Sonya inhaled the warm air, facing Aranea.

"There's a way out, you know," she said. "You can still get exiled. Return to the Core Lands. Settle in the Wastes, whatever. No one will fault you, and I'll take the blame for denying… the urge," she finished after a pause with a thoughtful expression on her snout.

"Would you agree to be exiled?" Aranea asked.

"No." Sonya shook her head. "Otherwise, I risk endangering you."

"Then don't ask the same from me, Sonya."

"Brave. Dumb. Arrogant." She snorted. "Follow me. The place is not far." She turned around and ran, dripping droplets of blood on the ground.

Under normal circumstances, Aranea would have been responsible for removing these traces to prevent an insectoid infestation from crawling to their base. However, today it didn't seem mandatory, so she fell in line, wondering about such a blatant disregard for tried-and-tested by ages safety protocols.

Any thoughts were soon forced out of her mind by a sense of dread as they darted toward a lone hill rising on the horizon. It wasn't the result of her many concussions. Inexperienced though she was, the hair on the back of her neck stood up, and Aranea could have sworn that another being was trailing them, unseen. She thought she heard a faint sniff; maybe it was the release of dust from a pebble crushed by her foot. Nervous, she glanced left, and the presence shifted to her right, staying outside of her field of view but not hiding itself.

She looked back, clenching her fists. The drops of blood belonging to her and Sonya. Most were missing, licked clean from the jagged surface alongside dirt. A recent sandstorm had scattered pieces of shaved-off mountains and trash around the plain. Nothing should have been able to follow them in utter silence, picking up their trail while remaining invisible. Yet, as they neared the hill, a shadow framed by the brightest yellow light replaced the moonlight for a second and covered the Wolfkins. Aranea wanted to turn around, but fear gripped her, forcing the scout to look ahead. What could it be? A mutant bird observing them? Or a random creature woken up in the underground laboratory? The sensation of horror lingered, whispering traitorous thoughts: the Spirits themselves were accompanying them, judging every flaw.

At last, they reached the small clearing atop the hill, ringed by six crude stone pillars. Fierce weather had faded the detailed inscriptions that had been done with care and attention by a distant group that had once settled here. Aranea's fingers touched the circular surface of what could have been a makeshift ritual arena or an area reserved for joyous occasions through the thick layer of sand. Whatever its purpose, its occupants had long since dispersed. Aranea found herself hoping that they had settled in a cozy, safe place rather than vanished. The moon disk hovered just above the tip of one pillar, casting a spotlight on the women.

Sonya stopped in the middle of the circle, breathing hard. The bandages covering her side and arm were soaked with red.

"This is it, kiddo." She smiled, sweat visible through her fur. "This is where you go down. But I want to ask you. That blabber about your dream. Are you for real?"

Aranea stepped up to her.

"I will make us grow up. I'll eliminate idiotic traditions like killing the elderly. I'll put an end to the pits," she stated, circling Sonya, preparing for a strike. "Cubs will play with each other and attend schools, rather than fighting. Males and females will be equal, and choosing a civilian profession won't be shameful or wrong. No more killing defective or mauling. The end of pain."

"You mean you'll destroy us," Sonya growled. "Softness begets extinction."

"Are we so weak that we'll keel over because of small changes? If yes, then we are doomed regardless, and a horrible end is better than a never-ending horror!" Aranea shouted, ducking low behind Sonya, watching the relaxed body focused on recovering stamina. Exposed. Vulnerable. "But we both know this isn't so. The Ice Fang Order thrives without adherence to our tradition. Would you call them helpless or inferior? No? Then why should we persist in doing everything the hard way when we have a blatant example of another path open to us? Call me arrogant, but I'll open your eyes. All of us, myself included. We all deserve to be happy."

She charged, aiming an upward swing at Sonya's thigh. The wolf hag whirled, ramming her elbow into the scout's shoulder and sending her rolling backwards.

"If your way is so great, how come you are so weak?" Sonya mocked. "Certain paths are destined for failure. Our world is not yet ready for peace. If only I were a better parent." She sighed, hunching her shoulders. "Your way might've prevailed. You were given to me, and I coddled you, treating you gently. Even now, I fail to see hatred in your beautiful eyes. If I had pushed you harder through that trauma, you would have accepted your gift. My kindness had ruined your dreams."

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"No," said Aranea. "It rekindled the strength in me to pursue them."

Sonya opened her mouth as if to argue and then shook her head. "It's all past us, Aranea. The time for dreaming is over. Reality cometh."

The wolf hag lunged at Aranea, and the scout retreated back to the stone pillar behind. Sonya's paw rose, and the scout jumped to the left, evading a swipe that ripped a huge chunk from the pillar. She rolled on the ground, regaining her balance as the wolf hag followed, pointing the right arm at her and holding her side with the left arm. In a single bound, the larger woman closed the distance, her arm extending like a piston and accelerating. The wolf hag ever favored precise hits, the ones that tore muscles and shattered bones in a single move. The weight of her injuries robbed her of the ability to spend strength on running. She sucked in air, gasping for fresh oxygen, and the stress of the day, joined by her sheer age, had blurred her vision.

Her aim wasn't as steady as before, and Aranea dodged the spearing paw and struck upward, directing her fist at the amber eyes. Even now, with every advantage possible, she ended up being too slow. Stopping her stab, Sonya grabbed Aranea's wrist and dragged the arm off its path. Her shoulder slammed into the scout's jaw, spinning her world, while her leg swept Aranea off her feet. She exhaled from the abrupt landing, noticing Sonya's bending over with a strained expression over her rapid movements. This split-second distraction gave Aranea the window of opportunity to dodge, and the paw missed her head, going into the ground up to the wrist.

Aranea bounced off the ground, opening a cut on Sonya's stuck arm. The wolf hag tore the arm free, splintering the ground, and landed a chop on the scout's forearm, causing the bones to painfully shake and bruises to well up.

The wolf hag chased after Aranea, slashing and drawing a cut below the scout's eye. She had managed to dodge the full swing threatening to halve her cranium. In response, she elbowed Sonya in the wounded ribs, forcing her to gasp for air. Grabbing the shocked woman by the shoulders, Aranea kneed her in the solar plexus, intent on not giving her an ounce of chance to breathe. Sonya caught the knee onto her palm and headbutted Aranea, sending her sprawling. A kick followed, shaving a little skin from the scout's arm, but the agony of the elbow blow had arrested the wolf hag long enough to prevent the worst. The two clashed.

They fought in the night, claws meeting claws, fangs snapping. Both felt and earned deep, carved lacerations. Neither surrendered nor asked for mercy as a shadow blanked them, blocking the moonlight, and for the next three exchanges, they matched their skills in utter darkness. Then a circle of yellow light surrounded them, and Aranea saw fear in Sonya's eyes, mirroring her own. Death watched, gauging them based on unexplained merits. A desire to excel, to surpass and win, blazed in the scout's soul, giving both her and the opponent a fresh surge of strength. Sonya pushed her out of the circle, and Aranea clung to the pillar, listening carefully. Don't hurry. She has a limit. A rock dropped to her left, but the scout restrained her nerves, and when Sonya appeared from the right side of the pillar, the scout elbowed her in the jaw, landing a follow-up kick into her stomach, propelling her into the circle.

She reeled. Sonya, the impossible, the unreachable leader, had reeled from the impact fifty minutes into their duel.

Win it!

Their claws drew sparks, and Sonya tossed Aranea down, closing a paw on her throat while holding her right paw with her left paw. The cruel fingers closed, cracking the skin, not letting even a trickle of air into the throat. Aranea bit her lip to stay conscious and punched Sonya's ribs. Straight into the wound. Again. And once more. Where there was one, five more could join. Sonya squealed, letting go of her, and the scout brought her knees to her chest and kicked into the agonized snout, beating the last ounce of energy out of her opponent. The wolf hag fell onto her ass, tried to stand, and even kicked, but it was too slow and feeble. Aranea caught the ankle, stopping her leg and breaking it with a single punch to the knee, placing everything into it. The bones shifted under her knuckle.

Yes! I can do it!

Her paw caught Sonya by the wrist, twisting the arm into the incoming kick that snapped the limb. Aranea mounted her leader in a flash, elbowing her head, and with every strike Sonya's head slammed the rocky ground, cracking it. When her elbows began to hurt too much, Aranea clenched her fists together, hammering without rest until Sonya's nose cracked, her snout caved in, and several fangs broke. The scout stopped when she noticed that her mentor had lost consciousness and was bleeding from her ears and mouth. Her claws slipped from her fingers as a primal urge demanded that she finish it. A crescendo of voices—Mom's, Dad's, Tilden's, her pack's—filled her brain, calling for the finishing strike as the yellow light narrowed, focusing on her. Life must be given. Adrenaline peaked in her bloodstream, and the power rocked in its prison, trying to bestow the cursed gift.

This time, their lives are the coin that will ensure…

"Screw it!" Aranea shouted, slapping her palms beside Sonya's head and forcing the power to back off. Her back arched, and she roared. "I deny it; I deny the cruel traditions or that strength. I refuse to sacrifice others. My way! You hear it?! So suck it!" She faced the pillar, surveying its tip for anything. Nothing. Just the moon shining in the night. It was all just a dream, a byproduct of stress and injuries.

The ground shook as an immense body landed on all fours behind the scout, not even beating up any dust or stirring the scattered pebbles. A loud sniff sounded, and she turned around, forcing the movement until her snout came nose-to-nose with that of the largest wolfkin she had ever seen, dwarfing even skinwalkers, reducing even Mom's size to that of a dwarf. Orbs, pouring amber light of foreign celestial bodies, locked at the women. Her fur was smooth and had the color of a starless night. The jaws opened a little, enough to swallow Aranea whole.

"Who are you?" Aranea and the strange Wolfkin asked simultaneously. The Wolfkin had a soft, melodic, purred tone, laced with deep, contained rage, and by her intonation the scout understood that her initial hunch was correct. That person was female.

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