She wasn’t a little girl anymore and she knew the risks of staying shifted for as long as she had, but she felt she had no choice. A thirteen year old girl had no chance of taking revenge for her family. While not full grown her wolf form was still a formidable enemy. Tamika moved quietly throughout the woodlands of what used to be her family’s territory. With the family dead most of the wolves that had lived under the protection of the Brokefang pack had dispersed into the surrounding packs. Pack protection is what kept their kind alive. She ran at a lazy pace along the tree lines back to an old hunting cabin her father had maintained. It was off grid and power still ran to the freezers. Stepping inside the rickety structure she stopped dead in her tracks. It was always kind of her prey to find her. Tamika waited until she heard the faint click of the trigger to move. She darted out of the way of the crossbow. She stalked the man who fumbled to place another arrow in the corner. The young wolf had a mean streak. Oh, she would allow him to fumble and just about the time the man believed that he had a chance, she would strike.
