The Prey (LGBT+)

Chapter 2: A Rogue walks into a bar

Kohl

"When did this happen?" I ask Jasar, "How long had she been missing?"

"Missing?" Jasar asks, "No more than a couple of hours. She went running, according to her parents."

Jasar, Akira, another enforcer named Boris and I stand in front of the pale body of a fellow werewolf named Janie. One of the scouts found her lifeless body this morning just South of the pack lands. The four of us set out immediately to canvas the area.

I, as the Alpha, had to see for myself. I feel every wolf's life in my pack just as I feel every death. This case is an especially sad case. Janie is the youngest daughter of one of my father's eldest friends. She was a good girl, just younger than me. She was always a nice person. She didn't deserve to die like this.

"Who would kill Janie? She was harmless." Akira asks, "No wolf would do this."

"There's no blood." Boris notices, "Shouldn't there be blood?"

"Yes," I say tilting the woman's head to the side. There are two puncture marks yet they don't match any fang marks I've ever seen. I exhale, "There's no blood at all. She couldn't have been out here for more than a couple of hours yet she's so cold and pale. We need to have Pavius examine her. He might have an idea what kind of wolf did this."

"Or it's the cold ones." Boris suggests.

"That's a myth." I growl, "There's no such thing as...them."

"Humans believe us to be myths as well." Boris says, "What other explanation is there?"

"We'll see. Grab Janie. We're heading back." I say as I turn and head back towards the pack lands.

Boris does as he's told and we all head back. I can feel their thoughts. Boris' theory is beginning to sink into their minds.

And mine.

McKennon

I have been moving from place to place, trying to find a concrete place to settle. I never realized that as a Rogue, I developed a habit of leaving with no intention of settling down. I've moved across the bulk of California, finally settling in Nevada.

I found a very charming little dive bar called the Wolf's Den. The desert wolves congregate here. There are wolves from all over here, most just passing through like me. The bar itself is nothing special that you wouldn't find in any small town. A bar, a couple of stools, a pool table and dim lights with tacky decorations, including taxidermy. A jukebox in the corner plays older music.

I find the nearest bar and start ordering as much whiskey as possible in the rather small glass. After two sparse glasses of whiskey, I order two beers. I usually don't engage in much conversation with the wolves as they're mostly in packs. Being a Rogue, I'm typically not the favored wolf in the room. The only comfort I get is when I meet an unmated she-wolf that doesn't annoy me with her problems.

I've had a couple close calls with the she-wolves' packs because of this.

My mind always wanders to my former pack. My familial pack and not the pack of Rogues. The Rogues turned their backs on me when it mattered to follow Viceres. It was their mistake and they paid for it. It's not my problem.

My familial pack, the White Eclipse, saved me when they didn't have to. They also expected me to regret my past. I murdered wolves indiscriminately to get where I wanted to be. I made my own pack instead of inheriting one. I used the pitfalls of my life to create something that was purely mine.