M - warning for description of a werewolf corpse.

Close to Frenchbeer Farm
Outskirts of Dartmoor National Forest
Immediately following the events of First Hunt of a Young Horse

It had taken the Capture Unit far too long to respond to the call that had come in from Chagford, and now they were stuck waiting for Shufen Chen to finish her chat with the innkeeper who summoned them.  Kurby Bagnold rolled his eyes at the darkness, leaning against a post as he waited impatiently on the porch of the small inn.

The summons had come in the middle of the night, well after the full moon had risen.  The small inn was run by a magical family, an older couple and their son.  They'd heard something howling at the edge of their property a bit after sunset before they'd turned in, but when the son had awoken in the middle of the night, he'd noticed that the door of one of the occupied rooms was wide open.  The guest who'd been staying inside had vanished.  The family was worried that their guest might have been taken by the wolf.

Chen's tinkling laughter echoed over the quiet yard, and Kurby shot another impatient look back at the inn.  How much longer was she going to make them wait?  He'd gotten as much as he needed from the innkeeper in the first thirty seconds; he didn't think a friendly extended chat was going to add anything new to their theory of what had likely happened.

"Here she comes," Peter Harfooey said suddenly, looking up from where he'd been sitting on the edge of the porch.

Kurby looked up to see Chen finally returning to them, giving one last friendly farewell to the innkeeper and his family as she slipped outside.  This time, the werewolf hunter rolled his eyes so that his teammate could see.

"Finished with bookin' your next family holiday, then?" he sniped at her.

Chen wasn't flustered by his bad temper.  She didn't even bother to roll her eyes back at him, simply taking a moment to stretch her arms as she rejoined him and Harfooey.

"Hold your horses, Bagnold," she said as she rejoined them. She shook her head, falling into place between him and their younger teammate.  "It sounds like the 'wolf was headed southwest.  There's a lake about an hour's walk from here.  It might have been going in that direction."

Finally.  Kurby gave her an unhappy look, annoyed about whatever horses he was supposed to hold.  At the very least, though, he was grateful to have an excuse to move out.  Once the talking ending and the hunt began, it was his turn to call the shots.  Now that they were able to head into the woods and take care of the problem that they'd come here to deal with, he could stop standing around feeling antsy and finally stretch his legs a bit.

"Glad we all spent fifteen minutes tryin' to sort that out," he said nicely, as he took a moment to check the silver chain on his belt one more time. 

"Alright," he said, with a glance to Harfooey to make sure the Capture Unit's newest recruit was ready to move as well.  "Let's head out."

---

The woods were dire, dark, and deep, and he felt right at home in them, weaving a path through the shadows between the trees.  Harfooey, meanwhile, moved through the forest like an ox, snapping twigs and crashing through the underbrush.  More than once, the trio had to stop so that he could untangle himself from one mess or another.

There were signs here and there that something large had crashed through here, leaving a trail that was even more noticeable than Harfooey's.  Whatever it was, it had been moving quickly, plunging along a path even deeper into the national forest.  If it was a werewolf, at least it had been running in the opposite direction of any Muggle dwellings.

Suddenly, Kurby could see some sort of clearing ahead through the trees.  He stopped short, straining to listen.  The forest was eerily silent here, but he almost thought he could smell something raw and metallic.

It smelled like blood.

With a glance at his teammates, the werewolf hunter started carefully forward again, gripping his wand in his right hand and unhooking his silver chain with his left, as he picked a deliberate path through the trees.

Whatever it was had died in the middle of the clearing: a bleeding, stinking mess that had yet to attract any predators out of the woods.  For a second, Kurby thought that he'd been wrong, and it was the mauled body of the missing inn guest; a beat later, he realized it wasn't human at all.

"What is THAT?"

Kurby whirled, but it was too late: he saw Harfooey standing in the open a few feet to his left, looking nauseated.  Even in the light from the full moon, his idiotic younger teammate's face looked green, as he stared queasily at the skinned body of the dead werewolf.

The Centaurs were aware of the magical kind, it was hard not to, they had sentries set up in a fairly large radius, the speed at which they could move helped to get news about the perimeter quickly. After a short rest from the night before, Marida was woken, they knew she was the one who often spoke to travelers and Wix, so she would be perfect for keeping an eye on them and engaging. During the day she was still busy, but as it was no longer the full moon, tonight they would celebrate both her kill and her rotation of the sun.

As the human screamed her companion, the 18th Winter old fired a warning arrow, hitting a tree near the screaming person, she didn't need assistance but they knew humans were touchy about their pets and species deviations. So he was sent to protect her if anything were to go wrong.

Marida stepped into the clearing, upon her shoulders rested a newly made blanket, now cleaned and wearable to keep herself warm during the night. She wore her new blanket rather proudly with it running down her back and onto her horse lower half. Otherwise apart from a few slings on her lower half for holding her sling. Along with a quiver and bow around her she like most other centaurs refused to wear clothing, to her it made sense, it constricts you if you're in a fight.

"That? Just some dog I hunted last night, it was in pain and we had to put it down." Her smooth and clear voice spoke, trickles of mockery lacing her tone.

Her partner kept an arrow knocked but did not draw, although his muscles tensed and relaxed with each breath, ready to fire upon the intruders at a moments hesitation. Marida however started to approach the body.

"It is much less hairy now. In the daylight I will say it is much uglier then I originally thought it was." She looked towards the human that was turning green with a smirk. "Never seen a claimed prize before? Or does your cold abominations against nature you call cities deny you vision."

With the glint of the chains visible her eyes glared towards them, seeing the supposedly lead Wizard, the one who seemed strongest, wasn't about to empty his stomach and most prepared for a fight. With his chain and wand out. A chain she knew how to fight, it was simple, a wand complicated things, not much as in their sentimentality they wouldn't dare to really harm her or her companion, but she knew it could do some things that would hinder her.

Her muscles tensed, she hadn't killed a human before, even if she was the most friendly with them, she still yearned to see if their bodies were as delicate as others said they were. Supposedly a single kick could end them, she dearly wanted to test that rumour.

If they all made it through tonight, he was going to throttle Harfooey.

Something whistled through the night, thunking into a tree just adjacent to the youngest member of their team.  Out of the corner of his eye, Kurby saw Chen whirl too; apparition was more of a risk than they might have liked in a forest that they didn't know, especially when there were things flying past them in the darkness.

"That?" a young voice cut in, its words dripping with condescension.  "Just some dog I hunted last night..."

And as Kurby turned his head and caught sight of what was stepping into the clearing, he very nearly let out a loud groan.

Centaurs.

There was no mistaking the enormous half-human, half-horse creatures slipping out from between the trees, bows held at the ready.  Even in the dark forest, the one who was speaking looked extraordinarily young, perhaps young enough that she'd still be at Hogwarts if she were human. Some sort of blanket had been draped over her shoulders, trailing down her equine half and obscuring some of the chestnut-colored fur of her hindquarters.

He could hear Harfooey breathing hard just ahead and to the left of him, frozen in a panic.  Kurby flicked his gaze upwards, wishing that his younger teammate was close enough so that he could kick him; if the kid didn't learn how to not approximate a hippogriff when he was lumbering through the forest, he was going to get someone killed someday.  To his right, Chen was on her guard but calm, watching him out of the corner of her eye.  She was ready to follow his lead in how to respond.

Bleeding centaurs.

It was rare that the Capture Unit came across them during their work.  The enormous half-equine creatures weren't susceptible to the curse of lycanthropy, and they generally did a fair job of keeping their woods free of werewolves.  He and Chen hadn't been expecting to encounter this herd here tonight.  They had to be either new to this part of the Dartmoor National Forest, or at the very edges of their territory.

"Yeah, usually the dogs we come across still have their fur coats on," Kurby said conversationally, shifting a step forwards to draw their attention. 

There were two of them that he could see, the young female that had spoke and another male, who looked nearly as young as the first.  The latter had his bow out, an arrow knocked against the string, but it wasn't drawn; he also seemed to have some kind of dark wound across his chest.  Knowing centaurs, there were likely a few more about, waiting out of sight among the trees.

"Reckon you solved our problem for the night, though," he continued, raising an eyebrow at the centaur who had spoken first.  Perfectly calm, wands lowered, no reason to send more arrows flying.  At the edge of his vision, he saw Chen move a step back behind him.  "We were wonderin' where this one had skipped off to, and it looks like you lot did a grand job of handlin' it all on your own."

It clicked inside of her head, these weren't just a travelling company of fools. Or companions of the dog. What was the word someone had used to describe them before? She remembered a Wix mentioning some sort of people that were in charge of making sure the mutts didn't go free. Obviously they hadn't done that good a job though considering the corpse laying not that far from them. Animal Control? It sounded similar.

The 18th Winter tried to take aim upon the leader approaching but Marida shot him a look to make him lower. If anything the humans coming closer made them easier to kill as they had less time to wave their dainty weapons around. They were cowed anyway and trying conversation, almost as if hoping they survived this encounter.

Their lives were in her hands, the thought was empowering, the idea was sweet upon her lips. They were trying to plead for their lives while not making it obvious. All that stood in the way was a gesture to her companion.

Ah yes the fur coat. She delicately removed her new blanket from her shoulders, to display like a trophy. "It has kept me warm over the night, it is what do you call it..." She took a short break, she knew the word but she was enjoying this, she had all the power in this exchange and she could see the dread in their eyes. "A birthday gift?"

She placed it back onto her shoulders, it was nice and warm, although Centaurs did not wear clothes, there was nothing against blankets or cloaks, especially given the time of year where the nights were longer and colder, it was foolish to say no to something to keep you warm.

"I'm glad that I have helped you, we made sure to kill cleanly, didn't want to ruin the pelt. Although saying that I cannot guarantee it was painless. We put it down like the sick mutt it was." She said in an attempt to get a rise out of the sentimentality of the humans, her body relaxing from its tensed stature to try asserting dominance, if they see she's tense they'd may think she wasn't in control here.

The young female centaur seemed to be the one in charge.  She'd been the only one to speak so far, and when her male companion had started to raise his bow, she'd shot him a look, causing the other centaur to immediately lower his weapon.  Kurby watched impassively as she removed the wolf skin from her shoulders, displaying it before them like some sort of prize.

A birthday gift?  The werewolf hunter couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that.  The female centaur was going to be incredibly disappointed if it transformed back into its human form come the morning, as werewolf pelts were wont to do when they weren't specially enchanted.

Chen was fully behind him now, lithe and ready to move like usual.   A few steps ahead to his right, Harfooey was slowly inching backwards; Kurby caught his younger teammate shooting him an anxious look over his shoulder.  But even with the first warning arrow, these centaurs didn't seem particularly inclined to engage them in any sort of fight.  They mostly seemed intent on prodding at them, prising and needling for some sort of rise.

Ignoring his teammates -- but still watching the two centaurs cautiously out of the corner of his eye -- Kurby started forward towards the mutilated corpse.  There wasn't any sort of large canine creature likely to be found in the Dartmoor woods besides an errant werewolf.  Chances were slim that the skinned animal body laying in the clearing was anything besides their quarry.

The chill of the night seemed to help with dampening the smell, but it still verged on nauseating as he got closer.  Kurby knelt next to the corpse, peering at it carefully. Examining the dead werewolf up close -- the elongated shape of what had been its snout, the contours of its now sinewy and bloody body -- he could almost picture it as it must have been in life.  It had been on the larger side, probably standing nearly as tall as his chest.  It had also been wounded even before it had lost its skin: its guts were spilling out of it in a bloody mess, and a large hole had been torn clear through its chest, cleaving the muscle there.

He could feel Chen's eyes boring into the back of his head as he rose to his feet, and he could almost picture the unhappy expression on his teammate's face.  This wasn't exactly an ideal end to their hunt for the evening.  When they weren't busy tearing flesh or mauling limbs, werewolves had human identities.  Murdering one in cold blood like this was technically a crime.  But to be fair, they worked for the Werewolf Capture Unit, not the Investigate Crimes Against Werewolves Unit.  If their quarry was dead, then their job for the evening was over; the Beast unit could sort out the rest.

"Well, I'd hate to see what you lot consider a messy kill," he quipped, turning to face the female centaur.  "If you lot don't have any use for the rest of the corpse, we'll flag this for the Beast Division and they'll be along in the morning to clean up the rest."

Marida took a few steps forwards, more so to watch what the human was doing, it certainly seemed that they didn't expect to see the Centaurs here, but this was their territory. The group may of been forced to be nomads, due to the Ministry, they were forced to be nomads. But the Moors were theirs to command, it was their home. The fact that the Ministry favored humans over the rightful owners of the land, for what? Cause they could sleep with them? These ministry workers should of known that the Centaurs would be here, they're the ones who had restricted their birthright.

Her hands tensed, she was so close to those that were responsible for her people to be dying out, but no, she wouldn't kill them, there was no purpose and no honour in doing so.

Was there a use to the body? No, she had no further use. The skinning was ultimately pointless for what they would deem practical, but to the others in the herd it was proof that they had killed a Werewolf. Sure they would of believed them, they achieved nothing but putting themselves at risk of attack if they lied, but it was of course better to have proof they put down the dog.

"No, we have no further use of the mutt. there is very little meat. Of course we could combine it with farmed crops but..oh wait we can't have land to do that as filthy...what are they called, muggles? Mudbloods? Roam our land and we're expected to just allow it and hide like you." Her tone corrupted by anger, it was to try getting a rise, none of it was wrong, they lost their land because of what another species told them to do, because of what cowards told them to do. But she also wanted to vent the thoughts in her head.

"If it helps you can have its rotting skin back, try identifying its face when it transforms back." She removed the pelt again, with one arm she tossed it like someone casually throwing their coat onto their bed, aiming at the sick looking member of the ministry raiding party. Hoping that it finally makes them throw up, as if it was some sort of challenge that humans would throw up more easily then a majestic centaur.

He wasn’t sure if the centaur simply hated werewolves with an intense passion, or she were deliberately trying to get a rise out of them.  Either way, Kurby raised his eyebrows at the misdirected slur.  He wasn’t about to get into an argument over tone with a giant half-horse, half-girl creature, but it hadn’t been so many years since people had died because someone had decided to label them a Mudblood.  Besides, Chen was Muggle-born.

Either way, the centaurs seemed ready to cede the turf to the Capture Unit. The female centaur sneered as she removed the pelt from around her shoulders and tossed it past him, nearly directly at Harfooey.  The younger wizard made a wretching sound as he scrambled back, looking as if he were going to lose his supper.

Kurby freed his wand, pointing it up at the sky.  A moment later, red sparks erupted from the tip, shooting up to hover in the dark sky overhead.

“If you’ve got a problem with the local Muggles encroaching on your herd’s territory, I’ll let the Beast Wing know they ought to drop in and check on you lot,” he informed the centaur matter-of-factly as he lowered his wand again. 

Centaurs and their bigoted attitudes weren’t his problem; murderous werewolves were.  If the werewolf here was dead, then it wasn’t his business anymore.  As soon as backup from the Ministry arrived, he and his team would report back in to deal with the rest of the night’s hunt.

The 18th Winter quickly drew their bow ready to fire at a words notice, and Marida prepared herself also, quickly her hands moved to a dagger, both of them startled by the sudden shooting of the red light into the sky, the fact it did not leave left both of them on edge now. Sorcery was dangerous, the fact it was lingering was not a good sign, she was somewhat knowledgeable of human spells, enough to know that they can have effects that last a long time or activate on a moments notice, the red lights in the sky could come down and attack the two. Hiding it as something innocent until both were dead, far too slow to do anything about it. Even with that so, she did not want to relent, her lips parted into a snarl.

"And do what? Have them tell us to part more land to those who hide in monstrosities? Who are they going to protect? The ones you fear, that stinking corpse you believe isn't doomed? Or us. Clearly by the way you refer to us they won't care." Beast Division it was an ugly name, and something that did no justice to the beauty of a centaur. They are not on the same level as a niffler, or a dog. They are mighty. "We are not beasts, if anything you are with that creature." She pointed the blade towards the body to try amplifying her message, it was not more of a person then a Centaur, to her it was lesser as it would turn into a drooling beast that only desires to kill. How are they less beastly then her?

Slowly she closed her eyes and breathed, first long and slow, then returning to a normal pace as the snarl left her and her features turned calm again. She let herself actually get angry from them, she would not let it happen again, she did not want it to happen again, she had to show she was prouder and mightier or they will never respect her and the herd. And if that happened they would cede more land to the humans, leaving her and her family to be forgotten to the ages. All of their moments, lost in time, like tears in the rain.

Now calmer she opened both eyes and took a step forwards, then started to approach, although still holding her weapon she deemed it fair, she had a knife on her and they had wands, they should feel on even grounds as her form towered over them at her approach, they could take her out just as easily as she could to them, why wouldn't they feel calm if she approached? But she did, making sure they knew each step, not through noise but how she made her walk as elegant and graceful as possible.

The two young centaurs, for all of their weapons and bold words, certainly seemed jumpy.  The one in the lead seemed determined to cover up her nervousness by trying to pick a fight.  Kurby regarded her silently, his eyebrows raised.  If he hadn't just fired off sparks to summon the team from the Ministry, he would have just said to hell with it and apparated out of here; a dead werewolf wasn't going to harm anyone, and it would probably do the Beast Division some good to have to spend their morning tromping about in the mud to find the dead dog's carcass.

But letting unsuspecting coworkers from Level Four apparate into the middle of an arrow volley from some jittery centaurs seemed like a surefire way to get yelled at by Bruce Ballentyne, and from the way that he could nearly feel Chen's gaze boring into the back of his head, at least one of his team surely wasn't going to follow his lead in abandoning their post.  Sighing inwardly, the werewolf hunter stayed where he was.

"Sure," he agreed.  Considering how quickly she had jumped to tossing Mudblood around, the centaur seemed awfully offended by his mention of the Beast Division, but he wasn't about to argue the point.  Who cared?  The quicker he placated these centaurs, the quicker he could get out of here once Beasts did arrive, and then they could get on with their job of actually protecting people instead of standing guard over a fresh carcass. 

The centaur was moving towards him now, advancing with her head held high and her knife still in her hand.  Kurby eyed her, his expression implacable, not certain he liked this sudden show of aggression.  What the bleeding hell did she want from them?  The centaur had already said she didn't have any use for the dead werewolf; was she just trying to intimidate them and get them to flinch?

The long, low howl came out of nowhere, piercing through the cold night.  Kurby went instantly still, feeling the hair on the back of his neck rise.  Silently, he looked past the centaur to the dark forest behind her, trying to gauge the distance, the direction.

There weren't wolves in Dartmoor.  A howl like that could mean only one thing.

"You lot made sure to check around before calling an end to your hunt for the night, then?" he asked the female centaur conversationally, as he passed his wand to his right hand and unhooked the silver chain from his belt with his left.  "Nothing else got past your patrols?"

The howl. There were others. The others weren't safe. The 18th Winter turned in the direction and raised his bow to aim, arm slack with the arrow but prepared to fire at a moments notice, huffing, taking a few steps back as he was spooked by the noise. Marida too was spooked, a small neighing sound escaping under her breath. Doing her best to keep it hidden however she was sure it traveled further then she would like. This was not something she had expected to happen, there were patrols, everyone had made it and came back, had it just been wandering the moors until now?

This was not something she liked and her body betrayed it as she kept moving her feet about, not staying still in spot until she calmed her huffs down. She had taken out one werewolf, she can do another. Even as a couple, they had speed on their side. If not the element of surprise. The two of them could work with this, and if anything it would be cause for more celebration right? As long as the 18th didn't die and her what humans call a birthday, wouldn't become a memorial for a potential future courter.

"The others arrived back safe. I came back to watch the body." She said in a quieter and weaker voice, she quickly cleared her throat with a cough. "The others won't come. They will keep everyone as close as they can to defend, wait it out until sunrise now." She twirled her knife and drew a second to prepare herself. She wasn't sure what the humans could do, they weren't really combat worthy, or atleast by her judging. They're fragile, small, slow. They didn't want to kill so what could they do to hold down a rampaging werewolf.

"We can deal with us. Despite what humans may think, this is our land. Besides you're against killing, so what are you exactly able to do?" She huffed, doing her best to act strong and superior despite the doubt worming its way into her tone, neither her or the 18th were veterans, they've only fought one and that was with a more experienced hunter. But the humans don't fight like Centaurs, they don't fight with honour, they use magic and probably can't even take a kick. They would just get in the way surely. Her eyes scanned the area ahead, centaurs are strong, they are strong, she is strong, she doesn't have any weapons with reach, that is fine, its not fine, it means she can get clawed, but whats a mild mauling...as long as her leg doesn't break.

The bright silver light of the full moon spilled through the clearing, pushing back their shadows to mingle with those of the forest behind them.  If they were about to get in a tumble with a werewolf, it wouldn't do for any of their teammates to unsuspectingly stumble into the middle of it.  Kurby flicked his wand in a quick, tight circle to silence the red sparks that were still floating overhead.  The crimson sparkles seemed to hang in the air overhead for an instant longer, and then began a slow tumble back down to earth, flickering and finally dimming as they reached the ground.

The two centaur youth seemed anxious, nervous; the colt shifted his weight uneasily, while the female gave a disquieted whinny.  They might not be used to werewolves in their woods, but this was what he and his team had come here for.  At last, their evening hunt could finally begin in earnest.

It had been a long, long time since they'd dealt with a true werewolf pack anywhere in Britain, but with two werewolves seemingly wandering the woods tonight, one could never be too careful.  Glancing back over his shoulder, Kurby caught Harfooey's gaze and gave a quick jerk of his heads towards the trees behind them.  His younger teammate swallowed, and then quietly turned to retreat towards the trees, wand at the ready.  His job would be to watch their back, to make sure there weren't any other adversaries circling around to take them by surprise.

To his right, Chen didn't need any similar direction.  The witch had drawn a handful of tiny silver caltrops from a pouch on her belt.  With a flick of her wand, she sent them sailing across the clearing towards the edge where the howl had come from.  The spiky metal devices grew in size as they flew, until they were about the size of a man's first.  They landed on the ground in a careful pattern, forming a ring around the edge of the glade with a break in the middle.  If all went according to plan, anything that exited the woods would be driven to the center of the clearing.

The female centaur was huffing now, but for all of the pride in her tone, she certainly didn't look confident about dealing with the werewolf.  Kurby arched an eyebrow at her, one last indulgence before he returned his attention firmly to the woods ahead of them.  Unfortunately for all of them, they had plenty of options besides killing an attacking werewolf.

Beside him, Chen had freed a silver hunting horn from her belt.  She gave him a sidelong glance, a silent check to see if he was ready.  Catching her gaze, Kurby lifted his chin in a wordless response. 

As Chen raised the hunting horn to her mouth and blew -- a high-pitched resonance too shrill for any of the humans to hear -- he began to move carefully forward towards the edge of the boundary marked by the caltrops, dark eyes steady on the forest ahead.

The humans were up to something, one was taking cover, trying to hide, it won't do them well, they would be smelt quickly and even climbing the tree would not help them, werewolves were fast, had claws and could probably knock the tree down if desperate enough for the flesh of that man, was covering them? IF there were additional werewolves around? That didn't seem likely, but neither was this one being around, that also was not likely, they'd have to move camp soon, too many werewolves and too many humans prodding about was not good for them, the humans would likely take this as an opportunity to remove more land from them.

Another took to setting out caltrops, that was a good idea, she wished she had some but they were annoying traps as they couldn't retrieve them easily and she could harm herself on them easily, and besides other then fighting werewolves was it useful, maybe if the humans wanted a war but they could build better traps for that. Regardless they were increased and laid out, creating a perimeter, they were trapping themselves inside also, without as much room to maneuver they were restricting Marida's own combat capabilities, speed was a valuable asset and by creating a sector to fight they removed that. She would have to rely on her strength which is never a good thing to purely rely on.

Then came the noise, a horrible droning noise screaming in the back of her head, the damned horn they held, what was she doing? Was she trying to anger them? Was this really a trap for the Centaurs? To kill them off as revenge for the werewolf? Is that why they were so nervous as they were setting it up? Saliva pooled in her mouth, the noise attacking her nerve, but she swallowed it back, and her annoyance at the insufferable horn. There are much better horns, ones that don't hurt those you're apparently to fight with.

Marida walked past the horn blower and spat on the ground next to them, glaring daggers at them as she shifted the weight of the blades in her hands but then moved to catch up with the leader of the group. "You think your toys can kill a werewolf?" She snarled, her doubts going from her mind now, these humans were annoying her and she was looking forwards to them leaving, the sooner the werewolf is dead the sooner they are gone. "You will need better gear, for instance silver arrows, or perhaps you have a spear in your pocket for me."