The Wolf with a Red Scarf

Chapter 2

   - Five Years Later

        Settling his bare feet into the dirt, Wexler steadied his stance. Taking a whiff, he could taste the anticipation surrounding him. The roaring cheers blocked out by his senses honing in to his opponent. Hearing the pounding of paws approaching, he braced for the impact.

        Snarling with rage, his opponent leapt for the red fabric around his neck. But Wexler effortlessly dodged. Before zipping around the five foot beast, and tackling it's back.

        After securing a hold, he elongated his claws to viciously slash down his opponents back. A final, but not fatal, blow to this battle.

        The cheers increased to this action, as the arena of people surrounding this event burst with excitement. He could hear the children hollering. Their parents chanting encouragement. Even the elderly whistled in praise.

                        But Wexler felt differently about the matter.

        He felt that the fight was too easy, ended too quickly. A boring exchange, not even worth his time. He wanted a real opponent. One he could unleash his anger on.

        It had been five years since he left to find his mate. He searched for a year, following small leads, but eventually came home. Leading him to grow bitter and detached.

        Growing angrier the further he stepped away from the crowd, Wexler instinctively gripped towards a familiar scarf around his neck. To his disappointment, his mate's scent and magic dissipated long ago, but he still utilized the soft fabric to relax him.

        It had become somewhat of a trademark, over these few years. Regardless of the season or weather, he wore this fabric to its intended purpose at all times. It was a rarity to see him without it, even in wolf form.

        Some thought it was strange. Others understood. But not many really associated with Wexler unless necessary, so it wasn't much of a concern.

        After returning without his mate, he grew distant. Outraged without even the solace of the individual made for him. He felt as if the world was tormenting him. Dangling a bit of hope before his nose, then snatching it away. This, in turn, led him to raise his guard. Shutting mostly everyone out from his life.

                                        All he could scare away that is.

        "Great fight, as always!" The Alpha's eldest, Cassius, congratulated. Patting him on the back, Wexler had to silence his growl from the superiority.

        Robyn was still the active Alpha at the moment, but Cassius being his son was enough reason for Wexler to still tolerate him. When they were younger, the two were actually pretty close friends. But, to Wexler, their relationship had now dwindled down to obligation.       

        "You really need to show Grant some of your moves. His combat skills mainly fall in wolf form." Cassius encouraged, speaking of their future Beta.

        Being much younger, but technically equal to Wexler in rank, Grant was still very new to the training process of being Beta. The position was originally supposed to go to his older brother, Owen. With much promise towards him being the first of the next generation to be promoted. But he died a few months prior, leaving quite large paws for Grant to fill.

        Hearing the fearful boy trailing behind them as usual, Wexler let out a slight huff. He couldn't even entertain the thought of training such a weak excuse for a Beta. He couldn't blame the kid, knowing he was only doing what was expected of him. But that didn't mean he was going to waste his time on him.