Raula
My wolf gives a sniff, and she lets me take over again. Now I'm sitting in the dirt, naked, covered in blood. None of it is my own.
Ulfred immediately shifts to male form.
"Shirt," he barks at the field of moaning males. Some have managed to get themselves upright. Not a single one has dared try to leave.
The nearest male peels off a blood-stained polo shirt and holds it out.
Ulfred and I both stare at it in disgust.
"I won't wear it," I say at the same time Ulfred throws it back at the male.
He leaps to his feet and stands in front of me, shielding me from view.
He coughs. Every pair of eyes are glued on him. A fog of dread hangs in the air. They know the moment of judgement is here.
"All of you. Go back to camp. And decide. If you stay here, you are a pack slave. You're trash crew. You're the asshole I call when we gotta drain the sewage tank. Got that?"
