Ave. She-wolf26 here with my first story! Just a warning, I'm new to the Author Fighters and I would appreciate it if any members who would like to be in this story would please send me your name, powers, appearance, ect…

Anyway, here's my first Author Fighter fic. Ladies and Gentle-authors She-wolf26 is proud to present: Author Fighters: WolfSong.

"English."

'Untranslated Latin.'

Disclaimer: I own my OCs, everything else belongs to their respective owners.

Claws of brambles grabbed and tore at her frost-white fur, thorns cut the pads of her paws, and pebbles embedded themselves deep under the black, calloused skin; but she paid them no mind. Her heart felt like it would burst from her chest, and her legs were stiff with exhaustion. Her stomach had already voiced its protest at the lack of food more than once. The skin just above her paws was still raw from the iron manacles that had been tightly clamped around them less than two hours ago, and yet, she ignored it all. They pain she felt was insignificant compared to what was coming behind her and what would eventually happen if she was caught.

Howls echoed through the forest behind her; high-pitched and intoxicated with the thrill of the hunt.

Bloodhounds; and the blood they hounded for was her own.

But she was a Wolf. A proud and noble beast who specialized in the art of the hunt. She could move as a ghost through the forest; impossible to tell where she was or where she had been. The voice of the forest was rooted in her chest as deep as the silvery moon. Prey and predator despair: it would take more than a bunch of city-bred Dogs to bring in this Artemis.

She heard the river long before it came into view. The water was white as newly melted snow from the mountains was released after months of imprisonment. Without a second thought, she threw herself in, the freezing waves biting at the sensitive skin beneath her new summer coat.

'Oh! I hate swimming!' she griped, but she kept her head above the water and let the flow of the river carry her downstream.

It was over a mile before the current slowed and she swam to the bank. She shook the water from her pelt and struggled to resist the urge to lie down on the sandy bank. If she stopped moving now, she could die of hypothermia.

It was the stale, but familiar, scent of her mother's fresh cooking mixed with perspiration and fresh Leopard blood that lead her to a fallen log beside the river. Invisible to anyone who wasn't looking for it was a small drop of blood about a centimeter in diameter on the moss-covered surface. Hidden in a small hollow underneath the insect-rotted wood laid a clean change of clothes.

"Deus te beet, Kai."(1) In a small flash of brown light, the white wolf was gone. In her place sat a young woman. Her skin was pale and contrasted sharply with her black, short-sleeved cotton tunic and breeches. Her lips were slightly blue from her cold bath. Her hair, usually light brown highlighted with blond left over from her childhood, was now a muddy brown as it clung to her face and neck in soggy clumps. Her most striking feature, even more startling than the wolf ears and tail that remained even after her transformation, where her eyes: a blue-green color with a gray rim. A very unusually color for a Wolf, and unfortunately the prelude to a long list of troubles that had lead up to this deadly hunt.

She pulled the clothes from their hiding place and examined them. She whispered another praise as she recognized her favorite casual wear: a large, dark brown jacket; a modest, green t-shirt; blue jeans ripped at the knees; brown, fingerless gloves; and brown combat boots.

Her ears twitched as she heard the baying Bloodhounds return. The call was no longer giddy with the thought of a catch; it was now the melancholy yelp of a lost prize.

This moment of peace would not last long. She quickly stripped out of her uniform and hastily dressed in her new garb. Then, she placed her old clothes in the river and let them float downstream.

She knew she could not stop there, though. She removed her sword and let it sink to the silty river bottom. Next came the badge that marked her as a Guardian.

Then, she picked up her knife and held it to the base of her ponytail. Her magister (2) always warned her never to wear her hair long. 'It provides a hold for your opponent,' he used to say. But she had always allowed it to be her one vanity, opting to combat the problem by braiding a thread of spikes into her hair. No one who grabbed her by the hair ever made the same mistake twice.

Biting her lip, she brought the knife up in a single motion and it was done. Forcing herself to breath, she threw what used to be her ponytail into the river, along with knife used to cut it.

Finally, it came down to the part she dreaded the most. Clutching her necklace tightly, she tore it from her throat. The necklace itself was simple; a silver oval with a wolf howling at the full moon and draped around her neck on a thin leather strap, but it wasn't its beauty or its value (or lack thereof) that made it so hard to part with.

It was the necklace of a Gæain: a symbol of honor and pride. It had been wrought for her by her father and mother before she had been born and remained all she had left of them. It was her very identity. The idea of throwing it away like a piece of trash disgusted her, but all the same; it had to be done.

She squeezed her eyes shut, drew back her arm, and threw with all her might before turning from the river and running north.

She had to make it to the circle that had been prepared for her. The Wild Magic would not last after the full moon had set. She pushed her way past low-hanging branches and leapt over fallen logs and boulders. Then, in her haste, she made the worst mistake imaginable.

Distraught over her lost necklace, she failed to watch where she was going and stepped into a Coatl nest. In a flurry of brightly colored feathers and scales, the flying reptiles took to the sky; the raucous calls piercing through the still night air like a knife through flesh. It was impossible not to hear.

At once, the calls of the Bloodhounds sang through the forest once again. They were back on her trail.

She looked to the sky. Only an hour until the moon fell beneath the horizon. It wouldn't take that long for the Bloodhounds to find her again, unless she found a way to throw them off her scent again.

'Take to the trees,' a voice in her head that sounded strangely like her soror echoed in her mind. It would be an easy way to lose her pursuers. After all, Dogs couldn't climb trees.

She dismissed the idea just as quickly as she had thought it as a wave of vertigo hit. 'If wolves were meant to be with their paws off the ground, they would have been born with wings,' she had always told her soror. She'd rather take her chances with the Bloodhounds. At least she could fight them off.

Unfortunately, while she was battling her internal debate, the hunters in question were drawing closer. She traveled the rest of the way on foot.

She resisted the urge to cry out for joy as a rock cave came into view. Inside, she knew, was her chance to escape. But just as she reached the cave's mouth, something snaked around her ankle and pulled her to the rocky ground.

As she struggled to right herself, she turned to see what had tripped her. Wrapped tightly around her boot was a braided bullwhip.

She blinked and shielded her eyes as a woman stepped from the shadow of the forest and stood over her triumphant. Her hair was dark brown and scales of the same shade covered her high cheeks and slender arms. A bright red fire burned in her right hand. Around her neck shone her Gæain necklace: a coiled cobra with its head raised to strike.

"How did you get here before me?" The Wolf asked her.

"I followed your friend here," replied the Cobra, her sadistic ruby eyes and scarlet lipstick intensified by her fire's glow. "Don't fear for her. Why catch the small fish when you can have the big one. Guess who's my catch of the day."

"I'm nobody's prey!" With a loud grunt, the Wolf swung her leg around in an attempt to kick the Cobra's legs out from under her. However, the move had been expected and the serpent leapt into the air in a graceful back flip and landed a foot away.

Using her follow-through from her failed strike, the Wolf pulled herself to her knees and rolled to the side as a crimson fireball scorched the ground where she had been lying.

Thus began their deadly dance. Under the light of the sinking moon, the two opponents kicked and struck at each other; neither one gaining the upper hand. It wasn't long until they separated for air; both heavily bruised with chests heaving for oxygen.

It was the Cobra who started the fight again, but the Wolf who finished it. Catching the kick thrown by the Cobra under her arm, the Wolf thrust her elbow into the nerve running along the side of the leg. A pained cry from the Cobra told her she had hit her mark. Fifteen seconds until moon-down. She twisted her foot behind the Cobra's other leg and pulled up, bring the Cobra and herself to the ground. Ten seconds until moon-down. She pulled herself to her feet quickly and ran to the chalk circle in the center of the cave. The Cobra attempted to rise and follow, but her leg was still paralyzed from the blow. Five seconds until moon-down. Reaching into the scabbard tied to her leg, the Cobra pulled out a knife and threw it in a desperate attempt to handicap her quarry just as the Wolf reached the circle. In a blinding flash of brown magic, the Wolf disappeared and the knife embedded itself in the center of the circle uselessly.

When the pack of Bloodhounds arrived ten minutes later, the Cobra had limped towards the circle and retrieved her dagger. Her face was flushed with frustration as she examined the circle that had been crudely drawn on the stone.

'Foolish kitten," she thought, her face twisting into a triumphant grin once again as she recognized the pattern. "You think you've sent her to safety, but in truth you send her to her own doom.'

"Milady!" the leader of the Bloodhounds called as they returned to their human forms in flashes of magic.

"Send word back to the Zodiac," she commanded "tell them that they shall have their traitor yet."

"Milady, where has she gone?" The Bloodhound asked, daring to draw closer to the circle "I sense powerful magic from this place. Has she teleported?"

"Yes, but not to anyplace on Gæa."

"Then, where, Milady? I mean, where has she left to go." The Cobra's scarlet grin grew as her head lulled back to gaze up at the sky.

"You didn't honestly think we're alone here on our safe little Gæa, did you Commander? Our mages tell us of words and dimensions far beyond ours inhabited by creatures and beings with cultures and societies all their own."

"Are you saying she has gone to one of these other worlds?" The commander asked, enthralled by his lady's words. Again, the Cobra answered his question with one of her own.

"Have you ever heard tell of creatures without a beast form?"

The commander swallowed thickly; there wasn't a child on Gæa whose mother hadn't threatened with tales of such beasts snatching disobedient children from their beds. But these demons were just stories; goblins and ghouls created to scare children into behaving, right?

"Oh, yes, Commander, these beings do exist," the Cobra replied as if she had read his thoughts "and that traitor has just fallen into the largest nest of them in the universe."

The Commander recoiled and drew a cross across his chest. It didn't matter if she was a traitor and a murder; no one deserved a fate like that.

"Send you fastest Bloodhound ahead, Commander," the commander jumped when his lady spoke again "have him assemble the most powerful Wild Mages we have and have the begin another teleportation spell."

"Milady, surely you are not think of…"

"Yes, Commander, I'm going after her. I certainly can't have those creatures spoiling my prey before I do."

Ignoring the Bloodhounds, futile pleas, the Cobra looked to the sky as the suns first warming rays fell over the land. Basking in the sun's heat, she felt rejuvenated. She would have to wait a month for the next full moon before the spell could work again, by then her quarry would already have a head start, but that suited her just fine; she liked a good chase.

Meanwhile, on a world far from Gæa, a blinding flash of brown light illuminated an alleyway in a large city. As the light faded, the Wolf stumbled to the wall and sat with her back against the graffiti-covered red brick, gasping for breath from the aftershock of using such powerful magic.

Blood poured from her right palm as her claw-like fingernails pierced the skin. Slowly, she uncurled her fist. Clutched tightly in her hand was her Gæain necklace; she had never let it go.

With a small smile, she held the silver charm close to her heart and allowed a single tear to run down her cheek. She swore then and there, with her blood staining the silver charm bright red, that even in her exile, she would still hold on to honor as a Gæain.

A loud metallic crash echoed through the alley. Just as a homeless man hobbled into the alleyway, a large, white figure flew past his feet and ran to the right. The man grumbled something about mangy strays before beginning his search through the trashcans.

The Wolf ran for a few more blocks before stopping to observe her surroundings. The skyway was lined with the tallest and strangest buildings she had ever seen. They weren't made of stone like on her world, but of glass and a strange, silver or smooth gray material. The walkways were dull gray and littered with trash and debris. Trees sprung from evenly spaced patches of earth, but they were small and thin and some even looked sickly. Was this normal? Where all trees like these? Did they have no forests at all? She sneezed as the air, foul smelling and thick with smog, met her nostrils. With air as toxic as that, she was amazed trees could grow there at all. She glanced down at the hard surface beneath her feet. It was black with strange yellow and white symbols painted on it.

A sharp, raucous noise suddenly cut through the air. Startled, She looked up just as something large and red came barreling towards her. She leapt towards the gray walkway just seconds before it roared past, ruffling her white fur as it went. Soon, another came after it, then a dark blue one, then a black one, then a white one; each one leaving a cloud of foul, black haze in their wake, possibly adding to the already poisonous air.

The Wolf watched them curiously. What were these strange giants? Where they dangerous or just noisy? They couldn't seem to leave the black surface, and she made a note to avoid it from now on.

A high pitched shout drew her attention from the strange creatures to a pale pink being that toddled towards her. It appeared similar to Gæain pup, but its ears were fleshy and rounded, not furry like a Gæain's. Its curious bright blue eyes examined the Wolf playfully.

The pup called over its shoulder to a tall, female being that was clearly its mater (3). She ran to the pup, speaking to him in a strange language as she pulled him away, warily watching the Wolf. As mater and pup walked off, the wolf had a surprising realization: they had no tails.

Another being, an adult male, brushed past her. He also had no tail. Then, a young female who appeared to be talking to herself passed, then an elderly couple, a female carrying a very young pup, a young male on a strange two-wheeled contraption. They all had one thing in common: they had no animalistic characteristics.

Startled, the Wolf darted into an empty alley and ducked into an empty, circular, silver container. She had been told of such beings from her educatrix when she was a child and had gotten into trouble. Demons so evil they were denied a beast form and could not use Wild Magic.

But then, there was the pup. He didn't seem evil and neither did his mater; she just seemed protective.

The Wolf yawned as fatigue from the teleportation spell and her first experience with this new world washed over her like a wave. She would think it over later, now she needed to sleep. If alleys were avoided as much here as they were on Gæa (and judging by the putrid odor of vomit and other equally foul stenches, they probably were) then she would be undisturbed as she rested.

She laid her head on her front paws and closed her blue-green eyes and allowed herself to drift into a peaceful sleep in the arms of Morpheus (4).

1) DEH-oos tay BEH-eht – 'God bless you'

2) Teacher

3) Mother

4) Greek god of dreams

That's She-wolf's first reaction to Los Angeles. And just so you know, my Latin is still a little weak, so most of my quotes will be from other sources. Remeber, that review button gets lonely down there, so don't forget to leave a review. Please! (Shape-shifts into wolf form and gives puppy-dog eyes.)