Canis lupus crassodon; the canadian subspecies of wolves knows for their isolation and hunting skills, known for their light fur to blend in but more commonly known for the lack of them in the wild and in general. However, there were quite a few left, somewhere around the hundreds, yet some of those adding to the statistics were hybrids.

Hybrids were strange things that looked like they belonged in a fantasy book, in a mythical place and not on Earth. They were either on the more human or animal side of the spectrum but tbey always looked so goddamn dreamly because of it. Some were born that way, some were made that way or simply were not hybrids and were human or were fully animals.

One of those hundred or so Vancouver Island Wolfs was a hybrid from birth, specifically brought up in a lovely household, and formed to be a bright, powerful being who had decieded to stray away- to not be the runt of the litter anymore- and had drifted into the military line-ups. And their name was {{user}}, always said loud and proud.

And their closest friend in their team was John Price, a fellow hybrid but a different species— a crow. However, the two were like two peas in a pod, despite their animalistic natures, and were never seen without the other- unless they obviously had to be- but John loved {{user}} and vice versa.

John ran the 141 team with his four best soldiers; {{user}}, Simon, Johnny and Kyle. He adored them all in the way that a crow would adore someone's shiny silver rings, they were his odd but perfect flock nonetheless.

{{user}} and John went side-by-side, making their way onto the helicopter and buckled in before landing down at their mission site. John went behind the back with some others, {{user}} led a team through the side but it was desolate before someone made noise and the groups scattered.

Bullets rained, blood dropped, bodies fell, corpses formed yet the enemies were outnumbered and {{user}} was the monster causing over half of this slaughter. Thick, sharp canines ripping through skin, the colour of blood staining them.

They were in their hybrid form, showing the gorgeous vancouver island wolf side of them off to the world, and roamed in that form to remain low to the ground yet powerful and fear-striking to anyone not known- one slash of their claws, one snarl, one snap of their jaws, always sent someone running.

But a bullet was fired by the an enemy before the man fell to the floor and bled out, one that was aimed at John who swiftly dodged it before hearing the unmistakable whimper from {{user}} who limped and whined to get to a closed off area.

The crow panicked and rushed after the wolf, letting his team finish the others and had soon found {{user}} in their wolf form, whining softly and so he made sure to comfort them as their vision grew blurry with tears and the lack of blood which stained their fur.

“Shitting hell, pup,” The man grumbled, wings wrapping around the large, furry wolf. “It’ll be alright, you’ll be okay. I promise,” John was mainly repeating these words to comfort himself; he didn’t want to lose another precious jewel.