Alpine

a preface or whatever

Most cannot remember when it began. A harsh word? A shove a bit harder than normal but you were arguing and he was sorry? It always seemed to sneak up on the victims until they found themselves trapped or at least hopelessly committed. In the human world of course.

For humans it was all about equality. Any social justice warrior or John Doe on the street could confirm that: all men are created equal, blah blah blah. Call me cynical but I didn't understand what all the fuss was about. They could pretend things were different and include minorities as a way to quell their own guilt but things would be the same. The blatant racism was gone: no more whites only. It was so much clearer then however. Now it seemed it exposed itself in explosive ways. A dictatorial leader taking power, police brutality, children lynching each other...

But none of it truly mattered for us. The Us hidden in gated communities in the mountains or wastelands. Mapless location where we existed freely. The rise in human populations had stressed our species and we were forced to adapt. Long gone were the days of running freely through the woods. Now there were bike paths and camp grounds; wildlife conservations where dwindling animal species tried to survive. Humans were brutal. They tore down anything in their way: organic or otherwise.

What remained were a couple dozen wolf packs throughout the globe. Any attempts at merging were challenged by our basic evolution: there could be only one Alpha. So the packs scuffled and fought quietly, unwilling to draw the eyes of the most dangerous predators. Numbers were limited and there was a drop out in female numbers and an increase in Omegas. Eventually those evened back out and they became bargaining chips. A way to tie packs together and quell any unrest over the stifling border situation. Inequality was all our community was: a hierarchy happily embraced by a culture that loved it.

And so did I. I had no problem with being at the absolute lowest rank. It had its moments of course where I looked at those above me with envy but our kind were naturally docile. It was far easier to obey than fight our natural instincts and try to dominate. It was much easier to just obey. Growing up on the Tundra was challenging back in the day, according to my grandparents. But now we had heat, insulated homes, and grocery stores. Long gone were days of scouting the flat land for prey. Now you just had to stalk to the nearest grocery store and pick out a meal that suited you. We had it too easy of course in their opinion but why would you wish others to be challenged?

I was the youngest of three. We grew up in the typical household—typical for our kind of course. Our father was a laborer. He poured concrete for long hours regardless of weather and nearly always returned home with a smile on his face for his kids and his mate. His mate, my mother, was a kind woman who labored domestically. She cooked and cleaned tirelessly as well as raising three children and training one—that would be me.

You know the phrase: two and a half kids? That stemmed from us. Omegas never fully counted because we weren't exactly useful in the tradition sense. We weren't even worth a full tax deduction: hence the half. It sounds harsher than it truly was though. My childhood was normal in all respects. I had my classes from eight to noon before I returned home to help my mother. Hours had to be logged of course and signed off by your parent.

And then once you graduated the instructor presented you with your seal: Silver or Gold. It had a lot to do with who your parents were according to Parker, my best friend. If they were good friends with the instructor's mate or Elites you'd definitely get a Gold seal.

It was a double edged sword however. From there it was decided if you would find a mate in the Pack or if you would be shuffled out to a stranger as a way to strengthenthe bonds between the Packs. When our day came I was pleasantly surprised to see both my parents had to come watch. Even my father was there, work pants caked in dried cement winked at me from his seat in back.