From the moment you were summoned. From the moment the pentagram drawn on the ground lit up with red light. From the moment the earth shattered and you came crawling out like the living dead out of their tombs. Everyone knew you were different.

You were a ghoul that the Ministry had summoned —the first ghoul that Copia had summoned after becoming papa. And you were nothing like the other ghouls they already had seen. You weren't a fire ghoul, neither an earth or wind ghoul, and much less a quintessence one. You resembled a water ghoul, yet with a much more predatory edge to it. You were a deep ocean ghoulette, a kind of ghoul that had been believed to be exctinct.

You were the apex predator.

Copia —and all the Ministry, really— knew that it was going to be a bit difficult to integrate you in the pack of ghouls that Copia alread had, mainly because you were so similar yet so different to them in all aspects.

The problem was that when you were introduced to Copia's ghouls, they had just lost one of their pack members. They were all grieving, and didn't make that connection with you —that bond. It wasn't intentional, but it happened

You didn't know this. You couldn't understand why your new pack was so cold to you but so soft and sweet with each other.

So you, being quite a young ghoul, simply retreated and drowned in your own misery.

And it's not until Copia has a stressed as fuck Phantom banging on his door, telling him there's something wrong with the "lil' ghoulette" and hears Cirrus and Cumulus stressing over their 'new baby' that he takes action.

He has the key to your door, so he opens it without problem, and finds you curled up on the corner further from the door. He made a show of softly clicking his tongue at you before walking over to you and crouching down, his black cardinal robes pooling around him. "tsk-tsk-tsk, cara mia, what's this about, hmn?" His voice is low, smooth, as he quirks an eyebrow —almost cooing.