The brute’s life had recently been turned around. He still did not understand how he was alive, how his brother had actually survived. Flashbacks of the war ran through his head, the war that changed him. The large brute had been raised to a loyal and just ruler, just like his father. To always do what was right and to be there for those in his pack, to be a friend to them. To be there for those that were weak and frightened, to help those in need and protect those that were hunted. But then he had witnessed his father and mother savagely murdered in front of him. He had been a teen then, not even fully grown, and he had watched the cruel lupines of their enemy come in, storm in really, and massacre the entire pack that he had grown up. Grey Wind’s father had been in the heat of the battle, protecting Grey Wind’s mother and younger pups. But they were greatly outnumbered, too outnumbered to do anything. The brute had been too mortified to do anything, had been useless and helpless to protect his father or anyone else.

Nightmares still plagued the male, but he made sure to keep that hidden from everyone. He did not need the lupines of Abendrot to think he was weak and frightened by mere dreams. But sometimes he could not fight them. The images of his father’s life being taken, of his mother’s throat torn out and left to bleed at the paws of her pups. When he saw his mother get killed something in the large grey brute snapped. He was a killing machine then, tearing through any living thing that was in front of him, not noticing if it was one of his own or one of the enemy. The thick, coppery taste of blood filling his gullet, encouraging to continue destroying anything that was nearby. He had never felt a bloodlust as strong as that night.

And it was in this state that the varg had come to Abendrot and had met Kershov. Now Grey Wind would kill any being at a single command by his alpha, would do whatever the brute asked of him, whether it was wrong or right. The teachings of his father were long forgotten, erased from his mind when he lost his family and everything that he had loved. A snarl escaped from the brute as he padded through the trees thinking about what had happened to his family and what he had been forced to witness. The brute thought that every one of his family members had been killed that day. But when Kershov and himself had gone on a mission to Bright Moon, he found out his brother Summer was the alpha. The freaking alpha! How could he not know that? How had he been in Blossom for so long and not know that his brother was alive, and becoming an alpha too. The brute had no idea what this meant for him now, and what Ker was going to think of his brother being the alpha of their enemy pack. And when he was honest with himself it frightened him, but he would never admit something like that. Nothing should frighten the practiced warrior.

And so the brute did one of the only things that he did whenever he was upset, patrolled the borders, hoping to run into someone useless to take his anger out on. Grey Wind’s yellow orbs barely saw the trees in front of him, barely saw the grass that he was padding on, barely noticed anything. But a scent reached his nares, one that was in a way familiar, deep underneath, but one that was foreign to him. Someone at the borders. The brute only hoped that whoever it was knew what they were getting into by coming to Abendrot, and not some useless pack like Bright Moon. What he did not expect to see when his stilts took him to the spot where a stranger was, was to see one varg on the ground, seemingly lifeless, and the form of another standing over her.

The pretty female lay motionless in the dirt. The only thing that gave away the fact that she was alive was the steady breaths that lifted from her side, otherwise Grey Wind would of assumed otherwise. The darkly colored brute stood over her, as if protecting her. But why would he bring her to Abendrot if he was just going to assume someone would hurt her? This was not the pack to bring a helpless being to that needed healing or something like that. Abendrot’s reputation was well known, and Grey Wind could only assume that the brute knew of Kershov and the type of lupines that resided within. And so maybe he had brought this femme to Abendrot on purpose, as an offering to the alpha perhaps. If that was the case then the large grey brute was impressed, but he would not show that to the male in front of him.

Grey Wind paused at the borders, examining the brute and the unconscious female before her, not caring about what he must have done to her to bring her here. He quickly introduced himself, plume held respectably to show the status that he held. ”Grey Wind. Head Soldier of Abendrot. State your name and business here, and explain this female while you’re at it.” His yellow orbs stared the other brute down, daring him to either run or tell him what he demanded. It was clear that this brute could be a threat to the pack, but he was still going with the assumption that he was bringing an offering to Kershov.