[Valesse]

Valier and Roa_Aoife turned and looked at JennyHallu, narrowing their eyes. "I am not the wolf! I'm not! I told you!" Jenny shouted back, feeling fear grow inside of her.
"Then...Why are you so frantic?" Kuruharan frowned heavily, crossing his arms.
"Because I don't want to die! I'm not a wolf!" Jenny sobbed again.

Behind her Kitanna lifted up her didgeridoo and weighed it in her hand "We know you're not the wolf, Jenny... you can calm down."
"You... do?"
"Of course!" the hermit replied with a smirk. "But by we I mean the other wolves and myself. However, I don't have time to chat, doomsayer, so this is goodbye!" And with that, Kitanna swung her mighty musical bat, hurlling Jenny deep into the mist.

Macalaure gasped "I knew it!" backing away and groping around for anything to use as a weapon against the now lupine Kitanna.
"But what you didn't figure," Roa_Aoife smirked "Was her partners in crime."
"I'm going to pickle you good!" Valier laughed, licking her lips.

Mithalwen shook her head in disbelief, holding her viola bow as if it were a sword, but quickly Roa_Aoife was advancing on her, holding the now evil looking double-necked electric guitar in one claw. "Stay away from me!" she shrieked, protecting herself the best way a violist can... starting to play. Roa_Aoife winced and with a flick of her paw, the viola disappeared in the same way as JennyHallu.

With a quick jab, Mithalwen was dead. Stabbed in the chest with both necks of the guitar.

"Mithalwen! Nooooo!" cried Macalaure, frantically trying to out run Kitanna the wolf. Surely refuge in his tent would give him some time, but as it struck him that the werewolves almost always went inside of the other's tents he found himself in a dark world stuffed inside of his tuba. "You lack originality, Wolf!"

"Yeah... but I always wanted to do that." Kitanna smiled, contently.

Outside the last villager was being cornered against the camp leader's tents by Valier, who had not quite finished alternating from licking her lips and playing her piccolo. She was watching Kuruharan like a pshycopath. Every twitch of his eye, or flinch he made at a high note was over seen. "Pickled Condottieri." She smirked "That sounds delicious."

"Stand back! If you lay a fing..a claw on me my entourage will come and avenge my death!"
Valier sighed, not wanting the verbal battle so close to sweet murder "that is if they can find you." Swiftly she grabbed Kuruharan by his garb and dragged him into her tent. There, impressively, stood an immense jar.
"No! I will not be pickled meat!" Kuruharan struggled valiantly. "I will not allow you to...!" He found Valier's piccolo, and pulled it from her claws and with great effort forced it into her chest.
Valier howlled in rage and threw Kuruharan into the jar. "Don't tell me what I can and can not pickle." She glared, closing the lid tightly.

_______
Great game, everyone,
Congrats, wolves!