Another five hours of travel, on foot this time and Ulrich was toast. He was a fucking prince for a reason, powerful but he couldn't use his abilities, nor let mortals see them. It would have been easier alone, as the wolf. Still, werewolves and witches were mile for mile in stamina. Well, almost. Mora wasn't panting quite as heavily as he was, but they were both wiped out.
Admittedly, it was more spinning his mental tires than exertion that sapped his energy. He was already tied in knots before this thing going on between him and Mora started. How was he going to convince Francisco to trust, to convince the pack that they needed help?
Ulrich had nearly convinced the pack to let him spread his wings, temporarily at least, to get information, maybe travel for a few weeks. He had always planned to explore the world before settling back home again.
