Dead. Her father was gone. Helley sat alone in a cold room knowing now that there was no chance of ever meeting the man that had gotten her mother pregnant. Did this technically make Helley an orphan now? Her mother was dead and her father was too. Was someone doing this on purpose to her? Was there a reason for this? Her life was someone’s game and it made her mad. She was angry as hell and she wanted someone to pay. She had no parents because someone thought it a good idea to kill werewolves, her mother was gone for no reason other than being a werewolf and possibly having killed a few people on a full moon and her father was dead because … she didn’t even know why but she would get to the bottom of it and someone would pay.

For that night, the streets were for Helley. She didn’t want to return “home” she didn’t want to see anything that she owned, she wanted to become primal, she wanted to become enveloped in her wolf form and to tear the hearts and limbs from the innocents that surrounded her, carrying on as though there was nothing wrong in the world. They were wrong. They were all wrong. The greatest man and werewolf in all of history was dead and they had no clue. The muggles were completely unaware while the wizarding world would be glad, celebrating the second the news became public knowledge. Helley was icky, her faber had at least one loyal person that informed her before she could find out from the papers. She was now Fenrir’s true heir, the only one of his children born a full wolf, born a lycan to lycan parents all her other siblings were mortals that might change, well apart from Billie, Helley had been sure to snack on her younger sibling when suspicion of her would be low and rumour had it that her very own father changed her oldest brother himself when he wasn't changing.

Helley’s anger didn’t subside as she spent the night walking and when day broke Helley apparated to the ministry of magic and paid her way to getting a port key to Alaska, USA. It was the fastest way to travel long distance. She’d been told to meet in Alaska if it suited her, to find out the plan, what would be happening with her father’s army. It was time, it was time for her to take control.

Helley took hold of the portkey with five seconds to go until it left. She gripped the spatula tight and sure enough it hurtled her all the way to Alaska. With a thud Helley hit the hard ground, splayed on her stomach. She was in an empty space that seemed to look like some kind of field. She disapperated from the spot she was in once her head was stable enough and no longer dizzy, then the werewolf found herself where she was supposed to be. A wizarding village, just a small one and she was right where she needed to be. A quiet pub.

Helley stepped forward into the little pub and threw the spatula to the side. It was useless now, it had served it’s purpose and now she hoped this so called allies of her father’s had something worth while to say or this was a colossal waste of her time.