Noah moved through the trees without making a sound.
He did not run.
Speed was useful, but speed without information could carry him directly into a trap.
Instead, he approached carefully, allowing his senses to map the area around him.
The fast heartbeat belonged to a young man.
The slower one was difficult to interpret.
It had a rhythm, but there was something wrong with it.
The pauses between beats were too long, and the faint sounds of breathing did not match the movement of the body producing them.
Noah stopped behind a thick tree.
Ahead, a young man stood with his back pressed against a fallen log.
He was in his early twenties, dressed in a dark jacket and jeans, with a fresh cut across his cheek.
His hands trembled as he held a small knife.
Ten metres away stood a creature that looked like a large wolf.
Except it was standing too upright.
Its shoulders were too broad, its forelimbs too long, and its eyes reflected the fading light with an unnatural intensity.
The creature’s lips pulled back from its teeth as it circled the injured man.
Noah’s first thought was that he had found a werewolf.
His second was that the creature did not resemble the werewolves he remembered from The Vampire Diaries.
It looked closer to the monstrous transformations associated with Teen Wolf, although the distinction was not enough to identify its exact nature.
Different supernatural traditions.
Different rules.
The creature lunged.
The young man screamed and swung the knife.
The blade struck the creature’s shoulder and bounced away, barely breaking the skin.
Noah moved.
He crossed the distance in an instant, caught the creature by the back of its neck, and drove it into the ground.
The impact sent a shock through the soil.
The creature snarled and twisted, claws scraping across Noah’s forearm.
The claws should have torn through flesh.
Instead, they left faint marks that faded almost immediately.
Noah tightened his grip.
“Stay down.”
The creature struggled.
He increased the pressure just enough to pin it without crushing its neck.
Its muscles strained beneath his hand, and for one brief moment, he felt genuine resistance.
Interesting.
The creature was stronger than an ordinary wolf by a considerable margin.
The injured man stared at Noah.
“What the hell are you?”
“Someone who heard you shouting.”
Noah kept his eyes on the creature.
Its breathing had changed.
The growling was becoming deeper, and the muscles beneath its skin were shifting in a way that suggested a transformation was either beginning or reversing.
He did not know whether killing it would trigger a curse, attract other creatures, or create a diplomatic problem with a local pack.
So he did not kill it.
He held it until its movements weakened, then pushed it away and stepped back.
The creature scrambled to its feet.
For a second, it stared at him.
Noah returned the stare without moving.
The creature lowered its head, then turned and vanished between the trees.
Noah could have pursued it easily.
He did not.
The injured man sank onto the fallen log, breathing hard.
“Did you just fight a wolf?”
“Something like that.”
“You caught it with one hand.”
“Yes.”
“That isn’t normal.”
Noah looked at him.
“Neither is a wolf standing on two legs and trying to eat you.”
The man opened his mouth, then closed it.
“Fair point.”
Noah crouched beside him.
The cut on his cheek was shallow, but there were scratches on his arms and a bruise spreading beneath his collar.
He was frightened, though the immediate danger had passed.
“Can you stand?”
“I think so.”
“Then we’re leaving.”
The man attempted to rise and nearly collapsed.
Noah caught him by the elbow, using only enough strength to support him.
“Slowly.”
They made their way toward the road.
Noah kept his attention on the woods behind them, listening for any sign that the creature had returned.
It did not.
When they reached the pavement, the injured man finally managed to speak without gasping.
“My name is Aaron.”
“Noah.”
“Aaron Pike. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
I live outside town.
I was checking a trail when that thing came out of nowhere.”
“Do you hunt?”
Aaron looked at him sharply.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because you were carrying a knife in the woods, and you didn’t look particularly surprised when it attacked you.”
Aaron hesitated.
“I’ve seen strange things before.”
That was an answer without being an answer.
Noah understood the instinct.
People who knew the supernatural existed rarely volunteered the full extent of their knowledge to strangers.
“Then you should find someone who knows more than you do,” Noah said.
“Whatever that was, it wasn’t an ordinary animal.”
Aaron stared at him.
“You say that like you know what it was.”
“I know what it wasn’t.”
Noah helped him into a car parked near the road and gave him a few practical instructions about cleaning the wounds.
He did not offer to take him to the hospital; Aaron insisted that he could reach a private clinic and seemed unusually reluctant to involve the police.
Before leaving, Aaron looked at him one last time.
“Are you sure you’re human?”
Noah smiled politely.
“Last time I checked.”
Aaron did not look convinced.
The car drove away.
Noah stood beside the road until its taillights disappeared, then returned to retrieve his groceries.
He had gone into the woods expecting a frightened man and a dangerous animal.
Instead, he had encountered his first living confirmation that the supernatural world was not merely a collection of television memories.
Something had looked at him, tested his strength, and retreated.
Noah considered that useful information.
He also considered the fact that he had intervened without thinking through every possible consequence.
Rule four, he decided.
When possible, gather information before engaging.
He picked up the grocery bag.
Then he added a second thought.
But don’t let someone die while you’re gathering it.
The two rules were not contradictory.
Learning to balance them would take practice.