Wolves are fast.

Duh. Everyone knew wolves were fast. But there’s knowing that wolves are fast in an intellectual sense. And then there’s knowing wolves are fast because a pack of them is rapidly charging across the snow at you.

Really puts words like ‘fast’ into perspective.

“Holy shit!” Micheal screamed as he and Margie frantically climbed the tree.

“Go faster!”

Steven glanced behind them. They barely had a hundred yards before the wolves caught them.

“I’m going as fast as my old ass can move!” Margie cried.

Steven dismissed and called Hand-Shields under her feet as necessary, making the climb as simple as possible. Once she was high in the birch tree, Steven gave Michael the same footholds, his heart pounding.

The man raced up the tree far faster than Margie had, leaving just Steven and Noodle in the reach of the rapidly approaching wolves.

Steven grabbed the basset hound and scaled the tree, calling and dismissing as fast as he could move his feet.

It was much harder to do when lifting himself since he had to focus on balance while timing the shields.

His shoulder burned with pain. The cut wasn’t that deep, but it was long and stung like a bastard. His side and chin throbbed, adding their grievances to his body’s list of complaints.

With Micheal’s buff, Steven barely managed to scale a decent portion of the tree before the wolves arrived.

The first didn’t slow as it sprinted to the tree. It slammed into it and started running straight up.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me!

Steven got ready to block the monster off when its momentum died out, and it was forced to jump from the tree well short of reaching them.

Margie sighed. “Whew! That was too close! Why did we think this was a good idea?”

Steven had been asking himself that as he desperately climbed with a basset hound in his arms.

Said basset hound was as nonplussed as always, looking up at Steven with a bored stare.

The wolves circled the tree, glaring up at them, their glowing blue eyes filled with hate.

It had been a little over ten minutes since their fight. As soon as Jugger-Hound was off cooldown, Buford started healing his burns. It had taken a few minutes. Buford’s healing was gradual, as super regeneration went. He was no Wolverine or Deadpool, but so long as he survived the fight itself, he would be fine.

So far, at least. Steven never intended to find out what the limit of the dog's healing was.

They had kept searching for caches when they’d run into the first of the wolves. The small pack of three wolves had promptly grown ice over their claws and fangs and charged them.

Buford tore the wolves apart, taking only scratches in return.

Then they heard howls in the distance.

The following plan was quick and desperate. Buford hid in a snow bank while the rest of them scrambled up a tree.

It was the safest plan they could think of in a hurry. Buford could tank hits from the wolves, the rest of them not so much.

“Okay,” Margie said. “So we’re in the tree. The very cold, icy tree that’s freezing my ass off.”

“Step two?” Micheal asked.

Steven glanced at Margie. “Mind sending me the Augment on Jugger?”

Margie frowned, and a prompt appeared. Steven skimmed most of it, his eyes racing to the end.

---

Active: grants augmented Skill a once-daily charge of the Skill Shock-Surge.

Shock-Surge

Rarity: rare

Effect: grants a massive increase in speed and reaction time for exactly one second.

Range: self

Energy cost: none

Cooldown: -1 hour*- (1 day)

---

“I totally forgot about that,” Margie grunted. “It says the range is ‘self,’ though? Think I can activate it from here?”

Steven shrugged. “Worth a try since it’s not clear if ‘self’ is referring to you or Buford. With my shields running interference, Oh Thank You Hero, and Jugger-Hound, Buford should be able to take the…” Steven paused to count the pack.

“12,” Micheal cut in.

“12 wolves without much trouble, even if it doesn’t work. And if it does work, he’ll be on them before they know what’s happening.”

Steven chewed his lip as he looked over the snarling wolves. “I think it’s pretty safe, but do you guys have any other ideas?”

Micheal scratched his chin. “We could have Margie use her other Skill, but it’s best to avoid that if we can.”

Keeping their Skills on the down low while being live-streamed was an obvious decision, but it still made Steven a little anxious.

What if something went wrong because they held something back? What if being worried about someone using the knowledge of their Skills against them down the line killed them right here?

You can’t die here. Stop forgetting.

Margie nodded, pulling Steven’s attention back to the present. “Agreed. Plus, Micheal can use his taunt to take the heat off Buford…let’s try it.”

Steven took a deep breath and settled on a thick branch. He considered calling Lumbering Tower-Shield. It would be much better footing than the swaying tree, but the energy cost was nothing to scoff at.

The jump from small to medium energy cost was intense, and they still had over a half hour left before this round ended. Steven couldn’t afford to be tapped out already.

Though he wasn’t that far off now—fighting for your life worked up a sweat, which was dangerous in winter.

Micheal’s buff added another layer of installation, but not that much, and their sweat had quickly dried in the freezing temperatures, sucking the warmth from their bones.

“Call Buford on three.”

Margie cracked her neck and nodded.

Micheal started the countdown.

“One.”

No spare focus on dodging.

“Two.”

You only have one job.

“Three!”

Protect him.

Margie sucked in a deep breath. “SICK EM!”

She clenched her hand, and Buford exploded out of the snow bank he was hiding in.

Buford covered the distance to the wolves in a dead sprint, but there was no flashy Skill use. He was just running really fucking fast.

Margie shook her head. No dice, then. That was fine, though. They didn’t need it.

Some wolves spun to face Buford, but most of the pack kept snarling and scrabbling at the tree.

Steven dismissed the Hand-Shields floating near the tree and got to work.

With the added buff from Tempering his Skill, Hand-Shield had a 20-foot range. They were only around twelve feet up the tree, and every single wolf was gathered around it.

Steven called a sound trapped shield under the closest wolf and pulled it straight up. The wolf yelped as the shield slammed into its stomach with a bang that made the other wolves flinch.

The pull stopped after lifting the wolf’s hind legs a foot into the air, and before it could free itself, Buford was there.

The malamute hit the pack like a dump truck.

The first wolf died instantly, Buford’s momentum cracking their bones like twigs as he barreled towards the trapped wolf.

It saw him coming and desperately tried to free itself from the shield, but it didn’t have the leverage.

Buford’s jaws clamped down on the back of the wolf's neck.

The pack snapped out of their shock and, with snarling, icy jaws open wide, charged him.

Steven began to call.

His Skills pulsed in his mind like a song, and Steven fell into that music.

Buford spun and snapped his jaws down at a charging wolf.

Two wolves rushed for his back. A green oval snapped into place before their eyes, and they crashed to a stop.

Buford killed another wolf, his jaws crackling with lightning.

A sound-trapped shield was pulled into a wolf’s chin, another blocked a leap at Buford’s back, and then he was tripping a charging wolf.

Buford flowed through the flashes of green, attacking at every opportunity, never bothering to slow down or dodge.

He trusted Steven to protect him, and Steven didn’t let him down.

Two more wolves died, then another. The remaining wolves backed away from Buford, their snarls choking off as the ice covering their fangs grew.

One of the wolves snapped its head forward and spat a shard of ice at Buford.

Steven blocked the icicle, his shield trembling slightly from the force. It wasn’t enough to crack the shield, but it was close.

The rest of the pack threw their heads forward.

Buford charged the volley of shards. Steven blocked three, a few missed, but two still slammed into Buford’s front. They pierced his skin, but he didn’t slow.

Just before Buford reached the pack, Micheal’s voice rang out.

“See me!”

Every wolf snapped their heads to Micheal.

Buford tore them apart.

Three more wolves died before the rest managed to snap out of the taunt, but by then, it was too late.

Steven blocked off the wolves as they tried to collapse on Buford, letting him deal with the remainders one or two at a time, and then it was done.

Buford stood, his paws sinking into bloody snow, as the only living thing on the forest floor.

“Holy shit,” Micheal breathed.

Margie grunted, her expression tight. “It wasn’t even close.”

“No,” Steven shook his head. “It wasn’t.”

Ding! You have slain a pack of Frost Mouths. Experience split with party

Points gained: 2

Steven Kalio: 4 points

Margie Vern: 3 points

Micheal Vane: 1 point

Steven grinned. A few more points and all of them could buy at least one Augment.

As soon as the prompt vanished, the wolf corpses began to dissolve into the air.

“The hell?” Margie asked.

The System spoke into Steven’s mind. “Can’t have the trails littered with corpses. It would harm the hiking experience of the thousands of hikers who come each year to the extensive trail sys-”

“Stop.”

“Fucking killjoy.”

Steven shook his head, then turned his attention to the ground. Which they weren’t on. Since they were in a freezing tree.

Super.

Margie pursed her lips. “And now we have to climb down.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m too old for this shit.”

Buford barked and started wagging.

“I will take that as agreement, boy.”

The dog wagged harder.