Vargr

Svend was a Brodir, traditionally referred to as the Ørlǫglauss, or fateless. Though terms for his rank changed over time, their fate remained the same. He grew up expecting the loneliness knowing he wasn't a part of the blessed few. The Mærr. The truly fortunate ones, favored by their Goddess, honored with the greatest gift of all- a mate.

He never expected the Goddess to look down on him, to deem him worthy; it would be almost conceited of him to think himself an exception to the fate of the Brodir. It was far from common, almost impossible.

At least, that is what he thought until he found his reason for living.

His sun, moon, and stars.

His mate.

His Gemma.
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Essentially, an uncharacteristic werewolf story that takes the traditional and adds a little twist.

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