The Things We Hunger For

Chapter Three - Why Bear Traps Are Illegal *Annabeth* Part I

A/N: Because I felt the other half of this chapter needed a little tweaking, and it got so long, I split it into two, but they really are one long chapter! I'll try to get the second part up quick! Votes & comments might help with that :P

Enjoy!

Three

 -Why Bear Traps Are Illegal-

Part I

 *Annabeth*

It started to snow as I ran past one of the many abandoned hunting cabins the woods were filled with. Some were about to fall apart, others, like this one looked bad on the outside but I knew had basic supplies for lost hunters and hikers inside. Clothes, first aid, canned food and bottled water. Real life savers if you got trapped in a snow storm.

It had been snowing on and off for the past few weeks, mostly fine powder that melted away when the sun came out, or got turned to slush when it rained. The cold flakes however didn’t bother me at all as I raced down a steep hill. I was hot on the trail of a rabbit.

When I turned west I caught the scent of a wolf I didn’t recognize. It was faint, a day old probably, but thinking about the possibility of a rogue being in the area made me forget all about the rabbit. I dropped down and lay flat against the ground, my brown grayish fur fitting in with the fallen leaves and pine needles. The wind wasn’t blowing very hard so I doubted my scent would carry anywhere even if there was someone else in the area.

Remaining still and flat on the ground I listened. There was nothing. Only the sounds of the forest. Snowflakes slowly fell around me, landing on me and melting away. I wasn’t cold, both because I’d been running and because my fur was thick. I slowly got up, feeling stupid for being paranoid.

I realized I should be getting home. It was getting dark and I was a lot further from the house than I usually went when I was running on my own.

Just then the wind suddenly started to come on stronger, whipping the snowflakes around, sending me fresh waves of the scent I’d caught earlier. It wasn’t wolf I realized. Not shifter wolf or ordinary gray wolf anyway. No. There was something different about it. It smelled like what I thought the ocean must smell like, salty and tangy, while at the same time it made me think of fresh turned dirt. It was an odd scent and I couldn’t quite place it, which was rare for me. It was also mixed with blood and panic.

I moved towards the scent, catching the trail. Tracking was my favorite wolf activity and I was pretty darn good at it. With the wind clearly favoring me I didn’t think me tracking down whatever or whoever was bleeding would be a problem. And with the wind blowing hard my way my scent wouldn’t give me away so I’d be able to sneak up on whoever it was.

Setting a quick but careful pace I began to follow the trail.

A noise was the first thing that alerted me to the fact that I was getting closer, which was odd. The creature’s scent should have been getting stronger as I got closer. Only it was still about the same. Like whoever it had belonged to had passed through here yesterday. Only they were clearly still here. Odd.

Anyway, the noise was caused by something metal clanking. As I got a little closer I could also hear labored breathing mixed with muffled sounds of pain, interspersed with swearing. Really colorful swearing.