"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of love by ourselves --
We find it with another."

-- Thomas Merton.

Remind me again why we didn't travel by car?

The lone wolf picked its way carefully through a rain-soaked forest, its thick coat barely holding the downpour at bay. Slipping between the trees on silent paws, eyes darting in every direction, constantly on the look out for danger.

Cars get noticed, the voice inside its head responded, and they'd rather this incursion remain... under the radar.

The wolf - a handsome silver when his coat wasn't waterlogged and streaked with mud - paused, its nose wrinkling as it picked up a pungent, musky smell, strong enough to travel far beyond its source.

They've been reinforcing the border, it observed clinically.

I'd expect nothing less. The rogues will certainly think twice before risking it.

Rogues, allies... this border strives to keep the whole world at bay.

It approached on tentative paws. The scent had been so heavily reinforced it lay like a thick, invisible fog across the floor, practically screaming at them not to venture any further without permission. Your brother isn't interested in uninvited guests, Asher.

He's not that keen on invited guests either, Asher reminded his wolf. He watched as Zephyr, ever the more cautious of the pair, sniffed at the noxious boundary with deep suspicion.

Are you sure we couldn't just phone ahead?

Where's the fun in that?

Zephyr let out a huff of displeasure. As they padded silently between the trees, avoiding the obvious trails, he continued to grumble to himself. Wolves observed territorial boundaries with great seriousness, and would go to great lengths to avoid trespassing on another packs hunting grounds. Their humans however, especially Zephyr's human, seemed to delight in ignoring boundaries whenever possible.

They spotted the patrol almost immediately. Only two and both in human form, they huddled miserably under the shelter of a large beech. They'd been there a while. Their senses dulled by the onslaught of rain, neither looked alert enough to spot an intruder. One, shorter than the other, tugged pointlessly at a low hanging branch, a clear sign boredom had set in.

We could slip around them?

Tempting, but we're already pushing our luck. Maybe I should take over from here?

Be my guest. Zephyr sank into Asher's conscience, their black eyes turning a rich, golden brown.

Asher grimaced as the sudden sensation of wet mud squelching under his paws mingled with the sharp scents of the forest, a damp chill settling across his shoulders. Bracing himself for the increasing discomfort to follow, he shifted, the thick fur changing to damp cloth that clung unpleasantly to his bare skin. Occasionally, the Alpha blood that allowed them to keep their clothes while shifting was less of an advantage than it appeared.

It's warm in here, his wolf noted from the back of his mind.

You're welcome, Asher muttered as he turned his head towards the patrol. They still hadn't spotted him.

Ethan won't be impressed, his wolf observed.

I won't tell him if you don't. Stepping out into plain sight, Asher was careful to make enough noise to avoid startling the warriors, approaching them with all the confidence of a man out for a leisurely afternoon stroll.

The tugger saw him first, his branch springing upwards in a shower of droplets startling his sleepy companion. The warrior's stance changed to one of wary recognition. "We've been waiting for you."

"You have?" Asher looked momentarily confused, then his face settled into a expression of sanguine amusement. "How many nights?" he asked lazily.

It was the guards turn to twist his features into an expression of confusion.

"Oh come on," Asher drawled. "He might have known I was headed this way, but he had no way of anticipating when I'd get here."

The guards exchanged a sullen glance.

"Five," the taller of the two reluctantly conceded.

Asher chuckled. It had been raining steadily for the past four days. The kind of winter rain that was still half-ice when it left the clouds, and periodically came equipped with lashings of hail stones and bouts of sleet. "And what did the two of you do to deserve this auspicious duty?"

They exchanged another glance, but made no move to reply.

Asher pursed his lips. It would be amusing to draw an explanation out of them, but he sensed their underlying fear of further punishment.

"Why don't you let him know I've arrived?" he suggested instead. "The quicker we get started, the quicker you can go home where its warm and dry."

The guard wasted no time reaching out over the link, and Asher felt his brother's powerful presence at the edge of his mind as they engaged in a brief exchange. Tempting as it was to listen in, Asher maintained a polite distance, closing his mind to the foreign link.

"Lovely weather, isn't it?" he commented to no one in particular.

The tugger shot him a sour look, and huddled deeper into his coat as though the already sodden material could somehow protect him from the still falling rain.

They didn't have long to wait before two figures appeared on the horizon, one practically dragging the other behind him; a rogue in worn, bloodstained clothes.

Fettered in chains that rattled and shuddered with his every step, the rogue shuffled forward, struggling to maintain his captor's rapid pace. Orange rings ran the radius of his wrists, angry, raw and stained with rust. He was thinner than Asher remembered; bruises littered every inch of exposed skin - a testament to his less than cordial treatment at his brother's hands - and he'd lost much of his muscle tone. Despite his physical condition though, his face showed no trace of suffering, and a familiar smirk settled upon his lips as he fell at Asher's feet.

This is a terrible idea, Zephyr reminded him for the umpteenth time.

I don't disagree, Asher murmured. But what choice do we have?

"You're late," Ethan greeted his brother as blunt as ever.

"My apologies." Asher offered a tight smile, his eyes fixed on the prisoner. "I was delayed at Blackridge."

Ethan grunted, disinterested in his brother's excuses. At the mention of Blackridge however, the prisoner's smirk widened, a glint returning to his eyes. "Trouble in paradise?"

Ethan's reaction was immediate. Pulling him to his feet with one hand, he held the rogue high enough to leave only his toes scraping the forest floor. "If you ever cross over my borders again, I'll find such a creative way to kill you wolves will shudder to hear your name for a thousand years."

The prisoner met his fierce stare, his eyes black and flickering. "Sounds painful," he managed to rasp, "I'll be sure to bear it in mind."

With an expression of deep disgust Ethan shoved the rogue towards Asher, gesturing towards the chains. "Those don't come off until he's at least a mile from my territory." He looked at his brother with a penatrating glare. "I hope you know what you're doing,"

"It's not my call," Asher murmured.

Ethan growled, disapproval clear in every movement. Never one for pleasantries, he then turned abruptly and stalked back into the forest, his part in the deal done with.

Good chat, Zephyr observed. Always nice catching up.

Asher grunted. His brother was a puzzle for another time. Grasping the chains, he gestured to his unwanted companion, a silent signal to get moving. The prisoner cooperated immediately, clearly keen to leave Ethan's territory behind.

The warriors trailed them silently back to the border, waiting until both were well out of sight before disappearing back into the trees.

Asher watched the prisoner visibly relax as they ventured deeper into the unclaimed wilderness, and indulged a twinge of satisfaction knowing at least his brother could instil an element of fear into the mercenary that had given his family so much trouble.

About a mile later they finally halted, and Asher eyed him warily. Despite his recent ordeal, a vicious intelligence shone behind the rogue's dark eyes and he showed little sign of subservience.

Zephyr let out a deep rumble of unhappiness. This is a bad -

Idea, Asher finished grimly. Yes, I know, thanks for the reminder.

After a long moment of silence, the prisoner tilted his head, bared his teeth, and raised his shackled wrists expectantly. "So, oh mighty Delta... shall we begin?"