Vicky's lips thin ever so slightly, but she doesn't say anything.
Ed seems relieved, but is obviously not entirely happy either.
Marco, though, is nodding. "Yeah. This is our land. She knows that now. She won't come back." He looks down at her. "Will you?"
The stray's gaze moves to Marco. She doesn't say anything.
"We're going to let you go," he tells her. "If we catch you on our territory again, we will kill you. This is our land now. The people in this city are under our protection."
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Marco's voice is strong and assured. It almost sounds like he believes what he says. Perhaps he does.
"Who's going to protect them from you?" she whispers, still scared but no longer begging.
"We don't hurt people," Ed says, but he sounds hollow and uncertain. "We don't."
"Not for no reason," Marco quickly caveats.
"You're werewolves," she says. "You'll always find a reason."
"You're a werewolf too," you hear yourself say.
Her eyes move back to you. She doesn't speak, but in the pale light from the nearby streetlight you can see the anger in her gaze.
She hates you. With every fibre of her being she hates you. Except maybe it isn't you. Maybe what she hates is what you are.
A part of you doesn't blame her. It's been a fucked up night.
And it's not over yet.
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