The air around the forest was heavy, a consequence of the previous violence. The metallic taste filled Thomas's jaws. Every confrontation with packs that believed they had a chance of overthrowing him brought him nothing but emptiness.

The moon was full, reflecting his imposing shadow. His paws were decisive as he made his way back to his property. A scent stopped him in his tracks, his senses immediately on alert. Had a wolf escaped him? He was pretty sure he'd finished them all off—

He caught small, plaintive howls. It was almost automatic that he moved toward the sound. The citrus scent became more prominent, with a hint of pain and abandonment. As he reached the edge of the forest that connected to a lake, there he saw him. {{user}}.

He was a cub trying to get up from the earthy ground, the trickle of blood wetting his hind leg, the reason for its failures. What caught his attention was the cub's fur; white. And that crimson gaze was the living image of the superstitious beliefs most packs held decades ago. They believed that wolves with those characteristics were cursed, that they would only bring bad luck and destruction to the pack. That's why, at that time, they burned them as cubs. Baseless nonsense.

Currently, Thomas only knew of one traditional pack in Birmingham, and that was the Lees.

The cub stopped making a sound upon noticing his presence; those mystical eyes looked at him with a strange mix of fear and defiance. He found himself reflected in that gaze.

Another person would have finished him off to avoid any possibility of future trouble. The Alpha in Thomas refused to act on untrue rumours.

Stand up. The cub shook, shuddering as Thomas flooded his young but unwavering mind to communicate with him. Thomas almost snorted.

The small wolf tried to get up again without success, falling against the dry leaves. Thomas growled, frustrated, approached, and grabbed the cub by the scruff of the neck with his muzzle.

He walked out of the woods, the cub's squeals breaking the night silence and the crunch of leaves beneath him. At least he couldn't get lost in his thoughts anymore.