During the day, sentries guard the sleeping. When the sky is dark and the moon dances with the stars, this is when the real fun begins. Munashii Gekko's forest is the only haunt where you can find your local misfits all in one place. A land of the forbidden and forgotten, a place that is riddled with dangers of a whole different kind. The wolves here have long misplaced their rightful minds, and now live like creatures damned to prowl and lurk through the night. It's easy to lose yourself here, sanity was sure to fade away and wither; there was never anything normal about this nefarious nest. The silent threats that whispered in the breeze were enough to deter even the largest of demons around. It was not strength nor wit that ensured your survival here with Eric, and challengers would be torn down with a morose lethality - there was nothing left in his cold blue eyes that promised mercy to anyone who dared to overstep their worth. So, would you give up the sun for the moon and stars? Do you have enough vigor to become a well regarded sentry? - Put on a game face to step up and pass the sepia king's test or turn and leave before he catches your scent. You never know who wants to snack on your delicious blood in this forest.

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The alpha was different than I had imagined he would be, he was not as dark as the night around him but light, like the sky I had not seen in many years. I leaped to my pads at his command, curiosity building with each passing moment. I allowed a deep chuckle at his comment about his lifestyle, knowing fully well that it was a little more than unusual. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the air that seemed to flood from them the second I caught wind of the blood.

"Unusual indeed, sir," I grinned, my voice stronger than my howl, addressing the alpha as 'sir' because he was probably stronger than I was and he was most certainly more respected than I. Mother always said that I should be nice to my superiors, especially on their land, "and yes, I'm anything but usual myself."

I kept noticing the differences between the ivory king and I, mainly that he didn't seem to be nearly as thin as myself. It could just be a flaw in my metabolism, but he seemed so much less hungry than I was. No matter our differences, we had to be part of the same breed. The scent of blood was far too strong to be just an accident. I cocked my skull, fixing Eric with my calculated stare. He moved like a shadow compared to my stumbling gait that seemed to scare the living hell out of anyone I encountered. His pelt was a singular colour, whereas mine was cream smeared with chocolate with no real pattern or sense to it. He could’ve been a model, and I could’ve been a rejected prop from a horror. I hated feeling inadequate – usually when someone made me feel insecure I ate them, but of course I couldn’t do that here, seeing as this was his lair and not my own.

"My name is Zombie. I think you're quite like me, if you don't mind me saying so, sir. Same taste in meals. I've never met anyone who shared that particular... mannerism, is that the word? Are there more like me here?"

I hated to sound like a lost pup, but my poignant plight to discover my tastes and characteristics had always been one I'd suffered through alone. If there were wolves here like myself then I needed to speak to them, and learn all I could, like an adopted pup finding it's genetic mother and father; it would be full of questions. Why was I this way? Would I ever be 'normal'? Was it a choice or was I really one of those creatures of legend? I could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage, pumping blood and adrenaline around my haggard frame. I hadn't expected to find a pack tonight - or any other night for that matter. I'd go back to my den and say a final farewell but all that was there were insects and bones and I really doubted the spiders would wonder where I'd gone. I was hardly their friend; I was just that cadaverous canine that brought food home occasionally. I was a loner, but not by choice.


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