When one has regular dealings with Werewolves, especially in sensitive matters like pack relations and the like, one develops a number of rules. These can range anywhere from [i]rule 12: Only bring jerky if you have enough to share[/i] and [i]rule 13: One never has enough jerky to share[/i], to the more extreme such as rule 22.

[i]Never get involved in a Were fight, at the slightest notion of one, get out.[/i]

It was this last rule that Hadrian was all to happy to comply with the second Elize turned and shifted to respond to another Were. His execution was practiced and quick, taking just about as much time as it took Elize to respond to the other. He began by springing away from the shifting wolf, then launching himself backwards his form blurring into that of a large crow as he did so. Beating its wings hard and fast, the crow shot into the air, far out of reach of any leaping wolves. As he climbed Hadrian felt a slight breeze, and with it a sense of freedom, the Earth stretching out far beyond the trees, so much to see and so much sky to fly. He would have stayed longer, his black feathers being warmed by the sun. But he still had things to do on the ground, so he lowed his ascent and brought himself down on top of the ship, letting out a slightly annoyed Caw at the direction of the wolves. Noting the waking of other members of the crew Hadrian hopped over to the edge of the ship to get a better look at them, his head involuntarily tilting slightly to the side as he did so.