I'm used to being looked at with barely contained disgust, with disdain and the intent to kill. They wanted to kill me, erase me from the living, and all because I had an unnatural drive to fight. To learn different ways to fight and win, different ways to break someone to pieces, and I am a fast learner. I know lots of ways to bring an opponent down, how to put an end to a life in misery. It's a complete rush every time, everything fell into place at such moments, when you're fighting for your life, avoiding the snapping jaws of a killing blow, and the taste of metallic blood dripping from jaws, nothing could compare. See, unlike my goody two shoes brother I am entirely comprised of muscle. I am the definition of strength. Any wolf with a brain cell could see that, even a pup who knew almost nothing, they can all see.

I'll be the first one to admit that my inky black fur is not unique or attention garnering, maybe not even handsome in the least, but I sure as hell can blend in when I need to. tHIS FACT ALONE MAKES ME ABLE TO STRIKE FROM THE SHADOWS LIKE A WRAITH, or simply melt away and become one, whichever strikes my fancy at the time I suppose, you can never really tell which it is. Today I just managed to find someone who has flared my interest, and that really only happens once every few wolves I meet, so I guess it's not all to uncommon, but well, let's leave such trivial things be. I don''t know what role I'm slipping into anyways, sometimes I don't even know as I'm playing it, such a strange little quirk, but one that really can't be helped. Despite that I am no stranger to my own self and inner workings, I know exactly who I am, what I am capable of, and that only makes me stronger than those who do not.

My crimson eyes are watching her, watching and ever so slightly and subtly calculating, seeing just what I can read from this stranger. Then again I was a stranger to her as well, and she was doing more than an admirable job to refrain from leaping at me to rip my throat out. Despite this I still calculate, wondering if perhaps, she was just waiting for my guard to lower. My ears catch her responding words, and my tail gives a slight flick in it's own response to that.

I will not respond to those words, as it is not in my nature to answer something that is spoken like that and with those words. I am merely waiting for the right moment, the right moment to let my own voice be heard once more. i MAY BE THE HERETIC OF MY FAMILY BUT THAT DIDN'T MEAN i WAS LESS INTELLIGENT THAN THE LOT OF THEM, besides I liked to thin k myself smarter, after all I'm pretty sure I manipulated events that lured my brother here, and only time will see me take his blood as revenge. He may not be the one who had cast me from the pack but he was their most prized heir, and yet some part of me refused to even think about slaying my brother. It was like some part of me wanted to see him live and rise to the top of these new lands like the royalty he is. He had to become everything he deserved.

"Home was no longer an option. Unwelcome there I guess you could say. Called me a family heretic." My voice fluxes and wanes in it's smoothness at certain words. Heretic was said with the vaguest hints of anger, though this was perhaps allowed to slip free, after all sometimes letting things show isn't a bad thing. My brother would disagree, he believed that emotions were always to be covered up and hidden, tromped into the deepest dredges of one's soul, until it became very hard to dig them back out, and that was entirely the way they had wanted us to be. I come slightly closer as I am within these tainted thoughts, and let myself drop to my haunches, mind whirling and whispering in thoughts that forever damned me as an outsider.