Ankyra Sound nobody expects the spanish inquisition

He ran like hell, from that stone circle all the way back to the coast. He barely stopped, only to hydrate and relieve himself; sleep and food could wait (he'd have nightmares about a paralyzed marionette puppy anyway). There was no fucking way he was letting Caiaphas catch him up, nuh uh, nope. Over hill and over dale, he ran, until he smelled salt once more. Even then, he didn't slacken his pace.

Verx could have given Usain Bolt a run for his money as he streaked across the border, already howling for the relevant parties. @Illidan! @Rosalyn! @Erzulie! he called out, voice hoarse and trembling with exhaustion. Those were the only wolves higher in rank than himself; he didn't feel it necessary to shout for anyone else.

Once he'd reached the beach, he skittered to a halt in the sand, taking huge gulps of air, his legs threatening to give way at any moment. Yet he couldn't stay still; he began to pace, wobbly and slow, in circles, waiting for the others to come. There was no time to spare. Blackhead couldn't be allowed back here, not after what he'd seen.

Because if these motherfuckers were gonna just welcome her back with open arms. . .there was no way in hell he was bringing his kids within one hundred miles of that crazy sea witch. No fucking way in hell. He was throwing all his cards on the table, and he was doing it right goddamn now.