The offer had been simple, direct, almost as if Chris had been sitting in another board room in another wannabe skyscraper in a good suit.

Almost.

Instead the offer was made in a shadowed corner of a shady dance club that Chris was deeply regretting have gone inside. Hector and Bleeds Well had been smart sneaking around but Chris, well Chris like to go head on most days. Alone at least, bluster and movement works just fine. Or did. Now under pounding industrial music the Irraka finds himself the prey.

Simple, direct, betray the pack, Necessary Guile, and everything Chris held sacred. Dumb, it was a dumb offer from someone grinning far to widely. Someone with a silver knife. Fucking silver. Fucking Pure.

From there things got messy, bloody, and a bit more messy. Grinning the grin of a maniac Chris gritted his teeth against the urge to let go and destroy the place. Instead he let the Rage slip through with a twist of his spirit side and caused a Panic. It was enough, barely, to help the Talon run for his life.

Blocks away the Irraka stumbles and pulls himself into an alleyway. A formerly good shirt is now torn and a bright angry red wound glares from Chris's torso. Blood freely runs from the wound as Chris pulls himself further into the alley. After a moment he turns off his phone and beings a slow painful walk north, further away from home.

So a simple wander in and find out turned into a cluster. Chris hurriedly moving from location to location trying to avoid the Pure hunting him. It wasn't safe to find the others, not when they had their own problems. A few days later in what Chris thought was a safe hiding place a gruff voice called out.

"Took you forever to get here. Fenris wouldn't approve."