Mine

The War

   In the begining, there was peace. The alphas found a way to coexist peacefully for centuries, they held tournaments to decide who had the years toughest warrior. That pack got to host the Mating Ball. The honor of hosting the Mating Ball was one of the highest honors a pack could have. The Mating Ball was the one event of the year where all of the packs would come together as a species and celebrate the most special thing the moon goddess gifted us wolves: The Mate Bond. Every female unmated female was to dress her best, like she was royalty. Everyone was royalty for a night. The unmated males were to wear an all black suit with their pack emblem stitched over there heart. The Ball was the most anticipated event of the year. It was mandatory for all unmated wolves to attend. Everything was bliss. There was unity, there was strength. there was peace.

   That was, until Alpha Briton. 50 years ago, a cruel and strong alpha decided he was done with unity. He wanted to be the alpha of all the packs. So when that years Mating Ball came around, when the alphas were on the stage, making speeches to their packs, he slit the 3 most powerful alphas throat. He declared that those wishing to live should join him or suffer a more painful fate. Out of 15 packs, 10 sided with Briton. The remaining packs: Ilegra, Lynca, Orian, Leon, Kindrin, kept up the age old alliance. Keeping up tradition, the Mating Ball continued. The remaining alphas managed to kill off over half of Britons forces before him and his pack retreated into the northern border towards the Snow Lands. A few traitors were allowed to join the allied packs but were punished with the status of an omega and were to be mateless for life. Only to breed with other omegas. Briton still lurks in the background, a reminder of the dark history we survivors share. When he comes we will be ready. We all will be ready.