12 Greyback Pack

Becca

With the map in one hand and my water bottle in the other, we tread through the forest, sweat rolling down my back. The air is so thick that there isn’t even a slight breeze. Despite the afternoon sun barely getting through the canopy of trees, I’m burning hot, with my hair stuck to my sweaty neck; the tickling annoys the hell out of me.

According to my research, we are already on the Greyback Pack's territory, but there's no sign of werewolves or even humans in the area. With each step, the lump in my throat grows bigger, and my heart is heavy, already knowing we won't find anything.

Jason’s steps are heavy beside me. He is losing hope, just like me, but still going on until it’s proven otherwise.

We spent two days in the nearest town sniffing around literally and figuratively, asking around the locals for the nearby farms and forest trails.

Even though we corrected them each time, the locals seemed to think we were a young couple. I have a feeling we should play into that the