Life had only begun for the young, leucistic boy of barely even a day old and yet the clasp of corruption had already worked its figners around him. Or so these were the beliefs that his birth pack were to believe. The legend had been told and passed along for so many generations; that a child born of snow and tainted with a liver and black speckled nose would be the destruction of them all and their heinous ways. He was to be the reaper for their sins and they would not have such a creature exist. His mother, though deathly loyal to her culture, could not stand to see her son murdered for something that was not his own doing. He was so small, so innocent and she could not believe that he would be capable of bringing such judgement upon her people. And so she fled in the night to carry him farther and farther from his northern home as she found solace and comfort within the woodland that made up Moladion’s central region.

She was rather large, their lineage being bred for hunting the largest of prey animals in the northern mountain ranges, and so it was rather difficult for her silvery form to maneuver through the forest in the midst of twilight without going unseen. But she is capable of moving silently and quickly finds a small thicket that she feels her cursed son will be safe in and rests him easily upon the lush, moss covered earth. A moment passes as she watches him with little emotion and yet her heart is being torn to pieces as she starts to turn away to head back to her pack. Perhaps she has inevitably doomed them all by allowing him to live - but she would rather die at his jaws than allow her comrades to tear him limb from limb.

He should not be capable of knowing where it is that he comes from, by any chance. ”Goodbye, my Legion.” The words are whispered as she takes a final glance back at his squirming form beneath the tangle of bush and branch before taking off into the night and back to the north.

Night passes to daybreak and the boy does not sleep the remaining hours as the golden light of the sun now warms upon his frail body. He cries out loudly, shrill whimpers echoing within the hollow as he yearns for the warmth and milk of his mother. But she will not return - she is far from him now. The boy will never be able to know his true home and blood but perhaps it is better that way; for he would bring damnation upon them all.