Plot: Two races have thrived on the planet, the humans long gone and out of their hair. The vampires and the werewolves. They'd been with us...until our extinction and our migration to other planets. So what happens when one of these werewolves gets fatally bitten by their enemy, and turns into a hybrid? A mix between a vampire and a werewolf, or a blood-wolf. What will he do in order to keep his family, friends, and clans safe? And if the humans start reappearing? What then?

A/N: Okay, this was just some random story that I had thought up, so bear with me. I don't have each chapter laid out, yadda yadda yadda, and some chapters may take a while to update. Please just leave reviews if you've read. I really appreciate critisism too, just no major flames, please. Thanks!

-+- Prologue -+-

Don’t let the prey catch your scent. You’re invisible. Act like it. Stay upwind. No sudden noises or movement that could give away your position. Just be patient and it will all work out. Watch and wait and the hunt will turn in your favor.

This lecture ran through his mind, his mouth forming the words, his eyes trained ahead of him. The breeze blew in his face, ruffling his tan fur and carrying the sweet scent of a young doe; a doe that was bleeding from a fresh claw marking on her leg. That had been his first attempt at dinner. Eat or be eaten, as his father often said, though so far neither one was turning in his direction.

In front of him was his prize, on the edge of the herd. The deer had stopped running when they thought they had lost him. But they were wrong. He had been tracking them this whole time, however slowly that may have been.

He took a step forward, his fur blending into the dead mountain grass. He was small enough to hide in the foot-high grass if he stood, even, but he stayed crouched. His golden eyes watched the injured doe, measuring his striking time carefully. One wrong move and they would get out of range.

Relax or your prey will hear you. Stay low, stay quiet, and wait for the right time to strike. Strike too early and you’ll fall too short, giving yourself away. Strike too late and they’ll have noticed you and ran, getting away. Watch and wait.

Another step. The doe lifted her head, ears twitching, and he paused nervously, his ears lying flat against his head. Give his prey time to lower his guard, that’s what he’d do. Watch and wait…watch and wait…watch and wait. The pack’s moto ran around in his thoughts, distracting him. Now was not a time for distractions! He needed all his thoughts together, not worrying over different things. All thoughts operating on the same wave length.

Once his prey let her guard down, he waited a few minutes to start the hunt up again. Then he crept forward, starting a mental countdown. Five… He’d get her this time. He was sure of it. No more slip ups. No more giving himself away at the last second.

Four… It would be better if he didn’t get clumsy this time. He’d have to work on that, because tripping over his paws happened all too much. That was one reason the doe only had a scratch down her leg. He'd fallen short - literally - and had only managed to rake her.

Three… Could this be his one success after so many failures? Maybe. Hopefully. He would have crossed his fingers if he’d had any. Though bad luck followed him like the plague. Crossing his fingers might not do anything, if he could, but a kid could always wish, couldn't he?

Two… Maybe this was a bad idea. He was still young, maybe still too young for a hunt. He was only seven, after all. His brother had waited until he was ten to start hunting. Maybe he should, too.

One… No, he could do this! He’d have to try. No one to stop him or to tell him how to do everything and when to do everything. And he had a feeling that he would get this done. Then he could be better than his brother!

Strike! He lunged, all claws and fangs, straight towards the shocked deer. It didn’t move, too frightened and surprised. Too easy. But one drawback…

“THORN!” someone shouted right as he left the grass, exposing himself. The deer was startled into running away, and his claws came within a millimeter of scratching it. He tried to chase after it, but he was too small, his legs too stubby, to actually catch up with the stampeding herd. He growled and stopped the chase, letting his prey limp away quickly and awkwardly.

He turned and trod towards the sound of the shout, his golden eyes narrowed dangerously. “Thorn, hey, what’cha doin’?” Another wolf, larger than him, loped up to him, its pink tongue lolling out of its mouth. Its fur was charcoal grey with black streaks along its body, and it stood about twice Thorn’s height.

“I was hunting until you came along, you dolt!” Thorn spat, dragging a claw in the dirt in a random pattern. The other wolf’s ears drooped at the youngster’s snapping, and Thorn looked up as if that simple movement had been loud and obvious. The grey wolf was looking at its paws, though a smirk was on its muzzle. It was clearly playing with him.

“I’m sorry. But father wanted me to come and fetch you,” the grey wolf said, looking up to meet Thorn’s gaze and letting the smirk be seen. He wasn't upset that he'd ruined Thorn's hunt in the least. “It’s dangerous out here, little brother. Blood-drinkers have been scented to the east. The pack is gathering together for a meeting. Father doesn’t want you out here alone.”

“Cloud!” Thorn whined, pouting. Cloud stiffled his laughter, since a wolf pouting was an odd sight to see. “Why didn't father come get me himself if the blood-drinkers pose such a threat? They probably just passed by and won’t come near us anyway. Our territory is marked quite clearly and they have never passed that boundary before for longer than a couple minutes.”

Cloud sighed, shaking his shaggy head slowly. “Just come with me. Father’s busy trying to get all the pack together. Two hunting parties are being rounded up that had been sent out after you. And he is also trying to gather the other pups. Just follow or I’ll have to carry you by the scruff of your neck.” Thorn sighed and nodded in agreement. Cloud turned and started loping towards the pack’s camp, his small brother hot on his tail.

“Who scented the blood-drinkers anyhow? And how far into the territory was the scent?” Thorn asked, catching up to walk side-by-side next to his brother. He glanced up into the black eyes glowing like dying embers from the mess of fur. Cloud didn’t look down.

“A patrol scented them. Me, father, Hawk, and River. They were about seventy paces into the territory and we didn't follow it further, though it went further. The scent was new, but it smelt like blood-drinker pups. I’ve smelt a full grown blood-drinker. Their scent is different than the pups. But we still have to watch out. The adults will be following. There was no indication of their leaving our territory.” Cloud fell silent again, staring ahead of them at the hill the two were climbing.

As he and Thorn progressed, the wolf smell increased, mixed with the smell of humans. Their pack was the only place where humans were found anymore.

They crested the hill, and a large village was spread out before them. Humans, barefooted and lightly clothed, walked between houses, wolves mingling with them. Adults were putting up barricades, large wolves dragging the young into one large thatched house. Children ran into the building, and a few adult wolves stayed in there.

Cloud and Thorn made their way down to the village. Humans and wolves both gave them glances before hurrying on with their duties, preparing the village for a plausible attack.

The two wolves disappeared into one of the thatched buildings. A wooden table sat near a dead fireplace, a few chairs placed around it. The building was cleaned out, other than a pile of clothing in one corner and a few pieces of meat and bread on the table.

Cloud nudged the fabric that served as a door in front of the doorway, making sure no one could look in. Then the wolf’s fur started to ripple unnaturally. The snout started to shrink into the skull, the nose still protruding. The hind legs lengthened, the tail disappearing into Cloud’s skin. The fur disappeared from the head downwards, ears going into his head, and slightly grey hair sprouting from his head.

The transformation took all of about ten seconds to complete, and he rose from the crouched position. His little brother was turned away politely until Cloud got his pants on, the only clothing worn by the wolf men. The women wore shirts as well.

Thorn went through the transformation as well and also pulled on a pair of small pants that stopped short just above his knees.

From looking at the two of them, you couldn’t see any resemblance. Cloud was tall for a thirteen-year-old boy, with slightly graying hair and black eyes. He was well muscled with tanned skin. In contrast, Thorn was short and slight with tan hair, slightly golden-brown eyes, and a pale complexion.

“Alright,” Cloud said, snatching a piece of bread and a slab of meat from the table, leaving a smaller portion for his seven-year-old brother. “I got to go find father. See if he needs help with the preparations. We’ve been expecting an attack ever since this whole war started. You need to go join the other youngsters and Hawk.”

Thorn sighed and put on a stubborn face, pocketing his food. “I want to stay with you and father! If there is a war, I need to be right along side you. Father wouldn’t make me stay behind just because of my age.”

“No, Thorn. You must stay with the other pups. It’ll be safer. But if we need you, if father needs your help, we’ll come and get you,” Cloud said, also pocketing the rest of his food and moving the fabric aside once more. He hooked it over a branch sticking out of the walls so it stayed open. “Trust me. You might not have to stay there long. Just until the scent retreats from our territory.”

Thorn opened his mouth to argue again, but Cloud put his finger over his little brother’s lips, halfway through the doorway. “No more arguing. Just go join Hawk and you’ll probably be fetched by sundown.”

“Fine. But you owe me a hunting trip!” Thorn said as Cloud left. The young teenager just chuckled and then ran off to find his father, who was somewhere within the village directing the preparations.

Thorn went to the largest building. Very few children and pups were being shepherded inside now, since most of them were there already. It was loud and obnoxious inside, and he lingered near the doorway. Some children were transforming back to human in a secluded corner, an elderly man handing each their clothing as they became human again. The others were talking, playing, wrestling, and fighting near the center of the building. This was normal. They were used to the drills. Hopefully it wasn’t the real thing.