Hunting had always been part of the New Carinthian way of life, and it had carried on after Ruth Gray had declared the dissolution of the original twenty-eight packs and declared Corviston the capital city. 

In the new nation hunting had been promoted as a way of bonding, a kinship that went beyond the old, obsolete boundaries of pack and rank. Hundreds of fenced-in hunting ranges had been established over the fledgling state.

Then, starting in the 1960s, urbanisation, the rise of animal rights activists and changes in lifestyle had converged to force a precipitous drop in the popularity of hunting as a pastime. Werewolves caring about animal rights seemed like the definition of oxymoron, but the numbers of people heading out every full moon continued to drop over the following decades, despite a few false starts here and there. 

Several scandals regarding the owners' tendencies towards hiring rogues from across the border and mistreating the game animals were the final nail in the coffin. Then someone had had the brainwave of making the age-old institution more palatable to the ethically-minded. The often malnourished and mistreated deer and grouse were replaced with state of the art robots. 

At first, the idea of a vegan hunting lodge had been the butt of jokes, but after some strategic celebrity endorsements, people began to take the thing seriously. Soon there began a steady stream of thrillseekers of all breeds paying upwards of $200 an hour every full moon to run around a fenced-in bit of woodland in wolf form chasing animatronic robots wrapped firmly with their choice of tofu, tempeh, raw Impossible Burger patty or some other type of meat substitute. 

Despite the insufferable clientele and the robots, which the undocumented rogue wolves from the Independent Territories never seemed to be able to fix properly, the biggest problem by far proved to be the method of securing the ethical meat substitutes to the metal skeleton of the robot. 

At first they had used fishing line. This was sturdy and usually lasted for a whole night, and perfectly adequate for the vast majority of customers, who were only fast enough to nip at the extremities of the robots. However, for the fitter clients who could get their entire jaw around a faux-rump of preformed tofu, it could get a lot more risky. 

This was soon proved when an up-and-coming paralegal nearly choked to death after getting her jaws caught in the lines. The food safety people had cracked down and afterwards they switched to rubber bands and cotton twine, which were much gentler on wolf jaws but made for a rather more messy and less efficient eating experience. So inefficient in fact, that people started losing money from all the tofu going to waste. 

Then began a period of further experimenting with alternative tethering methods, with limited success. And so, after exhausting the possibilities within the laws of physics, the owners had inevitably called in some outside help to bend the aforementioned rules. 

And that was how Adrian came to be sitting on a patio with sweeping views of the range framed by chestnut trees sipping a coffee. The boys had already gone off with the staff. 

He finished his coffee and set the empty cup carefully in the middle of the saucer. The scenery really was quite exquisite. He had maybe two hours to unwind and savour it before they would come back. 

He glanced at a newspaper left on the table next to him. The Daily Howl, Corviston's answer to the British tabloids. Some Alpha across the border had rejected their mate after two weeks, apparently. He had actually gatecrashed one of the aforementioned Alpha's infamous parties once. Everybody had been too blazed or drunk to notice that he was not a pack wolf. He had come over the border to get away from this shit, and it turned out that the people were quite fond of the bastards here too.

It was now a couple of days since Brendan had told him to leave. His reaction at the mere mention of his old school was still fresh in his mind. 

On a whim Adrian had checked out the newspaper archives in the school library. And lo and behold, the same face was there. He looked a bit chubbier and he was in a school uniform, but it was him, all right. 

The other teachers had been talking about something coming up in the next week or so. An event, in the city, something the school had a stake in. He had no proof, but he was almost sure that it was linked to his own quest. There was the sense of things moving behind the scenes, falling into place. He needed to move fast, against an opponent who he didn't even know the slightest thing about. 

What he really needed was someone who knew the ins and outs of the school. Someone who could be his guide. He might have a chance of convincing Beidzner, but he was in Europe looking at cathedrals or whatever. Long distance relationships were hard enough. Long distance persuasion of a grumpy old design tech teacher into working against his employer was just dreaming. 

Really, when it came down to it, the only person who could help him was Brendan. He couldn't risk trying to convince someone within the school, and he didn't know any other Carleton alumni that might be able to help him. He could ask some of the kids. He would be completely unsurprised if some of his own charges were quite willing to help him, but that was transgressing all kinds of ethical boundaries he wasn't willing to cross no matter how urgent the situation was. 

He realised he would have to go back to the store in Diggory. He would need to explain to Brendan what he was going to do and that he needed his help. There was a chance he would get the same response t was a risk he needed to take. He didn't really have any choice. He just hoped that it wouldn't go too badly. 

***

Adrian paced up and down the rather seedy shopping strip that was Diggory's commercial centre. He really did feel out of place here. He noticed a beggar sitting next to a shopfront staring at him oddly. 

His original plan had been to catch up with Brendan as he locked up for the night, but he had no idea when that might be, and his attempts at finding out had all been rather abortive. 

The beggar was still staring at him as he entered the store. There was an unfamiliar face behind the counter. A girl who looked roughly the same age as Brendan. 

"I'm looking for Brendan," he said, approaching the counter, by way of introduction. 

"He's not in," she replied, without missing a beat. "Did you leave an order with him?"

"Yes. A linework book." 

"Well, um..."

"Do you know where he might be?" 

"I don't know. He might be at the library." 

"Actually, I'm here." They turned around, and there Brendan was, in the doorway. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept in two days. There were bags under his eyes. His skin was paler than he remembered it. 

"It's you again," he said to Adrian, with no trace of the edge his voice had exhibited on their last encounter. His voice was jaded. He sounded like he'd been expecting him. "I thought you'd be looking for me." 

"Should we talk somewhere else?"

"Let's." Brendan led the way. 

***

"Well, I've thought about it. And it doesn't make much sense, if you really think about it," Brendan said. They were walking along the main street. "Usually they try to manipulate you. Convince you that I am their enemy. You know, they clearly didn't tell you anything. Anyway, it doesn't seem like their style. They don't just get randoms to do this kind of intimidation stuff anymore. These days they just hire werewolf packs to do their dirty work for them. They generally don't fuck up, they don't talk if the cops get them, and the cops have no jurisdiction over them anyway. And they tend to not ask questions and they're cheap to hire." 

Adrian briefly entertained the notion of explaining his acquaintance with some of these people, and in conjunction his own complicated family history, but decided to save it for another time. It could wait for later. 

"You don't even know anything about these people, do you?" Brendan looked up at the sky. Dusk was falling. The stars would be coming out soon. This part of the suburbs was no paragon of responsible development, but it was far away enough from the light pollution of the city centre that a reasonable part of the Milky Way could be seen. 

"It just seemed like a normal private school," Adrian said. "Until the teachers' orientation and they showed us the science labs."

"The windows are blastproof. You don't need to worry." 

"Well, I didn't know that." 

"You want something to eat?" 

"I'm fine." 

"Fuck it, I'm not hungry either." Brendan racked his brain. "Where should we go? The park. Actually, don't go there. It's a fucking dump. This whole place is a fucking dump." 

Most of the shops were closed or in the process of closing, shopfronts covered in ugly metal shutters, except for the kebab place, which was still buzzing with customers. The beggar had disappeared. 

"Explain to me." Brendan looked at him. "What exactly are you trying to do? What do you want from these people?" 

Adrian thought for a moment. "That's going to need some time." 

"I've got plenty of time," Brendan replied. 

"Are you free on Saturday?" The sky was darkening fast behind them. "I need to show you something."

Brendan felt oddly exposed. But his gut feeling was that Adrian was telling him the truth. "Is it far away?"

"Not that far if we drive."

"Okay then," Brendan said hesitantly. "I'll be there." He looked into Adrian's eyes. "You or your family lost something. Or had something taken from them. And now you're trying to get it back."

 "How do you know?" Adrian was geniunely surprised. 

"I've seen that look in your eyes before. That reminds me of old Tommy Tran."

"Is he related to Gabriel Tran?" Adrian looked at him. "He's in one of my art classes." 

"They might be cousins. Poor old Tommy Tran." Brendan stared into the distance wistfully. "Wanted to avenge the crippling of his father." 

"And did he succeed?" 

 "Well, you can ask him, he's in a cell in a secure facility." Brendan turned to face Adrian. "Many such cases. In my experience you either die or go insane. So I guess it's my job to prevent that."