Usually when another attempts to enter my Mother’s den I get defensive. I give a warning low growl and then I attack. Yet he is my size. He and I are mostly alike and perhaps he is not a threat. We are both at an age where we are not threatening or intimidating. Yet that does not mean we cannot try to be. After all, it is for practice. When we do get older, I will be threatening and intimidating. This I know I will be, because I am my Mother’s daughter, and my Father’s Demonic blood will ensure that I be even more fearsome. As for what this brute shall be when he gets older, I am not so sure. For all I know I could be looking at the Omega that takes after my Father. My crimson trimmed ears twitched back and forth as I look at him, my intense amethyst eyes locking on him like a predator does with prey. As he shows his teeth, I cannot help but do the same. My dial held high, my tail raising high, my tail curled, the bottom half showing red, an ideal sign of warning. I am my Mother’s daughter and if needed I will fight and I will win. I listen to him speak, my lips covering my sharp white ivories. He will not attack so there is no reason why I should. As he introduces himself, I take heed without how he speaks of his lineage. Mother is not proud that I am from my Father, and from what I understand, my Father wants me to be better than him. So, I cleverly dodge the bullet. My soft cold tones flow easily out from my lips.

“My name is Raven.”

Short, sweet and to the point. That is how I am. I must always be quick and clever on my paws. Mother never gives out her name, but she tells me that I must with my own pack mates. For a wolf that loves to be alone, she knows a lot about packs. Yet I never was told why she does not like them. I notice how she walks, how she stands. Always she is looking intimidating, always she is looking strong, her head held high and her tail swaying back and forth in a lackadaisical manner. Yet when a pack wolf is nearby Mother remains standing tall and strong, with her head dropping only a centimeter. It is Mother’s way of respecting that she is in the lands of a pack, but she has never once bowed to another. Unlike Father…I see him all the time cowering or lowering himself on the ground. It is a disgusting site to see and I do not like it. I will not do the same. I will not be like him, an Omega. I will be strong like Mother. I will be the Demon my Father could never be. I will be the Monster that takes after my Mother’s legacy. As he makes a most obvious statement, I simply move my shoulders in a shrugging manner.

“My Mother is out hunting and I was sleeping. We were up late last night, because she was teaching me. I could go out and play with you, but I mustn’t stray too far from home…Mother will bring me food.”

Truly Mother had given her permission to wander around. She was getting much older and it wouldn’t be long before she was given the chance to start to eat meat. When Mother brought home meals, at first the meat didn’t smell so good, but now that she was getting older, it smelled delicious. Almost as delicious as the blood. Yet I think I can go around and play with him. I haven’t met any other puppy and I am sure I could learn a thing or two. Father says playing is good for me, so perhaps I will try. I tilt my head to the side noticing how he puffed up his chest. Odd. Did he have a breathing problem? If so, that is weakness, a weakness that will surely make him die. I move quietly past him, heading for the mouth of my cozy den, my need for sleep had forgotten. As I enter the sunlight, the crimson mark along my forehead, chest, shoulders, and legs seem to glisten a brighter shade of red, almost like blood. My dark amethyst eyes narrowed at him, if he was wanting to play then I will let him take the lead…for now.

“What game are you wanting to play?”