breakfast.

Strangely, the mess hall was nearly deserted when she got there. What should have been a busy, bustling room full of people was empty except for two raccoons that sat in a corner and talked in low voices. When Annayah entered the room their conversation stopped abruptly and both turned their heads to eye her intently. Annayah wasn't familiar with either of them and she found their gaze unnerving for some reason that she couldn't pin down. She shook that feeling away and ignored the raccoons. She had better things to do that worry about the stares from a couple of people that she didn't know. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation of being fed and she went in search of something to heap food upon.

Metal tray in paw, Annayah approached the opening to the kitchen. She paused along the way to get some tea from a large carafe that sat perched precariously on the edge of a small table. Bowls were stacked haphazardly beside the carafe and Annayah eyed the pile suspiciously before reaching out and tentatively plucking one of the small white bowls from the top of the stack. She held her breath for a moment as the column clinked and wavered slightly before settling into an uneasy stillness. Annayah filled the bowl with some hot tea and quickly moved away from the table, half expecting to hear the crash and tinkle of broken earthenware behind her as that pile of bowls slid off the table and onto the tiled floor. She briefed a sigh of relief when nothing happened.

Moving slowly so as to not spill any of her tea, Annayah set her tray down on the long bench in front of the opening to the kitchen. Delicious aromas drifted out from the narrow opening and she inhaled deeply, tasting the swarm of olfactory goodness with her sensitive nose. She couldn't remember the last time the food served in this placed had smelled so good. Usually it was all she could do to keep her nose from wrinkling in disgust as she passed by the doors to this place. Craning her head slightly, she didn't see the cook anywhere. A tray absolutely heaped with bacon sat warming on the side of the grill, the salty, greasy aroma taunting Annayah's hunger. Impatiently, she tapped a claw on the bench and craned her head further, searching for the absent cook. If he didn't show up soon she was going to crawl through the opening and start helping herself. She was just about to call out when the cook rounded a corner and came into sight. He paused briefly when he saw her and something flickered in his eyes. Annayah frowned slightly at his reaction. The cook, a short and portly black bear, recovered quickly and gave her a brief smile as he adjusted the ridiculous white hat that sat perched between his round ears. He rubbed a giant paw against his grease stained apron and pulled a plate from a pile that sat on a bench behind him.

"G'morning to ye constable." Mumbled the cook as he used a set of tongs to pluck a more generous than normal amount of bacon from the tray. "Ye must be feeling a bit better. I'd not expected to see you this early."

"Yeah, I'm feeling pretty good. Hungry though."

The cook smiled at hearing that and plucked a couple extra pieces of bacon and placed them on the plate. "'Tis scrambled eggs and bacon this morning as your nose has likely told ye." The bear produced a large spoon and began to scoop eggs from a large pan onto Annayah's plate. "There's plenty 'ere too. There's been a wee bit of excitement early this morning and some o' the other folks 'ave skipped breakfast." He said as he proceeded to stack a huge amount of eggs on the plate. Annayah's eyes widened at the sheer volume of food the cook was managing to stack on one plate. She licked her lips in anticipation as the bear slid the plate to her.

"What happened?" Annayah asked, her curiosity piqued by the cook's statement.

"I don't rightly know," he scratched his chin with a claw as Annayah carefully placed the plate on her tray. "but 'tis something that's rattled the nerves of those that have passed through 'ere this morning." He shrugged and Annayah decided not to pursue the matter any further. There was eating to be done. She thanked the cook for his generosity and he nodded and marked her name down in the ledger, not even charging her for the extra food he had given her. The cook was a decent fellow and she had nothing against him. It was his food that she had problems with at times.

As Annayah gathered up her tray she suddenly realized that it was too quiet behind her. Sure enough she glanced over her shoulder just in time to see the two raccoons suddenly avert their gazes and go back to their meals. Annayah's ears went back a bit and she gave them both a dark look. What was it with some people anyways? Sure, she was the only Wolven in these parts and a pure white one to boot. She knew that she stood out like a sore thumb wherever she went but didn't people realize that it wasn't nice to stare? She shook her head and grabbed a fork and a knife from separate trays full of gleaming cutlery. She'd learned to ignore most of the stares and the whispers behind her back but there were times when such things still cut deep. She sighed and stalked through the deserted maze of tables, glaring at the pair of raccoons as she picked out her seat. She chose a table just far enough away from the pair to make them feel comfortable, but close enough to make them wonder. Let's see how they like that Annayah thought darkly as she set her breakfast down somewhat harder than she had to. Tea sloshed out of the bowl and puddled in the bottom of the tray. Annayah let out an exasperated sigh and sat down in the chair with a thump. The two raccoons a short distance away chewed their meals in silence. Annayah could sense their uneasiness and a smirk came to her face as she stabbed a piece of bacon with her fork. She knew she shouldn't be taking any satisfaction in another's discomfort but she had had enough. Let them experience what things were like from her point of view for once.

The first bite of bacon was an explosion of flavour on her tongue. She closed her eyes and a look of pure bliss came to her face. While some of the food served in this place barely fit the description of edible, the cook's bacon was always top notch. She suspected that it had something to do with the multiple layers of grease that encrusted the battered old grill in the kitchen. There was a whole rainbow of flavours there just waiting to be captured in the fat of the next batch. She popped another strip of bacon into her mouth and swallowed nearly without chewing. She lapped at the bowl of tea briefly and then sat back for a moment, letting the sweet tang of the tea spread over her tongue. She adjusted the grip on her fork and was about to delve deeply into the mountain of scrambled eggs when something made her look up.

Kalya had just hurriedly entered the mess hall. The coyote stood by the door, looking around hurriedly before her eyes fell on Annayah. The white wolf frowned at the look in her friend's eyes. There was something wrong. Not only should they coyote have been on duty right now, the posture of her entire body told the wolf that something was very wrong. The coyote's ears flicked up and down indecisively and her tail was held low, twitching nervously in the vicinity of her knees. As soon as she spotted Annayah, the coyote made a beeline for her, rushing through the maze of empty tables. She came to a sliding stop in front of Annayah, her muzzle opening and closing convulsively. The wolf was surprised when she saw tears in her friend's eyes. She swallowed convulsively, her meal suddenly forgotten.

"Kalya, what's wrong?" She asked. The answer was blurted out almost before she'd finished asking the question.

"Brelton's dead!" With that, the coyote collapsed into a chair with a sob.

Annayah was stunned to silence. She'd seen a fair bit of Brelton over the last few months. She didn't care much for him and his arrogant attitude even though he had probably saved her life when the human had attacked her. Annayah wasn't sure what might have happened had he not fired his musket when he did. She tolerated him for the most part because Kalya had seemed quite taken with him and she knew that they had been spending quite a bit of time together recently. There were even rumours that the two of them would be mated in the spring. Her shoulders sagged and she grimaced, setting her fork down reluctantly next to her still full plate. Kalya was miserable across from her, eyes downcast, ears back, her body wracked with grief as she tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to overcome her. The two raccoons a few tables away watched interestedly, no doubt gathering material to foster more gossip. Annayah fleered her lips away from her sharp teeth and glared at them. The raccoons quickly averted their eyes and went back to eating their meals in a methodical manner. Annayah listened intently. If one of them even made so much as a peep about Kalya she was going to make them both regret that they had been born. A brief thought came into her mind as she glared at the raccoons. When had she become so bold? She never used to do anything like this. Usually she avoided any sort of conflict. Her time in the Guard must have toughened her up somewhat.

The white wolf looked down at her full plate and sighed. She reluctantly pushed back her chair and stood up. Breakfast was going to have to wait.

"Come on Kalya, let's go." Annayah actually had to help the coyote up out of her chair. She was momentarily surprised when her friend wrapped her arms around her and sobbed into her chest. The wolf felt a little awkward standing there while Kalya cried out her sorrows into her thick fur. She didn't know quite white to do. She could feel the raccoon's eyes on her again but this time she ignored them. She gently pried herself loose from the coyote's grip.

"Kalya, this is not the place for such things." She said quietly.

"I... I know." Kalya said in an unsteady voice as she brushed the tears from the corners of her eyes. Annayah could see that she was on the verge of breaking down again.

"Let's go" she murmured "I'll walk you back to your quarters."

Kalya nodded weakly and let herself be led by the big white wolf. Annayah paused only briefly to pick her still full plate from the table and hand it to the cook with instructions to keep it warm for her. The portly bear nodded with a knowing look in his eyes. Annayah glared at the raccoons one last time as she and Kalya left the mess hall. She would keep her ears perked for anything that those two would say later. If she didn't like what she heard, she would have words with them herself and she doubted they'd much like what she would say.

Fortunately the hallways were deserted as Annayah led her distraught friend to her quarters. The coyote broke down again and leaned heavily against Annayah. The wolf remained silent, wondering just what exactly she should say and do. This kind of situation wasn't exactly something she knew how to deal with. Everything about it made her slightly uncomfortable. It was her mother who was always the expert at dealing with other's troubles. Annayah felt a brief twinge of homesickness but pushed it away. Now was not the time for dealing with her own problems.

They arrived in front of the door to Kalya's quarters and paused for a moment there. The teary eyed coyote groped around in a pocket of her tunic for a key. Annayah noticed with surprise that her friend's paws were shaking so badly that she could hardly get the key in the lock. It took Annayah's help for her to be able to unlock the door.

Once the two canines were in, Annayah guided her friend to the bunk and eased her down on it. She pulled up the single chair that graced the small room and sat down upon it, her worried eyes locked on Kalya. Now what should she do? She didn't know how to deal with something like this. At a loss, she decided to remain quiet and waited for Kalya to compose herself.

After a moment, the coyote sniffled and raised her eyes to smile weakly at the wolf. She looked terrible, and Annayah guessed she had been up most of the night crying.

"Thanks for your help Annayah. I've just been so lost, I don't know what to do anymore. I just can't believe he's gone..." Kalya choked back a sob as her words trailed off.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Annayah asked quietly. "You don't have to if it's too painful for you."

"No. It's okay. I think I need to talk about it."

Annayah nodded and stayed silent, letting her friend tell her story at her own pace.

"It was Sergeant Juneau that first gave me the bad news. I could see it in her eyes that something was terribly wrong when she first came up to me. She told me that there had been an incident." She shook her head sadly as she fought with the painfully fresh memories. "I was just about to start my shift and go out on patrol when Juneau caught up with me. She pulled me aside into a quiet room and made me sit down. She said that she didn't know how to tell me this but Brelton had been mugged during the night. I was worried at first and asked if he was okay. I was so unprepared for what she told me next." Kalya looked up at her friend and there were fresh tears in her eyes. Annayah reached out and put a comforting hand on the coyote's shoulder. A moment or two passed before Kalya found the strength to begin talking again.

"I didn't believe her at first when she told me he had been stabbed. I asked if he was okay but Juneau just shook her head sadly." Kalya's voice began to waver as she continued. "She told me that he had been found in an alley by another patrol and she told me that they had been drawn there by the scent of blood. He was barely alive, but unconscious when they found him. They rushed him to the hospital but there was nothing they could do for him. He'd lost too much blood." Kalya began weeping openly. "Juneau led me over to the morgue so I could view the body. I remember looking at him as he lay on the cart. He just looked like he was sleeping. I thought I could just wake him up and everything would be all right but he was so cold, so lifeless when I touched his muzzle..." The coyote stopped talking and stared down at her paws in despair. Annayah felt her friend's pain and drew her into a tight embrace.

"I'm so sorry Kalya." She didn't know what else to say. There was nothing else she could say. She was almost at the point of tears herself. She'd never seen her friend so distraught. Kalya had always been such a strong one, laughing and joking and keeping her composure in situations where most others she knew would lose it.

For several minutes the two canines drew some comfort from each other and their tight embrace until Annayah reluctantly released her friend.

"I think it's best if you get some rest now Kalya. I'll go talk to the sergeant and make sure that you're off the duty roster for a few days. I'll come back and check on you again in a few hours." Kalya nodded weakly and Annayah eased her back onto her bunk. The coyote curled up into a fetal position and sniffled a few times. Annayah gently stroked her fingers over her friend's ears and traced them down to her shoulders, hoping that the physical contact would help the coyote relax and get some much needed sleep. After a few minutes it began to work and Kalya began to unwind. In a few short minutes her exhaustion caught up with her and the coyote gave in to sleep.

The white wolf sat and watched her friend for a long time after she had fallen asleep. A veritable storm of thoughts flew through her head and her instincts, honed by nearly a year on duty as a constable of the Guard were telling her that something didn't add up. She hadn't told Kalya because she hadn't wanted to add to her friend's pain but she had a suspicion that Brelton's murder was not a random event. It was too soon after the incident with the human and the Captain had been too quick to want to put that incident behind them and cover up any knowledge of what had really happened. Brelton was known as a bit of a braggart among the Guard and Annayah wondered if had been killed in order to keep him quiet. She had wondered if he would be able to keep his mouth shut over shooting the human. She shook that thought away and wondered if she was getting paranoid. Muggings were a common occurrence in the city and it wasn't exactly uncommon for a victim to meet a violent end. Brelton wouldn't have been on duty at the time of his death so it was a possibility he was the victim of a random attack.

The wolf stood up and left Kalya's quarters as quietly as possible. Once outside, she leaned up against the wall and took a deep breath. She was off duty for a few days yet but that wouldn't stop her from doing a little investigating on the side. For her own sake, and Kalya's, she would try to find out what really happened to Brelton.

Annayah took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She pushed herself away from the wall and walked steadily down the hall. It was time to put some of her Guard training to use. She would go find of Sergeant Juneau and talk her way into investigating the crime scene. She would use her exceptional sense of smell and hopefully find something that the routine investigators had missed.

The white wolf stepped out from the gloom of the guardhouse and onto uneven paving stones under an overcast sky. She scented rain on the wind and she picked up her pace, hoping to get to the crime scene before the rain washed away precious evidence. The click of her claws on rough cobblestones echoed amongst the surrounding buildings. Annayah ran with her head held high and her nose to the wind, seeking out the scents she knew would lead her to the source of Kalya's despair.