I took a deep breath sighing I shook my head. It was night fall and the sun set still beamed a gloomy light over the forest, my paws left frozen paw steps in the snow, glittering like magic.
My black pelt was cast in shadows as I stared over my mountain home.
My mother used to tell me stories about wolves that lived up in the mountains, she said that there were ice wolf spirits who would descend from the sky at night, and leave at daybreak. I never believed her, of corse. My mother was dead.
The cold snow and icy rocks beneath my paws sent slight chills down my spine. I was limping as I walked, though I ignored it.
That scar was still there. If you lived in a pack down in the valley there were simple rules you had to follow.
1. Don't kill
2. Don't defy the alpha
3. The alpha cannot be kicked out of the pack
4. The alpha is aloud to mate with whoever he pleases
5. Being said, this means the alpha can cheat on his own mate if "nessasary" and "the packs numbers are dwindling low"
6. You MUST stay away from the mountains
7. Black pelted wolves are not to be trusted
8. When the alpha dies his first born son will get to carry on leading the pack.
9. When the alpha dies the beta can do whatever he pleases to the previous alpha female, if she is still alive he may banish her or kill her.
10. Your pack is your family.
11. If any pack rules are broken, or if a member has committed a crime they MUST have a fair hearing.
12. If found guilty the wolf who was found guilty can be either scared, or killed.
13. If the alpha chooses "scar" the guilty will be tackled held down, and beaten by the alpha or another member in the pack, the alpha chooses. The alpha or another pack member will carve a symbol into the guilty, the symbol depends on what crime they committed, and the severity.
5, 8, and 11 were broken when I was in the pack. Like black cats wolves with black pelts are considered to be creatures of the night, as stealthy as a mountain lion, and are not to be trusted.
I let out a deep frosty breath howling in the sky.
I waited, slightly hoping for a response... But none came, the echoes bounced off the mountain tops like wind through grass, but no soul in sight answered.
'These mountains are like a bowl of endless sorrow, no life is ever here. Yet I'm the only one thriving... Or am I?'
YOU ARE READING
Tribal
FantasyHave you ever felt the pack calling your name? Out in the plains? It calls It feels But will you kneel, To a crime you did not commit? Will you walk away from the wilds call Recall All of the things you did? Try and memorize every grid Looking at i...
