With all the horrible things Jillian had heard about the Wilds, she almost expected to be attacked the second they crossed the tree line. But all was quiet save for the crunching of leaves and twigs beneath their boots. Jillian was the only one barefooted and she winced at the sharp sticks and rocks piercing her soles. She mourned her boots, which for all she knew, were still at the banks of the river back in Sherwood Forest.

Robinson was leading the pack and turned to address them. "As you know, these woods could quite possibly kill us with all the horrors it hides. With that, I want everyone to be watching everything around them at all times. All weapons must be in easy access in the likely event of an attack. If anyone hears anything out of the ordinary, report it to me at once. Any questions?"

Sparky raised his hand. "Is it too late to go back to Hansel and Gretel?"

The others laughed weakly, mostly due to the fact they were thinking the same thing.

"Undoubtedly," Robinson snapped, though their was a tiny smile. "We'll travel most of the day, only a couple of breaks, and then we'll sleep at night. No other rests, got it?"

Everyone grumbled. Jillian wondered if her feet would last even the first day.

They began to walk again. They lasted thirty second before Jackson spoke up. "You can't boss us around!"

The captain froze and slowly turned around. "Run that by me again?"

Her brother didn't falter as he came closer. "You can't make the rules! Who do you think you are?"

"I'm the captain of this crew."

"You're not mine."

Robinson's green eyes darkened to match the vegetation around him. Sparky went pale. Rosie buried his face in his map. "Listen here," Robinson snapped. "You're with us now so you follow my rules and what I say. And also-."

"Robinson," Jillian interrupted. Those eyes flashed in her direction. Holding her ground, she said, "Let him be. He's not used to how things work around here." She saw his expression soften at her words.

The captain eyed Jackson reproachfully. "Good thing Jill's here to save your neck or you wouldn't make it very far."

Jillian tried to catch Jackson's eye but he looked less than grateful for her input.

As the days passed, the Wilds began to prove why it deserved its terrible reputation. The rotting vegetation and darkness was a great cover for all sorts of creatures. Several times, Jillian felt like they were being followed. A band of hobgoblins tried to snatch all their supplies and nearly carried off Smalls in the process. Wolves, possibly werewolves, howled in distance. They were frightened of their fire so they dared not come closer. The streams that flowed through the woods were full of slimy, biting fish that nipped at hands trying to fill water pouches. They tasted decent enough, but their teeth were like razors. Soon everyone had little nicks on their hands. There wasn't much said between the members of the party. The atmosphere around them was so gloomy and morbid that conversation died as soon as it started. Maybe it was partly because, everyone was listening for the next thing that tried to kill them.

When they reached their next resting place, Jillian sat on a log and peeled off the cloth she had wrapped around her feet. After tramping through mud and splashing through creeks they were completely filthy.

Robinson sat next to her and stretched out his legs. Like everyone, the Wilds had considerably roughened him up. His blond hair was nearly reaching his shoulders and a there was a shadow of facial hair on his young face.

"What are you looking at?" he suddenly asked.

Jillian turned red. "N-nothing!" she stammered, turning her attention back to her sore feet. She rubbed a blister

Robinson followed her gaze. "You can use my boots if your feet really hurt, Jill."

"No, its okay." They had this conversation before. Jillian didn't want to receive special treatment. Sparky had been barefoot for a week now after getting stuck in quicksand and no one had offered him shoes.

Robinson frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Jillian nearly yelled.

The pirate nodded to himself. Looking up he shouted ,"Hey! Why haven't you started the fire yet?"

"The wood's wet!" Smalls exclaimed from where he and Jackson were crouched.

"Where's Sparky?" Robinson asked. When told the other pirate was collecting firewood with Boulder, he walked over to help.

Making a fire was a skill she did not posses, perhaps due to her icy powers. So Jillian sat, staring off into space. The almost tender care that Robinson gave her was a bit uncomfortable. It was so odd how he could snap at someone else then speak softly to her. A suspicion that had been growing for months now was beginning to surface. Did Robinson like her? In a romantic way? It was looking that way, perhaps even longer than she had realized. The only issue was, Jillian wasn't sure if she liked him back.

On a slightly different note, Jackson didn't like Robinson either. He was moody, silent half the time, and rude the next. Jillian hadn't connected with him at all but she tried to reason that it was because they hadn't seen each other since birth. They were strangers.

Robinson and Jackson were now arguing over the fire. "Stop putting the dry parts on the wet ground. It'll extinguish the flames!"

"Well where am I going to put it, Captain?"

"How about you stick it up your-!"

Sparky and Rosie suddenly came bursting out of the foliage at full speed, arms surprisingly empty of firewood.

Robinson looked relieved. "Good to see you Sparky. Now do you job and start-."

"Too late!" Sparky gasped, out of breath.

Jillian opened her mouth to speak but eerie howls cut through the night. The pirates unsheathed their swords and knives in a second.

"If we get a fire started we can scare them off," Jackson said.

Rosie shook his head. "It won't work. Its a pack of werewolves."

Jillian's blood ran cold as yellow eyes appeared all around them.

Werewolves in their animal form looked like regular wolves, but they were bigger and much more intelligent. Fire didn't scare them and they could understand humans as easily as any normal person. The only thing was that they craved the flesh of anything that walked through their territory, man or beast.

The werewolf pack snarled and snapped as they closed the group in. The party stood in a tight circle, back to back. She and Jackson were the only ones without weapons so she hoped their magic would be enough. Jillian wasn't skilled in combat of any kind. Robinson breathed in her ear. "Stay close to me." Then the werewolves attacked.

Almost immediately, the circle disbanded as everyone had their own wolves to fight. Jillian whirled around, blasting werewolves that came too close. Robinson could hold his own, slashing his sword across the side of one and slicing off the ear of another.

Smalls was safe on the shoulders of Boulder who had opted for a sword instead of brute strength.

"Don't let them bite you!" Robinson shouted to the group as a wolf snapped an inch from his face.

"Well duh!" Jackson snapped, freezing a werewolf to a tree. He seemed more skilled at magic than Jillian felt. He used various techniques to subdue the beasts that Jillian had never thought of before.

Out of the corner of her eye, a werewolf lept out of the shadows and tackled Sparky to the ground. He screamed as its claws tore into his back. Rosie's quick reflexes saved Sparky as he slashed his sword across its shoulder. The werewolf howled and released him. The only problem was, the werewolf turned on Rosie.

Suddenly, a shape jumped out of a tree and landed on the wolf's back. Jillian forgot everything around her as she could only stare. Eye-Eye drove his knife into the werewolf's neck, killing it. The rest of the pack had enough and slunk away, defeated.

Panting, Eye-Eye pulled his knife out of the wolf. It was covered in the beast's scarlet blood. There was no time to talk as they all ran over to aid Sparky. The group reached him a second after Boulder did, who was ripping the back of the pirate's shirt open to see the wounds better.

Jillian couldn't tell how bad it really was due to all the blood everywhere. Boulder began barking orders. Wet rags. His bag of herbs. Everyone began talking at once. Sparky stopped screaming and was lying there dumbly, not making a sound. The smell of blood was everywhere. Her stomach heaved and she vomited right where she stood. Robinson was by her side in a second.

The events of the night had finally caught up with her and it was overwhelming.

"Hey, its alright," he soothed, as tears began to run down her face. "Sparky is tough. No member in my crew is going to die on my watch."

"No, its my fault," Jillian blubbered, turning her face away. "He didn't want to come. Robinson, he didn't want to do this."

Robinson faced her. "We all made this choice to help you, Jill. You didn't force anyone."

Boulder had cleaned Sparky's back and now Jillian could see six long claw marks crisscrossing down his shoulders and back. They looked raw and fleshy. The big pirate looked grim. "The wounds need to be treated with special herbs," he said. "They're already getting infected." The skin around the marks were turning a sickly green.

Sparky stirred, "What?"

"Nothing," Eye-Eye said softly. He hadn't left his side at all. "Its going to be fine."

"What are you doing here?" Sparky asked him weakly. "I thought you were-."

"Forget about it," the other interrupted.

Robinson and Boulder walked off to talk out of earshot of Sparky. Jillian's heart thumped at their worried tones.

"What are his chances?" Robinson asked.

"Well, without the herbs, not good. He wasn't bitten so he won't become a werewolf, but the scratches can cause umm...changes to his mind, if he survives that is."