And so, whenever I could, I'd sneak out. Sometimes it'd be right under her nose, and other times it would be without any reason for precaution. How I did it doesn't matter, though. The point is that I did. I would go and contemplate how to snap the bitch out of her insane state of being. I'd hunt more than frequently, and was proud of myself as I took down a young buck, once. I was exceptionally proud, actually. I even brought it back to mother, but she was too busy scolding me and bringing my spirits down about my 'disobediance' to appreciate it. It hurt, to be honest. . .

And then one time, when I was about ten months old, I snuck out again. It was midnight . . . the sky was so clear and dark. I could taste the water in the crisp, cool air. The stars were shining brightly, as if in competition to each other. Do you think they really do that? Maybe. . . But, soon enough, thunderous rain clouds covered the sky. Rain drops bolted towards the earth as though it was their saving grace. Soaked and shivering, I walked endlessly to find somewhere suitable to rest. Not exactly know in which direction I had been travelling towards, I failed to recognize fierce scent marks along the trees and shrubs I passed. I blame the rain, even to this day. And there I was. Just trying so desperately to rest. And they came. Those three vicious brutes. I'd never seen anything like them, before. They were like wolves. . . but so much bigger and stronger. Their eyes were glowing with a ferocity that I'd never seen before. Keeping close to the shadows, I rolled on my belly. What? Well because my belly is dark, dammit! I had some common sense then, you know. And it worked, believe it or not. The rain masked my scent, and the shade covered my dark body.

But, that dame was so stupid. She wandered in through the shrubs, her pale grey pelt standing out like a sun. In an instant, I was blank on the face. Rabid snarling and growls echoed in my ears. There were barks, some of rage and others of fear and pain. At the time, I couldn't tell whose was whose. But soon enough, those brutish creatures carried on. I could only watched as my mother's mangled body was left there. Lifeless. Bleeding. I only stared. I didn't even move once the creatures were past the scent range of rain. I watched as her blood mixed with the rainwater. My eyes wide. And it was then I saw what really came from that. Freedom. I took advantage and fled. I'm not sure whether or not I regret the death of my mother. But it was her fault, was it not? Perhaps. . . . Hmmmm. . .

After that, I travelled. I ran across one of those beasts again after a few months. But this time I didn't cower. And nor did I hide. And stood my ground, defending myself. I wasn't going to stand aside for a brute. But this time, the creature didn't fight. He didn't growl, nor charge. He just stood there. Staring. Stern eyes. He was challenging me. I knew it. With a swift charge, I launched my attack. I could feel my blood puming through my ears. I could hear it. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump. . .
Damn bastard had it planned out. His brute of a body needed only to react at the last second to pin me down. Massive weight, mostly muscles, kept me nailed between his figure and the cold, wet ground. A desperate bark escaped my jaws. I took a quick look into his rabid eyes. There seemed to be no control. Was he mad? Most likely. I snarled, I growled, I bit, I kicked. I did everything in my defense to knock him off of me. But he wouldn't budge, barely even grunting from pain at my efforts. He was humiliating me. He forced more weight onto me, nearly choking me. And then he snapped his head towards my shoulder. And that was it.

His fangs sunk into my flesh, piercing my skin without a moment's hesitation. I howled and yelped from the pain, the excruciating pain. But this creature was only amused, and bit down harder. I could feel my blood seeping down my fur and into the ground. I reacted on strong instincts, jerking my head forwards and clamping my jaws onto the side of his neck. I clenched my maw down as tightly as it would. The beast yowled, and let go of my shoulder. But not for more than a second. His claws raked along my side, slicing my hide open in a swift motion. Snarls intesified, from both me and him. In the brief second that I took the time to yelp in disdain, he jerked his head away, breaking my grip on him. Dammit. . .His jaws grabbed the back of my nape. I could feel the warmth from his throat, his mouth, radiate on my open wounds as he tore me apart. My growling weakened, and I felt myself becoming weaker. Thoughts of death drifted through my mind. I cast one last glance at my attacker, who was still knawing on my back. A snappy howl ripped through the air, and it couldn't have come any sooner. The beast snarled as he backed off of me, sprinting with an elegant speed into the trees. Gone. Good riddance. I didn't bother getting up. I couldn't. I just lay there, resting until I could gather up enough strength to actually get somewhere. My growling returned, as if an attempt to ward off anyone who thought I was easy pickings. Some damn creature would try, now wouldn't they?

I hadn't noticed what had been going on around me, during the fight. I had been too preoccupied fighting off the beast to realize what I had landed in. An acrid scent singed my nostrils, now that the distinct scent of the creature was gone. Groaning, I leaned my head over to my other side, seeing what it was. The strikes of hot, desperate pain flew up the side of my neck, and down my spine. He had done a real number on me. But my eyes were fixed on the new subject, intent on distracting myself. An odd liquid. In a puddle, the product of a stream that flowed from a nearby human chemical-testing facility. Vacant now, no doubt. Why the ehll would they have built one out there? No one lives there, it would've been tought to get to. Even the trail that ran through the forest from their desctruction wasn't stable, nor smooth. This area always made anyone with a sense of smell cringe. No one ever wanted to come near here. The strangest things went on in that solid concrete building. Not even a building. About fifteen feet high. A box . . . twenty feet by twenty-four feet, about. Some animals went in there, and never came out. A death trap. And here was a product of death.

A thick, foggy substance. Disgusting. I could feel the crap on my back. I cold feel my fur beginning to group together as the sludge held it like liquid glue. Sure enough, whatever the hell that crap was, it had gotten on me. Mostly on the top of my head, my back, and most of my tail. I grumbled under my breath, annoyed. It didn't burn, nor tear anything apart. Was it neutralized? That was the explination I gave myself. That liquid had been subject to countless rainstorms and exposure, and no treatment from those bald humans. So many thoughts raced through my mind, that night. I thought and thought, and the subjects never mattered. I needed something to think about, to keep my head busy so that it couldn't decipher the pain. I could feel the cool air on my open wounds. My right side. . . my neck. . . my shoulder. . . And I thought until I couldn't anymore. Not consciously, at least. I slept through the next day, not on purpose, but it happened.

Within a few days, I had recovered enough to be able to walk steadily enough. That liquid hadn't dried by the time I had raised myself from my deathbed. It felt so heavy on me, so annoying. My tail was covered in it, my back was coated with a decent layer. And it had even seaped down to my the roof of my muzzle from the top of my head. Perhaps I should have rested my head on top of something, to defy the gravity. As I stood up, then, my paws were coated with it. I shook them off individually,, stepping away from the white mixture. Even as I stumbled away from the site, I could feel the weight of the garbage on my back. On my tail. I didn't dare lick it off. Instead, I shook my pelt good and hard, sending the goop flying. It was so thick that it had slung around back, cling again to my pelt, but in small streaks now. I recieved my current pelt then. The 'spider', as some mock me. It took me several weeks to completely heal from those wounds. And still, I have a scar inbetween my shoulder blades. I thank my thick pelt for covering it up, but I can still feel it. It's irritating.

That crap eventually shaded my beautiful black pelt into a creamy color. Now I'm plagued with this white design that reminds me of that night. That night I became one of them. Within the next two weeks, I realized I was starting to change. Wierd sensations throughout my body. New instincts. It was different, and I didn't know what it was. But, only a little more than a few weeks after the attack, it happened. My spine tingled, and I growled ferociously. I felt my body stretching, the muscles working. But I hadn't realized what I'd done until afterwards. I was horrified. Shocked. Almost stunned into silence.
And now I am one of the Luperci Verto. . ."