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He was cornered, tired, and having none of this. His staff was gripped in the hand of a dirty Crank, who was pointing it threateningly at Newt, his large gun was on the ground, out of ammunition, and his smaller gun was also being pointed at him. His hands were up and one move could cost him.

He didn't know why he was so tired all the time, but his reaction time wasn't on top at the moment. He hadn't gone down easily, but here he was, and Minho was who knows where.

"Look mates," Newt said, slowly looking between the men. "Keep the staff and the gun. I just want to get what I came for and be back in time for lunch."

"At least you get lunch," a particularly scruffy man spat. "We're out here scavenging for what we can get-"

"You think because I'm branded with WCKD everything comes easy?" He was five seconds away from dropping his hands out of pure annoyance. "We're all scavengers. I don't even know what the bloody-" Everyone's heads turned to the left at a strange and very out of place noise.

A wolf howling.

"What is that?" one Crank whispered to his friend. Newt dared to turn his head, slowing his breathing. A wolf? There was no mistaking the sound. But what was one doing out here?

It came again, the howl. The men were getting visibly nervous. If there was a wolf out here, no doubt it was hungry and it was very likely there were more behind it. Something must have driven them into the city.

Newt turned his head back to the men, whose focus was no longer on him. He locked his eyes on the man with his staff before kicking his gun up off the ground and into his hand. He took a step forward and swung the gun at the man, knocking him clean off his feet. Newt grabbed the staff as it flew out of the man's hands, swinging it towards another man.

One Crank on the edge of the group suddenly screamed, the sound being cut off rather abruptly. Everyone in the group including Newt turned to the man, who now had a huge white wolf standing over him, passing its tongue over its teeth.

"What in the name of...," Newt breathed, moving slowly to sling his gun across his back. The wolf looked just as slowly between the group, eyes calculating.

"It's hunting," the WCKD boy whispered. He started moving backwards, the Cranks moving with him. "Someone shoot it!"

Before anyone could do anything of the sort, the wolf snarled and leaped forward, coming in contact with one of the men. Newt stared at it as the other men scattered. The wolf made quick work of the man and stood up, opening its mouth and running at any man who lingered.

In a few seconds, all the Cranks were gone or dead. Newt was snapped back into his senses as the wolf thumped down to all four paws in front of him. He held the staff up in both hands, taking a step back. The wolf didn't move.

"What are you?" he whispered, slowly lowering the staff. The wolf blinked. "You're not going to kill me, are you?" Nothing.

He let out a small breath, lowering the staff fully and releasing one hand. He carefully got onto one knee and extended his left hand towards it. The wolf then took two steps towards him and Newt immediately regretted his decision, scrambling to his feet and stepping backwards until his back hit the wall. The wolf stopped moving.

He tilted his head at this new development. If the wolf wanted to hurt him, or if it was looking for food, why not pick off a couple men and devour them? Why not attack him when he was clearly vulnerable?

It wasn't going to hurt him, he finally decided. It could have if it wanted to.

So he got onto his knees, dropping the staff and holding both hands out. "Come here," he whispered. "Don't bite me."

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