I’m Evil. I know I’m evil, and, that may be the single most important thing that I love about myself. Some believe that evil is just a mere word or description. They cannot truly see its potential in the craft of the Dark Arts. It’s the mere ability to hate something, something in you, about you, or around you, and then let the feeling spread. And lie. And devour your heart. And poison your thoughts and view on the world around you.
There are those, though, who know this. They call themselves evil and cherish that thought. They are not evil, not there yet. All they are is darkness, and obstacle a tyrant, much like me, has to overcome before her plans of the glorious future can take a stand. From what you know of me, you may think that the one I am talking about is Ivory. You have no idea how wrong you are. Ivory, and quite a few others, are a large thorn in my side, and they will pay for it.
But no; right now I am only talking about one wolf. The one I am talking about is my brother. My brother Focus.
The white wolf let his dark green eyes waver when my molten amber glare met them, but he didn’t back down or look away, Focus just held his ground and posed a threat to my standing. Enraged by this, I straightened up, tossing my nose into the air so I could smell his palpable scent like that of a foreign threat. As it drifted into my body, I stiffened, for I had come to hate his scent, and the years of training to fight had almost eliminated my ‘fight or flight’ instinct to where when I was with someone who annoyed me, all I wanted to do was fight.
With a fake smirk engraved into my face, I cocked my head, blood slowly pulsing its way through my fur and a piece dripped into the hard peat at my paws. As soon as the drop touched dirt, thunder boomed around us, like a gunfire, crackling the silence between us two littermates, and lighting a spark in our minds. Following it nearly immediately was a flash of fire in the sky, snaking it’s way between clouds and lighting up the once gloomy landscape that, despite being covered almost painstakingly by tree foliage, was invaded in a way by the lighting. As if a cue from the gods, the lighting flash sliced through the stillness and rain started to drop towards us, descending in the fall of power.
Barely wincing as the wound on my hip began to sting as it became wet, I sneered at my brother with a remark. “What would you like from me, brother dear?” I saw him flinch, whether it was me or the rain that had started hailing down as if a warning to stop the inevitable. Focus hesitated to respond, not replying with anything other than glancing away, and then started toward me, snorting angrily. Even though this exchange was quick and almost practiced, we had both become uncomfortably wet with the relentless rain. Focus paused about a wolf-leap away from me as thunder cackled above again. But the thing was, this was such a short distance that it irked me not to do… anything really.
Though, against my better judgment again, I didn’t leap at him, I just waited, slightly curious about what the lecture he had prepared was going to be. That’s the thing about Focus, maybe I wouldn’t hate him so much if he didn’t treat me like I needed his help, that I needed to be taught to be civil. He thought that just because he was to be alpha and not me, that he could tell me how to and what to do. He always wanted to talk when it involved someone else’s problems, but never when I confronted him, telling him that we could end this feud.
The forest around us was a fire with animals scurrying for cover from the raging storm that tormented harder by the blink. The awkward semi-circle of wolves quieted when I spoke, their ears flattened against their heads and their tails lowered as they watched us with fear glinting in their eyes. I saw some back away and retreat for either shelter, or help when this would get ugly.
Believe it or not, most of them stayed on the open, moving closer to get a better watch. These pirates around us wouldn’t be driven away from the ability to watch a fight, especially between the prince and princess. Too bad for them, I just didn’t feel like wasting the energy that I would have to use to kill my pathetic brother.
“Agony,” Focus began, tutting in a way that made my lip curl. “What was the purpose of that little game with Ivory?” He stamped a foot, and his tail raised slightly, as if he was more confident about what he was saying than before.
“What do you mean by game, Focus?” I let the words slip from my mouth and blend into the rain, the wind twisting the sound so it became a hiss of laughter. “I would believe that ‘sport’ would better suit the purpose.” Focus growled and I heard a wolf make an outraged outburst, probably Ivory or Dream. Yawn, this was getting boring quite fast.
“You know what I mean.” I barked sharply, letting his emotions creep into his words with anger and the distinct tone of fear. What wouldn’t he be afraid of? “She is a warrior now Agony. Show her some respect.” He spat out at me, and I saw him shift his position into a battle crouch, and on instinct I did the same, raising my hackles and snarling at his vile words. Foat spitted around my lips as rage pounded in my head; making me think that killing him might not be too bad of an idea right now. I didn’t appreciate him acting bold just to show off in front of her.
That idiotic white wolf flinched and retreated, leaning back slightly so he posed no threat. It wasn’t enough to calm me, though. I yanked forward with a howl of pleasure, my teeth aimed towards his extended tail, and Focus yelped in surprise. Though he was startled, he recovered quickly and began to answer my threatening moves. His tail shifted in the sand, his stance tightening, and his lips pulled back over his teeth slowly. I stopped with a glare, then pulled back, sitting down and sticking my tail out, the fur poised out like spikes.
“Respect? I am her elder, and yours too brother!” My words began to freeze like ice, all warm greetings formally gone for good. Silence lay heavily in the camp, besides the lolling thunder.
He spoke up suddenly, fire sparking his words. “Maybe, but I am the head heir, the head prince.” Ouch. That was something new. To be a Prince or Princess was to be the direct children of the alphas, and the heir to the throne. To be the Head Prince/Princess was generally the title of the first born, example: me. The Firstborn (or chosen female) are to become alpha first. I am the true heiress, but my lovely brother and father got in the way at birth to change that.
Whenever the alphas have more than one pup, the voodoo comes put to decide the heir. Automatically, if a she-pup (or two) is born in a litter, the first born female is the head princess. That is me. My father didn’t want me to become alpha though, he wanted a male pup to carry out his legacy. So, when our voodoo, Flash, came out with her apprentice, Thrash, he hid his girls. Focus was decided head Prince, and then his secret was revealed to the world. I was just marked for failure, he said. So then I grew up. I became a dark and evil wolf, why? Because I am not marked for failure; I am marked to rule this forest. I was made a dark wolf first because of my siblings Focus… and my father, Darkclamour.
I bolted into the air and leaped at my smirking brother. As I virtually flew, I tried to claw my prey, but was blocked in mid air, and knocked to the ground by my only equal in size, strength, and almost in skill. I stood up and shook my head, turning to look at him. “No…” he said, his eyes glazed with sadness and regret; almost like they were apologizing for something. “Father had sent me out here to…” he began.
“And why should I listen to Darkclamour?” I fired back, cutting him off. I shoved him off of me, then shook my fur to clear it of his scent. Some of the mud along his pelt had rubbed off, exposing his bright white fur. I darted my eyes away from it and began to pace in the mud in front of him.