Scentless

WHITE WOLF

"It was then that I stopped caring about whoever said whatever. I just lived my life the way I wanted, the way I believed." – Never mind – BTS

Crunch.

Yoongi's ears twitch in the direction of the sound. He hunkers down, using the dusting of snow as camouflage for his pure white pelt. Perfectly still, he waits.

Crunch.

There! Crystal blue eyes watch the doe, taking limping steps across the open field, nervously searching for food under the white powder, the result of what was likely the last spring snow. Her herd has long since moved on without her, leaving her vulnerable and the perfect target for the lone white wolf. He tracks her movements as he slinks closer, belly fur barely an inch above the frozen ground. He pauses every time her head raises, her ears twitching as she watches for danger. She doesn't spot him. He's too careful, his body too well trained.

He moves within range, careful to stay downwind, waiting for the perfect moment. The second her nose touches the snow he leaps into action. She scrambles, her hooves tangling as she tries to dart away from him, but she's too late and her injury too much of a handicap. In seconds, he reaches her, biting at her flank, causing her to stumble to the ground. The moment she's down, he lunges for her throat, granting her as swift a death he can manage as hot, metallic blood floods his mouth.

With labored breaths, he drags the doe's body back through the trees and to a nearby cave. He shifts into his human form, donning a warm fur cloak and stoking up a fire with practiced ease. By the light of the flames, he pulls out a long knife, setting about his work and cleaning his kill. In wolf form he could eat the beast raw, and he had done so on many occasions when his stomach was so painfully empty that waiting even a moment longer to eat seemed like torture. But he had made a kill only a few days before, having picked a fawn out of the herd the injured doe had belonged to, so he takes his time cooking some of the meat and preserving it as best he can. He packs the rest of it up and chills it, packing it with as much snow as he can gather. It would likely melt tomorrow, but he'd take the extra meat and hide into the nearby village to trade for supplies before moving on to his next location.

For six years, he'd lived like this. Six years a lone wolf, never staying in one place longer than a week for fear the pack would find him. In those six years, he'd built a reputation. It was strange, hearing tales of yourself being told across the land.

Omegas warned their pups not to wander out too late at night, lest the giant white wolf of the north gobble them up. Alphas told stories whilst on patrol of the white wraith, a demon who had killed his own pack alpha and was said to similarly punish those he found guilty of heinous crimes. Yoongi ignored both. He was not a demon, and he was not interested in killing pups or doling out justice.

Like most tall tales, there were kernels of truth to his. It was true he killed to survive. Whether that meant prey or wolves who thought they had a right to what was his, he didn't differentiate. And it was true he had killed his pack alpha. But he didn't remember it. He'd been too consumed by the pain of his first shift. And he hadn't known at the time that the giant man holding him down, forcing him to watch his age mate die, was the head alpha of his pack. He'd only realized what he'd done when he'd woken covered in blood, the bodies of three alphas at his paws. He'd been unable to shift back into human form, even as a patrol of alphas had found him and sounded the alarm.

They didn't know who he was at the time, but he was sure they put two and two together when he didn't return to his dorms that night. For hours he'd run, putting as much distance between him and his entire world as he could before he collapsed, paws bloodied and torn, miles from the only home he'd ever known.