Yes, well behaved children rarely do make history. That is not why I had come to Spirane today nor was it ever my intention to make any type of history with myself or my name. I was simply following what darkness within drove me to do. Since the double-crossing upon my brother Ilias, initiated by myself and Kairos, there had been a shift within my psyche. Despite what previous loyalty had been lain with my brother there was now a burning hunger that sent my mind into overdrive. It was the adrenaline, the possibility of leaving blood scattered across the landscape, whether it be mine or theirs. It was the helpless pleas and begging that ended in only accelerating the process. Kairos had created a monster.

By summer’s beginning I was already half of my adult size and while older wolves would not bat an eye at me now, I am still a colossal puppy at twenty inches high and ninety-four pounds strong. Hell, I am even larger than some of the smallest canines in Moladion already. Just wait until I reach my full potential.

The hour is hot and bright, my raven black fur now fading to an off-black hue as day after day in the sun steals my darkness from me. I roam across the foothills of the mountain, my interest lying in getting a cool drink from the river that borders it until the sharp yips of a younger whelp pierce the air. Unfortunately for the child her barks were cascaded down the mountainside and into my waiting ears, causing me to stiffen up and turn to look upon the face of the stony giant. Something clicks within that broken psyche of mine and with a feral intensity I am jogging quickly up the hillsides.

As I drew closer in to the outlying areas of the territory the heavy scent of other wolves was laid thickly upon the border. I knew not of packs or alphas, social etiquettes and laws, I only pause for a moment to huff at the stench before crossing over and closing in upon my quarry. It is within the shade of the trees and foliage that I find my stealth as I am now away from the golden rays of sun that seem to spotlight my approach. My strides shorten as I slow down within my cover and the mountainous winds bring not one but two juvenile scents toward my flared nostrils. I inhale deeply as amaranthine eyes of amethyst close for a long moment.

Black eyelids slowly lift open to spy upon the young girls once again, one standing proudly and the other approaching as her high-pitched voice addresses the first. Darkened auds pin back upon my skull as I snort and shake my head. Her incessant garbling is just as painful as taking a bite to the flank and it only feeds my desire ever more to silence them both. Without further waiting I advance upon them from the trees, my thick figure rustling the branches as I went, but I was not here to take them out with a soundless assault.

Large paws pick me back up into a swift jog before advancing into a run as I direct myself toward them with a deadened expression. I am no actor, I do not try to play my victims before I take them out, there is only one way to hunt and it is the natural way. As I barrel inward toward the brindle legged girl I aim to first knock her down with sheer force and momentum, my eyes remaining on target and following each step she may take to avoid the collision. I keep myself in check with her position, no matter if she had averted the blow, and never let her out of my sight. Sharpened knives of bone reveal themselves as my jaws seek to find her muzzle and bite down upon it, dominance in its purest form, and to cease her infuriating barking.

But she is not my only victim this day and those beautifully savage eyes turn upon her friend as I release my attention upon the brindled girl. A few strides carry me toward her with demonic intent in each twitching muscle as I lunge downward to clasp my jaws upon the top of neck and to shake violently.

Greatness begets greatness for certain. But I am not my grandfather or my mother – I am more.