Leonardo leads his brothers across the rooftops, patrolling for trouble around the city. Tonight, it's quiet, much to the annoyance of certain family members.
"Seriously? Not a single Kraang or something?" Raphael whines, spinning his sais anxiously as they slow to a stop.
"I guess they're taking the day off," Donatello says, slipping his bō-staff into the sheathe on his shell. "Less work for us, I suppose."
Michelangelo slides down the side of a billboard, flipping over and hanging upside down as he lets his arms flop towards the ground. "Hey dudes, is anyone else wondering whether we're ever gonna find the wolf girl again?"
"Well, we haven't found any trace of her at all since she ran off," Donatello answers, shrugging his shoulders as he leans back against the same billboard his brother is dangling off of. "But it's only been one night. We've got time."
"I dunno about you guys, but she was cute," the orange-masked turtle says. "I mean...even though she was staring at us in terror."
"I suppose she had a nice...face," his purple-clad brother agrees, stroking his chin.
"At this point, you two chuckle-heads will think that any girl who even bothers to talk to us is pretty," Raphael huffs. "Even so, she didn't say anything other than begging us not to give her any trouble."
Michelangelo shrugs, refusing to drop his happy demeanour. "Come on, dude, she was just a little freaked. I'm sure once we give her backpack back, it'll be fine," he says. His baby blue eyes flicker to Leonardo, who still has the Space Heroes bag slung over his shoulder. "Right, Leo?"
The leader in blue makes a small noise, sounding sort of like, "Uh huh".
Raphael crosses his arms over his chipped plastron. "Yo! Leo!"
"Huh?" The blue-masked turtle turns to them, blinking a few times. "What?"
"You seem out of it," Donatello observes.
Leonardo blinks a few times, then shrugs. "I'm just tired, I guess."
In truth, he too is thinking of the mysterious girl they had just met. He can't explain why, be it the guilt or something else, but those wild green eyes keep crossing his mind. Those alone were so...captivating.
That poor girl, she was so afraid and seemed so vulnerable, or at least that's what Leonardo got out of their brief meeting. She was scared, true, but he can tell that she's strong as well. Living on the streets of New York can't be easy, especially for a mutant.
Being who he is, he noticed how she flipped over the pizza guy's scooter so gracefully. Her footing was off and she could've stuck the landing a little stronger, but she obviously has some skill. It was the whole reason he followed after her; curiosity as to how she learned to do a trick like that.
A sudden howl pierces the air, fierce and unrelenting like a battle cry. It's far away, the sound echoing out to them. Every single teenage turtle perks up.
"Hey, is that her?" Michelangelo asks.
"Could be," Donatello replies instantly, touching his finger to his chin. "There aren't many wolves in New York to begin with, so the possibility that that howl belonged to her would be—"
"Blah blah blah," Raphael cuts him off. "We get it! It's most likely the wolf chick."
Leonardo doesn't respond to his brothers, his eyes narrowed as he listens to the nighttime sounds. Something feels unsettling to the blue-masked terrapin, but he can't put his finger on it. He turns to his siblings, whom are still bickering about wolves and the chances of one certain wolf being at the centre of that battle.
"Guys, we need to check that out," he says, his tone authoritative.
Just as he releases the order, a second howl reaches their ears. This one sounds desperate and frightened, instantly making Leonardo tense up. He places one hand on a single katana hilt, nodding to his brothers once.
"Shell yeah! This night won't be completely boring!" Raphael grins deviously, cracking his knuckles. "Baddies to bash makes a happy night for me."
"Move out!" Leonardo orders.
They take off towards the sound, the din of a struggle disappearing before they get too far. The ninjas don't let that deter them, their path remaining straight. The four of them skid to a stop at the edge of an apartment building, Leonardo's hand silently ordering them to halt.
To their combined surprise, there's not a thing in sight. All that remains in the alleyway is the crumpled remains of Foot bots and their weapons.
Leonardo's sapphire eyes flicker to his brothers. "Let's check it out."
The turtles head down to the carnage, taking in the way that the bots were attacked. All of them are torn apart, as if they were set upon by a wild animal. Chunks of black fur litter the ground and two shiny metal arrows lay in the dirt next to some shattered bricks.
"Oh for the love of shell, do I get nothing fun to do?!" Raphael demands, kicking the head off a nearby Foot bot. "Not one measly robot."
"Guys, whoever did this, they're hurt," Donatello calls, wandering up to Raphael and Leonardo. He holds his hand out, where they can see his fingers are tinted red. "There's spots of blood on the ground, then leading out of the alley," he continues, pointing out a trail. "If this is the wolf mutant we're looking for, all we have to do is see where the blood takes us."
"If she's so wounded, how is she still walking?" Michelangelo wonders as he squats next to the red-spotted trail. "These bots don't look like they got kicked around by a person, dudes."
"It doesn't matter who did it, they're hurt," Leonardo says, puffing his chest out. "They attacked the Foot, which means they must be an ally of ours. Team, we—"
A hand grasps his shoulder, making him halt mid-sentence. Donatello shakes his head, pointing towards the sky.
"It's getting late. We've already been out for far longer than usual. Sensei will start worrying," he murmurs. Both the red and the orange-masked turtles pout a little but don't offer verbal complaints. "I think we have to call it a night."
Leonardo's jaw clenches. "Donnie, whoever did this—"
"Won't have the strength to leave the city, maybe even this area," he interrupts. "We're all exhausted, Leo. I'm sure we can find them tomorrow."
The blue-masked turtle frowns, looks at his feet, then sighs. He adjusts the strap of his backpack, nodding once. "Yeah, okay. This way we can ask Splinter about what he thinks is the best plan of action," he agrees. "Let's get home, guys."