Salzem knew it was a mistake to join Jason's pack. He knew that that runt didn't have what it took to lead him and look where they were now: Their leader was gone, the pack was in disarray and the higherups were just barely keeping the others from going rogue. With no one capable to direct his movements, Salzem had left the confines of the pack on his own, not willing to put up with the internal squabbles of the animistic politicians. He cared not for who would lead or what might become of the pack because, in his mind, there was no pack anymore. Jason was the only strong pillar of that society and now it cracked and shook under its own weight. Not one of the others could fill his roll and Salzem wouldn't bother to try. Nonetheless, letting them all crumble to dust was an act cruel in it of itself. He might as well condemn them to live off on their own, a life, he had to admit, was hardly comparable to the vague comradery the wolf-pack had together.
For weeks now, the black-werewolf had been combing the forest clean, looking for any trace of their former leader. A patch of hair, a nail, perhaps a limb or eye-ball but much to his frustration, Salzem had no such luck. Not a single scrap of his leader could be found, for all his tracking and hunting skills did him. He might as well have disappeared from the world all together. The only one that had a vague sense of where he might have gone was his mate but he hadn't the time to search for her either. This whole charade was a waste of his time, he knew that and he still kept looking. It was a harrowing thought that he might be looking for the rest of his days or, worse yet, return to the pack and telling them that Jason might be dead. If one thing was for certain in this sick, perverted world of theirs, it was that Salzem was going to KILL Jason as soon as he finds him.
As Salzem prowled around the treeline for the 2nd time this week, he came across a unique smell, a smell of a human or something like it. He closed in on the scent, desperate to pry any news out of this person that might retain to their leader. The last couple of merchants had nothing but the gold stuffed into their pants, even after extensive..... questioning. This silence was frustrating to say the least. Salzem closed in on the scent, his own along with the rest of him concealed by the leaves of the trees and the oils of the brush. Sitting against one of the more ancient, but healthy tree-trunks was a girl, thin, pale, and with short, dull red hair. She looked exausted, perhaps even wasted, a perfect person to pry for information... Quick as a flash, the lycanthrope descended on the girl, his massive wolven shape slamming to the ground as he snarled viscously. With a growl, his claw-like fingers would dig into the back collar of her shirt before he'd toss her back into the brush where he had come from, hidden from anyone else who might continue down the road.
The girl would slam back-first into another, thinner tree-trunk with no significant damage beyond some minor back-pain. Salzem would shift through the trees as if he were melting through them before he stood an intimidating nine feet on his hind legs, glaring down at her with glowing red eyes.
"Where is Jason Fairchild?" The werewolf snarled through his teeth.
