"To my niece, Fortune!" bellowed Odysseus. "Named after that which favors her boldness."

The rest of Argo, assembled around tables set up in the front yard, held up their glasses and toasted their newest initiate. The deer meat that she had caught was roasting on a large fire pit nearby, while the food the pack had caught had been sent to the smokehouse.

"So Reilly," Liam spoke up, "You're really moving in? I thought you were going to join the Order."

Sammy sat on the fridges of the gathering and watched everything. He didn't think anyone could pronounce the capitalization of a word, but somehow everybody accomplished it when they mentioned this "Order." He decided to ask someone about it later. It seemed like one of those things everybody should know, so he didn't want to publicly humiliate himself by professing his ignorance right there on the spot. He was quite happy being peripheral to the attention right now, thank you very much.

"I still am," she answered. "But I want to spend a year in Argo first, do some hard work, build up some muscle. No disrespect to my mom or California, but that pack's a little too idyllic for me. I always wanted to be out here, living the rustic life."

That got her a round of commendations, before she focused her attention on a grizzled figure halfway down the table. "And a year under Hatchet's tutelage will guarantee my fast tracking through Order training, never mind what an honor it will be just to learn from him."

Hatchet only nodded his acknowledgment.

Her younger sister Madison interjected, "And I just had a talk with Mama and Dad. They said it's okay for me to stay here with you for the winter!"

Reilly really had it all. She had a pack name, she had a family who loved her, and she even had a plan for her life. She was even beautiful. Regular shifting burned calories faster than they could accumulate on a werewolf's body; but Reilly's figure had a bit of healthy excess around the bones. Sammy had put some meat on his own bones since his rescue, but he still looked emaciated by comparison to her. And with a nose like an arrowhead and fiery red hair, well, that pushed her into the category of exotic, from his point of view.

Her plan included traveling the world... on purpose, even. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to travel, completely unafraid and in control. It was no wonder everyone in the pack liked this girl. Even from an outsider's perspective, she seemed pretty cool.

***

Reilly's eyes cracked upon at the break of dawn the next day. It was her eighteenth birthday, her first full day as an adult. She had awoken early and accomplished her morning chores in like kind. With those finished, she even managed to unpack some of her stuff into her new room before breakfast. Perhaps it wasn't adult-like to be so eager, but she couldn't help that. And with nothing to do while most of the pack still slept (or were just crawling into bed, in a couple cases), she opted to go for a stroll in the woods. There was a tree in the heart of the forest that she loved to climb every time her family came for a visit.

She preferred Argo's forest over California's vineyards. Her parents' pack had been formed in the 60s, and sometimes felt more like a commune of ex-hippies than a "proper" werewolf pack. Their land was mostly used to grow grapes which provided the pack with income, but Argo had its cattle for money and food. And all the while, they could roam freely throughout the woods in their fur coats without fear of human discovery. Here, they reigned supreme as top predators of the land. That's what Reilly loved most about these woods. They made her feel powerful.

Another advantage to Argo was its mostly-adult population. The boys back home would constantly follow her around with their tongues lolling out. And she couldn't stand any little kid that wasn't her sister, most were rowdy and/or stupid. Reilly had always preferred the company of adults. "Precocious" was a word she heard a lot growing up.

The sun had peaked out from the horizon to begin a new day's journey. Reilly reached "her" tree and hoisted herself up onto her favorite branch. The thick wooden arm made a perfect seat for surveying her new domain, the land of her ancestors. She took a deep breath to savor the raw newness of the morning air, but instead she got a nosefull of male that made her hackles leap.

She twisted her head just in time to see that guy emerge from the scrub. Argo's newest recruit set Reilly's hackles on end. He'd spend the whole evening yesterday skulking about and watching her when he thought she wasn't looking, but he wasn't as subtle as he thought, especially with a salty, rancid scent like his. Bathing seemed to be a foreign concept to him. And then there was his wide-eyed, paranoid stare--the kind a serial killer would have. Why her uncle Nicholas had seen fit to accept him into the pack, she didn't understand, but it was not her place to question him. All she could do was keep her guard up.

As if he hadn't expected her to see him, he froze in place. He made for a pretty ugly werewolf--his brown coat was scraggly and his mane was even more disheveled, long hair stemming from the back of his neck and going every which way. Even though he was over six feet tall, she could see ribs poking through his scrawny frame. What an utterly [i]loathsome[/i] creature!

"What do you want?" she asked. She tried to hide the alarm in her voice, but didn't do a very convincing job. She tried to resist the memory, but this situation was all too familiar. She leapt down off her branch to confront him. Having her feet on the ground relieved the memory of some of its strength, but did little to soften the discomfort. She wouldn't let herself be cornered this time. And she wouldn't scream this time, relying on her mother to save her. But that experience that had made her swear to never be a victim again, and she was not one to break her promises.

Accepted by Uncle Nicholas or not, "packmate" or not, she was not going to let this guy make her a victim.

He just stared at her. His nostrils flared as he sniffed at her. Sniffed. His breathing became audible. Chocolate was heavy on his breath, souring her own taste for the stuff. Reilly curled her lips back and unchained the growl in her throat. But that didn't seem to intimidate the stranger--his eyes grew wider, his head sunk into his shoulders, but he held his ground.

"I asked what do you want?" she demanded. "What are you, stupid?"

The stranger began to raise his arm. Reilly didn't wait to see what he was about to do. She grabbed him by the wrist, pulled, and levered him over her own body, flipping him onto his back. The impact knocked the air from his lungs, but she didn't grant him any reprieve. With her hands still gripping his arm, she placed a foot on his chest and twisted, snapping the arm in two.

The male screamed. Not bellowed--screamed with a pitch that made her ears ring.

She let him go and saw something tumble from his limp hand. As the male curled up into a fetal position and began bawling like a little child, she saw what he had been about to give her. It was brightly-colored, and its delicate form had been crushed in the tumult. It [i]had[/i] been a flower.