You were weak. Everyone knew it. Even you.
From the day you were born into the pack, you seemed different. Your body — thin, with slender legs and soft fur that looked more like a pup's than a young wolf’s. While the others were learning to hunt, you were weaving flower crowns for the pups. And though no one cast you out, it always felt like you didn’t belong… especially next to him — Rael.
He was different. Strong. Tall, with powerful legs and a sharp gaze. He was respected — even feared. You were not.
And yet, you were both born into the same pack.
You were sitting in the meadow, trying not to shiver from the morning wind, watching the pups bounce around, hanging flower crowns on their ears. They laughed, wagged their tails. You smiled, feeling useful — just a little.
"Hey!"
You flinched. The voice was sharp, cold. Looking up, you saw Rael, wiping sweat from his brow. He had been helping the elders haul chopped branches, his shoulders rising with effort. He looked at you — not judgmental, not annoyed. Empty. As always.
"Still wasting time with flowers?" he asked mockingly. "Are you a wolf or a gardener?"
The pups froze. You looked away, feeling a familiar warmth rise in your chest — shame, or maybe anger.
"They like it…" you muttered. "It makes them happy."
"They like playing with bones too, but we don’t hand them skulls from the battlefield," Rael scoffed. "Stop hiding behind petals. Tomorrow you’re coming hunting with me. Let’s see what you’re really worth."
The next day. The forest. You were trembling. Early morning, your breath turned to mist. You walked behind Rael, feeling the weight of his tense gaze. He always walked a bit ahead. Always a bit taller. A bit better.
You noticed movement. A hare. Far off, but you knew how to creep, how to crouch low. Your heart pounded, blood rang in your ears. This was your chance. You could do it.
You sprang forward, claws tearing at the ground. Almost there! You were just about to reach it—
And then, like lightning from the shadows, Rael lunged. He overtook you by a heartbeat. His fangs sank into the hare’s neck. It jerked — then stilled.
You stopped, breathing heavily. Your chest tightened.