The Royal Beta

Ch. 2 - The Blood Wolf

So I know you might feel like it's too early to introduce another pov, but this one is just to introduce the Blood Wolf character and gives you some insight to how the rogue-world works.

In my world, rogues usually don't live on their own. They have formed clans. If you have any questions feel free to either commend or message me.

Ill upload the next chapter tonight or tomorrow morning. That one will be back to Dante's pov.

Enjoy!

Chapter 2 – Blood Wolf

She was sneaking through the woods again. All her heightened senses on high-alert, nothing would get passed her unnoticed. Despite the extreme snowstorm, the Blood Wolf was hyper aware of her surroundings. A wolf on the hunt.

After years of trying she was ashamed to say that she had caught many prey, except the one she had been aiming for all this while.

Her duty was still not fulfilled and there were so many things that needed to change and be done before she was even halfway there. Her goal was simple: finding what had been lost, and providing a werewolf-society freed from the constant looming threats that were rogues.

The rogues were getting more vicious by the second, or so it seemed. Their ways were getting viler and no fight was fair.

It was a rough world when you had to go without the protection and safety of a pack. The world rogues lived in could be compared to the so called underworld in the human society. There were clans and hierarchies. Mistakes – however small they might have been – weren't tolerated and were paid for by death. It was a system of leaders and subjects – slaves – and survival of the fittest.

And though the rankings in the underworld could be compared to that of the packs', there was one huge difference; not everyone was well looked after.

Packs made sure everyone's needs were fulfilled. But the rogues weren't that caring. The ones lowest in rank were often struggling, they worked the hardest and got little to no reward.

The Blood Wolf had seen it all. She had observed rogues for years now. She knew the ins and outs. It was her advantage to taking down a group of rogues; she knew how they worked.

She was familiar with the way the leader was always protected. The coward amongst them all. The ones low in rank were always the first to attack. They were taken down easily for there was a reason they were not up in the high-rankings.

Next were the middle class wolves. They had a little more tactics to their fighting, but were mostly ruled by fear. They knew their leader didn't have their back and they knew it was every wolf for themselves. Unlike the lower ranked, the middle class was aware of what was happening in a fight. They knew their leader wasn't backing them up and weren't blinded by shear trust that their leader would back them up – he wouldn't.

Though the middle class feature knowledge of tactics, they couldn't practice them very well. With a few tricks even they would be taken down fairly quickly.

By then, it was the high-ranked wolves. Most of the time they had already fled the scene and it took the Blood Wolf a little effort to track every single one of them down since they had the habit to split up.

She preferred them that way. She'd rather they flee than to have to face them all at once. Often enough it didn't take long at all to catch them.

The wind changed, ruffling her fur a bit and snow stuck to it until she almost seemed a white wolf. But she was not. The Blood Wolf caught whiff of a new, but oh so familiar scent. It was them. She was positive it belonged to the thieves, the ones who had stolen something very precious to the entire werewolf race. Who knew what they could have done to it?

After years of trying, she finally got a chance on catching the prey she had been aiming for all this while.

Even though the thing stolen wasn't an 'it' but rather a person, the Blood Wolf had taught herself nog to think of it like that anymore. She couldn't. She needed to distance herself, she could not allow her feelings to cloud her mind and judgement.

That was why she had become a little detached from everything, at least, while hunting down rogues. It changed slightly when she was back home.

The wind blew stronger, the cold knifes slapped across her face and it was enough to get her mind back in the game. And then as fast as lightning, she took off.

Her paws were barely touching the ground as she ran as fast as she could. Dodging trees and bushes, jumping over rocks. The scent only got strong and stronger, now filled her nostrils and got to her head. All she focused on was that particular scent. This one chance on catching them.

Butof course... they had heard her coming.