without a care
#5
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He was the opposite. While he was a sensible boy, for the most part, he had a heavy dose of the dark bloodlust that followed the Lykois in their curse, and the insanity that was his father's. Whether Laruku could live with the wolves or not was of little concern to him. He simply went with what he'd been told by his mother and by Hybrid; wolves were the enemy. Coyotes among wolves were acceptable, for they still shared their blood, and hybrids were the best allies. They had the size and strength of a wolf with the speed and cunning of a coyote, and little did he know that deep inside, he too was a hybrid. He too would grow to an impressive size, and would be just as strong as they, but hungry for their blood and their flesh. He would develop, as he already was, into a menace.

No, he responded, sneering in his brother's direction for his general lack of knowledge. They 're th' en'mies. He paused here, waiting to let the silence stretch on, before continuing with the relaxed state of one who'd told this to others countless times, though that was not true. The cloud that hung over him was ominous, dark, and angry; it roiled and it writhed with the anger and insanity of his family and of his blood.

They 're stupi' an' they 're s'pos'ta taste li'e shit. He grinned wickedly, tail thrashing, as the words of Hybrid came back to him.

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