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said, "I'm going for a run on the beach first, so you'd better grab something to run in."
    Rafe stared at Kess' back. She'd turned to work on another omelet so she didn't see the brief feral expression that crossed the werehyena's face like a streak of late day heat lightning. Finn caught it though. He watched the kid carefully, fully aware that this young man came equipped with teeth and claws, just like the rest of them.
    Rafe flicked his eyes at Finn. "Okay," was all he said before going back to his food.
    Kess slid a second omelet on Finn's empty plate. Thanks, she mouthed, her face turned so Rafe wouldn’t see her. Finn accepted the food with a nod, but was more interested in what the hell Kess was trying to do here. Rafe was volatile; if she wanted a pet, Finn could think of a dozen more stable people she could collect. Heck, even Laila was more stable than Rafe and she wasn't what anyone would consider a model of self-control.
    He took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. Well, if nothing else, the run would prove interesting.
     
     
    **********
     
     
    Finn set a steady pace as they began their run. The sun was still climbing its relentless path overhead, but it was already hotter than the hinges of hell on the beach. He could feel the sweat running down his body and they'd barely been at it a mile. Rafe was trying to keep up, but even at this slow speed the kid was having a hard time. He panted behind Finn, his stride uneven. Finn could tell the kid wasn't used to running and had no experience with anything that might require any kind of endurance. Good to know.
    Finn could run all morning like this. Wolves could run for many miles and Finn, though only a wolf when he chose to be, was no different. He wasn't digging the humidity, but he needed to move, to run. He was amazed that Rafe was able to keep up as well as he was doing if he didn't have a lot of miles under him.
    He saw Rafe out of the corner of his eye. The kid pushed himself even with Finn, apparently no longer content to trail in his wake and eat sand. His shirt was sticking to him, making the werehyena look like he had taken a shower fully clothed. Finn had already shucked off his shirt.
    Rafe pulled his shirt over his head and tucked it into the belt loops of his shorts, then sprinted to make up for the lost distance. As he came up alongside, Finn did a double take. The kid was skinny, they all recognized that, but Finn had never realized how skinny he actually was.
    He could count Rafe's ribs easily, and the points of his hip bones jutted out like wings above his low slung shorts. The knobs of his spine against the skin of his back looked like a mountain range on a globe. Interspersed were silvery scars, clear holdovers of fights with other weres. The kid clearly didn't get enough to eat where he came from, which explained why he seemed to be eating his weight in protein every chance he got. It was tough on a were to be underfed; you didn't have enough energy to fuel your changes and your body began to feed off of itself. Rafe looked half-starved.
    Rafe didn't acknowledge Finn's stare, instead looking straight ahead and putting one foot in front of the other. Finn could hear the breath wheeze in Rafe's lungs, and knew the werehyena was pushing himself to keep up. Running in the sand was additional effort, designed to make muscles do more work, but the kid sounded like he might pass out at any moment. Finn eyed him cautiously, hoping that Rafe would know when to quit and not keel over.
    Finn slowed his pace a bit, trying to ease up. He was taller than the werehyena, so Rafe was working harder to just stay with him. They kept going at an easy rhythm until Finn reached the end point of his usual circuit and turned around to head back to the car. He kept to a light jog, waiting as Rafe got his breath back so he stopped wheezing like a bellows.
    Finn decided now was as good a time as any to start. And he didn't believe in subtle, so he just asked, "Don't they