I am nothing more than a shadow that darkens the murky swamp of my home. This was to be my place to stay even though the urge to leave is strong. My Mother was always a reclusive creature and it is no surprise that I would be like her in this way. I barely know my Father’s pack. In this place being a part of a pack was slightly a joke. No one really helped the other. In these lands you had to be independent and save yourself. This I have done well so far and I will continue to keep it that way. After all, if I failed I would be dead. Mother had taught me well in the short months she had stayed here. As promised to my Alpha, Mother left on the last day of Summer, leaving me under the protection of the pack. For some reason Mother and Andras had a deal. That as a child of Iromar from the lowly Servitor, I was to remain. It would seem bodies rather than individual strength was far more important to the Demon King and I had no say. I haven’t seen either of my parents for almost an entire year. While I traveled throughout the lands and ventured into different packs I tried to seek her out. Her scent has faded and I haven’t been able to pick her trail up…yet. But I am sure once I do she wouldn’t mind having me at her side again, at least, I hope she wouldn’t mind. I have remained in the murky swamp after my travels and keeping to myself. I want to venture out again, but for now I need to stay here…I just…need to.

Lying on top of a rock within the dark bog, between my bloody stained paws lay a muskrat. It is rather a tasty treat once I can get past the bog crap on its fur. My bloodstained muzzle rips easily through the muscle and flesh, devouring the strips of meat I can find. I am quite content here on my perch, my bright amethyst eyes flecked with the icy blue of my Father, the only thing that claimed me as his own, would shift from my prey to the swamp ahead of me. For such a bland place it was also peaceful. I am almost three years old and there is much that I need to learn and understand. My jeweled specs notice a figure rising and falling within the swamp and I cannot help but tilt my head to the side, so very curious as to what it is. When I move to stand on top of the rock I notice white familiar looking ears, and the scent came to me by wind screamed it was a wolf. My façade shifts from curiosity to a stony expression as I leap off my rock. I am light and quick, moving as silently as I could, knowing that if I moved fast I wouldn’t get pulled in. Coming towards the white wolf I tilt my head to the side again watching as he seems to get sunk into the swamp is pristine coat stained. I simply stare at him. The back of my mind moving telling me I am supposed to howl, that I am supposed to warn others of an intruder, but I cannot bring myself to do it. Why I simply do not know. Finding what few solid ground there could be in the swamp I move to the side, carefully, still watching the male. My appearance does not seem threatening yet I am still tense. Seeing as he was coming across the deeper part of the swamp, he would fall in and the bog would suck him down past his chest and near his head, should he continue. Softly I speak, my voice still hoarse, as I try to offer him some assistance.

“You might want to move to your left…you will find firmer footing, continue going straight and the swamp will suck you in farther.”