Bucky didn't let himself show any shock at the sight of the second body, but his nose confirmed that it was a wolf before Dana even spoke. It was hard to do that to a werewolf. Not impossible, but whatever had done it either tore their victim to pieces faster than their victim had been able to heal—difficult, but not impossible, even if fights between wolves—or it had impeded their regeneration somehow. Silver was the most traditional method.

He rubbed the stubble along his jaw, his mind drifting back to things he preferred not to think on too hard. Memories he liked to leave buried.

"Not since the war," he said in a low, gravelly voice. Which was a roundabout way of saying he had, sort of.

He needed to think, and he wasn't ready to start telling those stories. Not with Dana, and especially not with a vampire.

"Was there any silver in their system? Wolfsbane?"