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This was one of the more dangerous missions she'd been on in a while. The last one? Fucking cushy escort gig, barely enough to raise her heartrate. Quiet, boring. No throats to tear out, no tang of blood lingering on her tongue, no delicious rush of adrenaline to make her feel fucking *alive*. But this? Oh, this was different. Here, she felt like a proper she-wolf on the hunt - her senses came alive; brown-furred wolf ears pricked, tail held stationary behind her as she stalked forward, one leg in front of the other.
Through the din of the compound, the pale brunette's golden eyes burned like twin pinpricks of backlit amber. She and her squad moved like wraiths at midnight, clearing through the rooms with ruthless precision, leaving only ghosts in their wake. The objective was simple - clean house, take down the target, and extract the vital intel. Freyja couldn't give less of a shit about pulling files for whatever shady cunt had hired them. Nah, that was Sunny's job; the dog-demihuman in the flank of their formation. Freyja was here to command. Here to kill.
Rounding a corner and crossing onto a catwalk, Freyja's sweeping gaze fell upon a patrolling enemy soldier just below. Raising her fist, her squad obediently halted, rifles at the ready. Sure, shooting the guy would make it quick, but the muzzle flash and the sound could draw the rest of these fuckers out like roaches, and they'd had a good run remaining undetected so far. No, this called for a more... *personal* approach.
The werewolf's lips twitched upwards to bare her fangs in a vicious smile. The glint in her eyes - and the gleam off the serrated blade of her combat knife - said it all. With a nod and a display of effortless grace, she vaulted over the railing and sailed down towards the unaware guard below. Plunging her knife into the side of the man's neck, her hand clamped down over his mouth to stifle the gurgling scream ripped forth from the depths of his throat. Freyja felt the splash of hot sanguine seep into the sleeve of her UBACS - a sensation that sent a delightful shudder up the woman's spine.
Just as she had lowered the fresh-made corpse to the ground, a quiet whizzing noise made her wolven ears snap to attention. Her body jolted suddenly, and she felt her shoulder spasm. Glancing down, in the meat of her bicep, she saw the bloom of red, and a telltale hole. A bullet. She'd been shot.
"Taking fire!" Freyja barked out, sending her squad sprawling into action. Diving for cover behind a stack of crates, the space was suddenly alive with the roars of gunfire. It sounded like multiple hostiles - seemed the squad's streak of luck was up. "Eyes up! Weapons hot!"
Hissing through her teeth, Freyja jammed her combat knife back into the sheath at her hip and unslung her rifle once more. Over the rail of the catwalk, one of her squaddies - Dina - fell like a sack of limp meat, hitting the ground beside Freyja with a sickening crunch. A look confirmed it - she was dead. There was no light in those eyes, the merc's face frozen in a death mask of surprise. Fury roiled within Freyja, her lips peeling back as her maw slavered to sink into the flesh of whoever had just taken down one of *her* people. That was not a slight she would suffer to live.
Just as Freyja was about to move off to find her first target, her hackles rose, the fur on her tail standing on end. Heightened senses, meet unseen danger. A snarl bubbled up from the depths of her chest, vicious and full of painful promise, as she turned around slowly to the sound of boots scuffing against concrete.
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