There was nothing to suggest that anyone would be coming to the house, but Hunter couldn't take a chance. His father, although mostly quiet on blood status issues, was still in government. And there was always the fact that Hunter was what he was. Death Eaters seemed to have little patience for werewolves and if word had somehow spread, Hunter would be on their list.
"Hurry Fawn," he encouraged her, before he ran into the house. Hunter quickly located his own wand and then ran up the stairs for Fawn's. All the while, his mind was racing over what to do. He had an idea, but Fawn would never go along. He nearly tumbled down the stairs, more sure of his decision. Fawn was already in the far corner of the basement, setting their food and some candles down on the floor, when he arrived. Hunter took one last long look at her.
"I'm sorry, sister," he said, knowing that she would be massively unhappy with him. From the other side of the doorway, Hunter tossed her wand to the floor in front of her and then slammed the heavy, metal door shut between them.
"I'm sorry but I can't risk them taking you. I'll open the door when dawn breaks, I promise."