**In the process of receiving much needed editing**
Some wolves are born rogues but still maintain their human side while others are made into rogues, they lose all humanity and become feral.
Gaius has been taught to kill feral rogues on sight. The...
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There are many differences between feral rogues and normal ones. The most prominent being their eyes.
Regular rogues maintain the eye color they were born with, while feral rogues lose that eye color over time. Many stories and studies surrounded the abnormality, but most believed the rumor that the change is caused by the number of wolves they've killed; the more they've killed, the brighter shade of red their eyes were.
Another difference was size. Wolves attack each other-that's normal. What isn't normal is cannibalism. Even for rogues. Feral rogues, however, don't follow society's rules. To them, food is food. As a result, it is often said that they grow larger than most normal rogues.
Lastly, while it's possible to talk to an average rogue, ferals are a different story. They've fallen so far that no matter what you say to them, it won't get through. This is because of their lack of a human side; you can't reach them like a normal rogue.
As a child, I asked my father why this was the case. Why were there werewolves out there who couldn't be rescued? To this, his brows knotted together, his lips formed a disapproving frown, and his eyes filled with disgust. He told me that day that feral rogues are wolves who are cursed by the Moon Goddess. They were made from all her hatred and anger towards those who have hurt her and her supporters. Even she can't love them.
They were destined to be alone.
As I stared down at my mate, I couldn't help but question the factuality of that statement. If ferals were destined to live alone and have no mates, then why did the Moon Goddess gift me with one? Surely, there was a reason, right? Surely, the wolf had to have some humanity left within.
The wolf squirmed restlessly as it tried to break free from underneath me. I watched it for a few seconds before mentally letting out a sigh. I let out a growl, not to threaten the wolf, but to try and get it to calm down. Red eyes stared up at me and the wolf let out its own growl in response. For a second, it stopped squirming. I thought it may have potentially picked up on my warning, but a split second was all it took for the wolf to work up the strength and push me off of it.
Worry filled me and I hit the ground roughly. The wolf staggered to its feet and moved to take off, but before it could get the chance, I stretched out my leg in front of it, sending it down to the floor with a loud thunk.
I get up, but the wolf doesn't move. I walked around toward it and saw its eyes closed. Thankfully, I could still see the subtle rise and fall of its chest. Part of me felt guilty for what I just did, but I knew that the only way it would survive and be able to step a foot into the pack lands was if it was temporarily knocked out. Otherwise, it wouldn't even make it five feet into the pack grounds before Gray attacked.
I glanced at the white wolf, who lay on the ground, immobile. Had it not been for the partially open eyes, I would've assumed that it was dead.
"Gray," I called out through the pack's link. "I need your help at the northern border. There's two injured rogues."
