The doors to the great hall burst open. Two burly men march in dragging in a smaller, frail-looking man between them. The dim light barely illuminated their path as they approached the woman in the high-backed chair at the end of the chamber. They stopped several feet short of the chair and threw the beaten man to the floor, where the torches could illuminate his face as he pulled himself to his hands and knees. He looked up at the woman with fear in his swollen eyes. Dried blood covered the right side of his face originating from a cut hidden by his greying hair.
The Den Mother kept her face expressionless for a long moment, seeing the fear in his eyes as he looked up at her. In her own eyes, she didn't think she looked intimidating. Her long blonde hair reached past her shoulders. Her blue eyes were naturally wide and warm and her lips formed a natural smile which she purposely tried to hide behind a frown. She was taller than average, with long limbs that made her look like a newborn deer at times. But the look on the man's face made her want to smile with a small victory.
She let the man cower for a long few minutes, eventually, he made his way to his feet and steadied. Finally, she drew in a deep breath and said "Alistair".
The sound of his own name made him shake. The Den Mother smirked as he collected himself.
"My sincerest apologies, Den Mother," Alistair said, his voice quivering.
The Den Mother cocked her head to one side. "For what, Alistair?"
Alistair shook his head in response. "I have failed you."
"Now, what could you have done to fail me?" She asked sweetly.
Alistair shivered again, mumbling something under his breath.
The Den Mother stood and crossed the few steps toward Alistair. He visibly shied away from her advance, particularly when she reached out and gently caressed his cheek. "There is nothing to fear, Alistair. Tell me what happened."
Alistair leaned into her hand after a moment, seeming visibly relaxed. The corner of her mouth turned up in a kind smile, almost loving. Tears welled up in Alistair's eyes as he looked at her. "A recruit escaped, Den Mother."
She nodded. "I'm sure you didn't mean to, my dear Alistair."
Alistair shook his head. "I-I let him escape..."
The Den Mother shook her head. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"
Alistair swallowed hard and shook his head. "Please..."
The movement was swift enough that Alistair didn't see it coming, but the shout of pain showed that he felt it. In the span of a couple of seconds, the Den Mother pulled her free hand back and shot it forward, raking her long fingernails down Alistair's face. His hand shot up to his face as he collapsed to his knees.
"Do you realize how much you have just put at risk, Alistair?" There was not a hint of a smile on the Den Mother's face as she paced in front of the broken man. "You let a recruit escape. And so close to the rising? You have risked the entire plan, and you will not tell me why?"
"I beg your f-forgiveness," Alistair sobbed, refusing to look at her.
The Den Mother bent low and grasped the man by the jaw. She pulled him up, forcing him to gaze upon the wrath he had brought on himself. "You can beg all you wish but my forgiveness will not come easily. And let me make one thing clear: the only reason you are still alive is that right now I do not have time to find another physician for the pack." She pulled him closer until their noses almost touched. His tears mixed with the blood trickling down his face. "But one more stunt such as this, and you will be taken to the pits."
"Y-Yes, Den Mother."
She released him and he hit the ground hard. She looked to the two men who had dragged him in. "Clean him up and get him back to work. We don't have a moment to spare."
The two men nodded in response and grabbed Alistair. They dragged him away and the door slammed closed behind them. The Den Mother walked back to her chair and slumped down into it. She held her face in her hand as she tried to reduce her heart rate.
"It is so hard to find good help these days, isn't it?"
The Den Mother looked to her right to see her second-in-command stepping out from the shadows. His long hair pulled back to show his sharp features. His brown eyes glistening in the firelight. He dressed in dark clothing as he always did so he could hide easier. He stood tall with broad shoulders. His lips pulled into a cocky grin as he looked upon his superior.
"Theo," The Den Mother nearly whispered. "How long have you been there?"
Theo shrugged. "A while. I wanted to watch what you decided."
"And?"
"I think you handled him quite well," He looked to the door thoughtfully. "I wouldn't have been as merciful."
The Den Mother looked back to the door as well. "We need him."
"We are close enough that we may not."
She shook her head. "But there is a chance. I cannot risk it."
"As he risked our entire plan by letting that recruit go?" Theo reasoned.
The Den Mother drew in a deep, thoughtful breath. "You spend time among the recruits."
Theo looked at her with an amused look. "When I have time."
"Where do you think this escapee might run?" She asked.
Theo seemed to contemplate this for a moment. "I don't think he would run. He would hide or look for help."
"Could you find him?" She looked to him expectedly.
He drew in a deep breath and held it for a tantalizing minute before slowly letting it out. "I believe so."
"Do it."
"Den Mother..."
She glared, cutting him off. "I want him found and brought to me."
"Alive?"
"Is that a problem?"
They stared at each other for a long moment, challenging the other to act.
"No," Theo conceded. "I can bring him to you alive."
"Then go. And ensure that no one finds us before the time is right."
"Yes, Den Mother," Theo said with a slight bow of his head. He turned on his heel and started off toward a side door. As the door closed behind him, the Den Mother rose from her chair and walked to the large window behind her. The clouds parted enough that she could see the moon, a waning crescent in the sky.
"Soon, my love." She said to no one. "You will be avenged."