I had hardly cared about the lives of those wandering off to kill demons. I hardly cared at all. I only lingered in the silky shadows to see the aftermath. I only wanted to hear with my very own ears that there is a dead, rotting corpse of a wolf near by so I could investigate. Sadly, English is a language that largely alludes me. Mother does not speak it to us. She says it is a vile language, a sinful one that the lesser and weaker use. I have just not taken any interest into it until recently, when I met that Melek girl. Apparently, many others speak this language. I find it to be a disadvantage in many ways, not to know what they are saying. I am slowly picking up on it, but not as my brother and sister have. I do not dwell around commoners often, not out of any particular hatred for them, I have just only recently had any sort of interest.

I do not keep track of my brother at all. I know he will be fine out there. If he needs me, he will let me know. Ayal is my queen. Ayal is my goddess. I am her wing, the one that makes sure to follow her in the shadows when she thinks she is alone. Mother adores Ayal. Ayal is as she is. She says I am as my Father is. Eden, is as both of them are. We do not know who my Father is, but I have heard whispers even in Latin about me. My siblings seem to care less about this Father issue, but I do not like information being withheld from me.

I often stalk others when they do not notice. I watch them from afar. I have seen that many puppies look like a combination of their parents. Some look very similar to one particular parent. One does not have to be told how it all works to understand their own observations. I do not know exactly how puppies happen, but I know that two are involved. My stalking usually goes unnoticed, despite my brilliant white pelt. At least, I think it is. Today, I stalk my sister. Ayal thought I wasn't looking or was around when she went off, but I was. My violet and orange eyes are always watching. I cannot seem to pull them from her perfect dark form often. It is my unsaid job to protect her from anything that may harm her, for Mother would wish it. Mother would want Ayal protected over all, and yet Mother would want Ayal to exert her skill the most. It is complicated really, but if Ayal knows it or not, for now I am almost completely at her disposal...until my urges to do exactly what I please kick in. Yet, who knows when that will occur.

My stark white paws blend with the light covering of snow on the ground. I find this is the season when I will shine. The snow is a part of me. I can use it to cover my form and blend with the world around me. It will be a good tool for when I wish to surprise my future kills. I am as quite as I can be, following my Ayal from a rather large distance. I hand by the trees and foliage, keeping my form behind whatever can cover me from prying eyes. I find myself rarely tearing my eyes from Ayal, letting my violets rest on her like pillows in the heavens. I watch as she comes across the war party, her mouth opening the taste the air that touches their wounds. I have ripped apart many small creatures already in my young life, and I do wish to see more. I feel an excitement inside my very being as I see blood covering many of the wolves coming back. I cannot help my ears perking and my eyes dilating in a sick joy. I almost find myself running out to inspect them myself, when I realize Ayal got out of my sights. I growl slightly, continuing on until I spot her heading towards...Mother and Eden.

I keep my white form low to the ground as I keep them in my sights. I blend much easier with the white of the snow, and I am content to lay and watch them from the shadows of a tree. It isn't until the form of another approaches that I feel a need to come forward. He is a white figure, pure white with eyes of violet. Eyes like mine. I feel a tension rise in my gut as I view him. I feel a churning around as my mind ticks away like when I watch other puppies with their parents. I have seen no other wolf that looks like me. Not one. He is the only one, and I had already made...assumptions in my young mind. Mother said she would not tell who my Father was until he died, and I suppose there is only one way to really find out.

I then push my heavenly form upwards, snow gently sticking to parts of my puppy pelt as I stride forward. I do not know it, but my stride is already shaping up to look like my Father's. I have great confidence in myself as I approach, and yet I do not hold an aggressive or foreboding stance. I do not stop until I am a few feet from Heyel. I circle to where his face is in my vision, and I sit with my tail curling around my paws. It is then that I proceed to stare at him. My violet eyes, streaked with a vibrant orange, examine every little piece of this white wolf before me. I take him in like I did Mother's milk when I was younger. I stare with no sign of breaking anytime soon, with much time passing as I do so. Only the tip of my tail slowly lifts and falls against the ground, not in a friendly wag but in contemplation. After my long moment of silence, I speak, and I care not if anyone else is speaking or what have you. I speak and he will listen, or I will...stare at him to death.

"Scio."
(I know.)

I say my words so confidently, so boldly as I let a small moment of silence happen once more.

"Morietur."
(Die.)

I say as my eyes narrow at him. If he chooses to die, then Mother will tell me if was my Father. My logic is simple, and now I just have to see if this male will, well, die as I said. I doubt he will be so willing, as no one usually is. My ridiculously handsome face will continue to stare at Heyel, my face much like my Mother's lacking any real emotion in this moment. I am not as she is though. I am Anselm, and I will know the truth.