“For the record,” Amara seethes through clenched teeth, ignoring the way her stomach rolls and her legs cramp, “I am blaming you for this.”

“Me?” Penelope squawks indignantly, fiery red hair swaying with her movements as she writhes and struggles against the thick rope wrapped tightly around her ankles. A thin sheen of sweat has bloomed over her brow, freckled cheeks distinctly red as she glares heartily at the rope-trap currently holding her hostage as if that will make them loosen their grip and send her tumbling back to the dirt. “Why is it me?”

“Because you said to go check out the camp of humans,” Amara replies thinly, wincing at the echoing answer of pain in her head and lets her arms swing absently by her earthy brown hair. “You said, and I quote, “let’s go see how long we can fit in with the humans at their beach party before we are caught” and now look. We are hanging upside down. By a human rope trap. Looking like this.”

Penelope briefly stops her struggling, amber eyes skittering over Amara’s tattered clothing and ivory skin gradually becoming blue as she glares at Penelope. The younger girl offers a wry grin. “At least we were at the party for fifteen minutes before they realized we weren’t human.”

“That’s what you are going to focus on right now?” Amara questions incredulously. “Not the fact we are hanging upside down like rabbits caught in a trap?”

“Well,” Penelope drawls, wiggling her body around like a gleeful slug, “more like wolves caught in a trap.”

“I swear to the Moon,” Amara grumbles under her breath, “when I get out of this, I am going to kill you.”

Penelope only laughs, barely managing to hoist her upper body up and grapple for the rope wrapped tightly around her bare ankles. She grunts, more sweat glistening across her brow and trailing down the nape of her neck as he tugs and pulls at the rope, but it does nothing to loosen it’s painful grip.

“Maybe we should call for help,” Penelope says, letting go and squealing as she returns to hanging uselessly upside. Her stomach rolls, a hint of green tinge adorning her cheeks. “Oh, my stomach. I don’t think I should have tried the bubbly apple cider.”

“Pretty sure that was alcohol, Pippin.”

With a little scrunch of her nose, Penelope cants her head to the side as she sways with her hands pressed against her stomach. “Alcohol? But I thought it was cider!”

“And that was your first mistake.” Amara side-eyes her companion wearily, noting the way her ivory skin is darkening to green. “You better not throw up on me. I swear to the Moon, Pippin, I will bite you.”

With a shaky thumbs up, Penelope remains silent as she attempts to keep her churning intact.

Sighing heavily, Amara grits her teeth against the headache beginning to bloom behind her eyes from the blood rushing to her head. She should be use to the absurd situations that seem to follow the younger she-wolf around like the plague whenever she is involved. Honestly, she should have just stayed at the pack den and wash her paws with it, but no. Amara decided to join her and now look?

They certainly aren’t just //hanging out//, now are they?

And all for fifteen minutes of clumsily mimicking humans.

“Okay,” Penelope says with another groan. “Definitely not cider.”

“You think?” Shaking her head, Amara grunts as she hoists her upper body up until her stomach burns to reach for the knots holding them hostage. “Okay, we need to focus. And whatever we do, we can’t draw attention to ourselves because of the-“

“ALPHA! BETA! HELP!”

“-pack…” If Amara wasn’t hanging upside with blood rushing to her skull and trapped in human form, she probably would have nipped at Penelope in a scolding. “Pippin! I said //don’t// draw attention to ourselves!”

“Oh.” Penelope at least has the decency to appear sheepish. “Uh, whoops?”

Closing her eyes, Amara reminds herself that Penelope is pack and she will be missed. Probably. Either way, Alpha would be furious if anything happened to her, so killing her is off the table. She is pack, after all.

The sound of twigs snapping and paws on dirt touch Amara’s sensitive hearing. Great. Looks like Penelope has actually managed to catch the pack’s attention. Wonderful. This night keeps getting better and better. Where was the Pack when they were stuck in a skunk den? Where was the pack when Penelope thought that traipsing through a creek bed in winter was a wolf way to “ice skate”? Where was the pack when Penelope decided that she wanted to join a herd of deer for “fun”?

(It wasn’t fun).

“I don’t even know why I’m shocked at this point. It’s Pippin and Mara. Double trouble. The Dynamic Duo of Chaos.” The foliage parts to reveal the lanky form of russet fur, thin from summer, and golden eyes dancing with mischief and amusement of Killian. He tilts his head to the side, examining their… predicament. “What… what are you doing?”

Amara gives the wolf a droll stare. “Oh, you know. Hanging out.”