Stories are just words without meaning.

[Skoll]

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I'll make sure to abridge this sucker from the biography in my profile =P The older wolf frowned. No...the wolves here usually didn't. He had fought to save that little white wolf's life, but because the Inferni coyotes had waited until she was just over the border to try and murder her, they could say he'd invaded. The Inferni coyotes had just recently invaded Aremys at that time, without any provocation, simply waltzed in, drove the pack out, and their leader slaughtered their puppies. But when they made a complaint that someone had entered their lands and engaged them in violence, they could still count on support from both the leader of Jaded Shadows, as well as the leader of Storm. It had been betrayal, he expected that the two were afraid of them, not brave enough to stand for what was right. Maybe Fatin was just vicious like the coyotes, he wasn't sure, but he did know that she supported them and their actions. He was so clearly in the right to do what he'd done...the coyotes had even let their youngest fight him, adolescents not even a year old. He had held back as long as he could, and most of his injuries had come when Gabriel and his brother used them to divert his attention. Nevertheless, when they had gotten hurt, Inferni had used that to illicit sympathy from wolves who, out of fear, he supposed, readily complied with their demands of trying to make him a public enemy. The harm that had come to all three of the children that day was on Inferni's hands. "Fair enough," he intoned, skipping the first part of the conversation. "It may take me a while to get through it all, I don't think I've ever told it to anyone here...how strange to think. Well..." His amber eyes suddenly lost focus, as he began to look back instead of outward...back to seven years ago. "I was born seven years ago, in a place much like the Great Frozen Plains you describe. Packlands were larger to support their packs, and the packs numbered fewer. Food was scarce, water was scarce, but rivalry was so great outside the barren lands that there was still competition, even for our meager resources, on the borders at least. For my family, too, only the alpha and alphess were permitted to mate, so I was the son of our leaders, along with my siblings, Skirnir and SnowOwl, my brother and sister, respectively. Our pack was called StoneTree, named after the man who had pioneered that forsaken part of the world over two decades ago, who had learned the ways of the frozen wastes, learned to eek out a life from the cold and hard earth, and taught a pack to do the same. There were only nine of us: my two siblings and I, my father Freyr and my mother SkyDance, the Beta wolf Balder, my aunts NightStar and DarkCloud, and the youngest of the adults, who I recall being called only by his color, Gray." He paused a moment, his eyes seeing something far away both in space and time. His expression was sad...with the very faintest hint of a smile. "My father was the best fighter in the pack, it was how he had assumed leadership when he'd first arrived. Still, it wasn't his reputation that kept our pack safe, but the reputation of something called HawkWind's gift. Back in the time of StoneTree, a pup had been admitted into the pack, his mother found dead of cold. He was named HawkWind, after the two-part naming tradition of StoneTree, who had adopted him, since he was too young to remember the one his mother had given him. HawkWind was not the strongest wolf in his pack, but he was the fiercest. He was a mild-mannered and well-liked wolf, but when he was engaged in battle, or having trouble bringing down a kill, he would descend into a rage which StoneTree could not explain, save that it must have come from one of his birth parents. That unnatural blood rage didn't stop with him, but took root in his progeny, and popped up several times in his lineage." "My mother was descended from that line, and even though Freyr was the best fighter, it was the legendary ferocity of my mother and her sisters that kept potential adversaries from our doorstep. I never saw it, but I was told the story of the first fight of the pack under my father's leadership. Freyr defeated the rival leader, a proof of his abilities, but every direct descendant of of HawkWind killed her foe. They weren't vicious people, my mother and her sisters, but they became very different in the heat of battle. My father told me that he was proud of her gift, but that he is glad that my siblings and I hadn't seen her that day." He paused for a moment. "Forgive me, I am dwelling on unimportant details...I don't tell the tale often, and it feels nice to visit the past at times." He took a deep breath before continuing. "As I said, our territory was a poor one, it provided scant few resources, despite our need. I was born during the summer, but my parents were concerned for the winter. We all survived it, which was...well, a blessing and a problem. You see, three additions to the pack were too great. My father and his Beta knew this. Our food would not hold with a 50% increase to our numbers. It had happened several times before in my pack's history, where members needed to leave for the betterment of the pack. I'm sure sending away one of the adults was considered, but probably thought better of eventually. Balder was my father's best friend, and his mind was too good to let go of; my mother was very close to her sisters, and knew that if they were separated, they were likely to be killed by old enemies; Gray was the best hunter alongside NightStar, neither of them could be cast out. I didn't hear about any of this from my family, but pieced it together over the years." He was silent for a moment. "That was why, come the the next summer, when we were all a year old, it was decided that I was to be cast out. I was physically stronger than Skirnir, and SnowOwl as well. It was...a troubling experience. My father and mother stopped looking me in the eyes, just a little while later Balder began doing the same. Soon no adult would speak to me, and so I withdrew from them, spending all my time around my best friend and brother, Skirnir. He was my last hold on society, but one day, my parents took him aside as well, and convinced him not to speak to me either. I could see the pity in his eyes, and it maddened me. It infuriated me, the betrayal!" He practically spat the last word, swelling up in forgotten anger, but then calmed down again. "I attacked my brother for that. Just, launched myself at him. Our father had taught us to fight, and I had always been better at it than he was. He yelped, and Balder and my father came rushing up. They attacked me like they would attack an intruder. I still have a scar on the back of my neck where my father's teeth first drew my blood...I probably have a few others that never healed that I've forgotten about. I fled, and never looked upon those lands again." ~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.

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