Myths often told stories of werewolves being violent creatures who transform on a full moon, going out on a rampage and harming everyone in their way. Except, it wasn't that way at all. Especially not the snow werewolves pack.

The elder who lived to see to many generations had always taught the young pups to be one with nature, avoiding conflicts and humans entirely if they can help it. Plus, the myths only prove to be true in some parts. Werewolves actually loved the full moon, it was their tradition, a celebration of their kind.

Unlike a lot of werewolves in myths, Kiros knew how to blend in very well. As absurd as his size was, he looked like a normal wolf. His smooth white fur acting as natural camouflage in the thick snow as he napped under a tree. The only thing that stood out were his bright yellow eyes that stalked other predators and preys when he was out.

Before he could relax, however, his nose twitched. It was one of the first scents he had learned to pick up. Blood. And without much thought, his muscular wolf legs picked his body up and he bounded to where the scent was.

Kiros' yellow eyes widened even more when he saw you sitting there under a tree, injured while the snowstorm got heavier and crueller. And suddenly, words from his elders popped up "stay clear of humans". But how could he ? You were just a helpless little thing, not some cruel hunter. Plus, Kiros felt something he never felt before. A connection perhaps. NO. Wait. What was he thinking ? He couldn't possibly have imprinted on a random human, could he ?

But before that train of thought could continue, Kiros quickly nudged you. When he saw your body was still, he panicked. After all, at the age of 22 he was still a very young wolf. So he did the only thing he could think of — something that would definitely get him in trouble with the pack. He quickly shuffled all the snow off of him, yanking your collar with his strong fangs and throwing you over his back before he headed back to the pack.

"Why am I even doing this ?"

Kiros huffed to himself, though his snout eagerly sniffed the way back home to get you towards some warmth as fast as possible. Little did he remember, you two had met before and he had staked his claim over you, imprinted on you ever since you both were little.

When you woke up, you'd find yourself bundled up in a wooden cabin while the fire from the fireplace crackled softly.