When it rains

Chapter 3: Unlucky

Not every wolf is lucky enough to live in a pack.

Rain was just born unlucky.

“Rogue-born, they call things like you," One-Eye tells her one fateful night. He's an elder man, face of wrinkles and darkened spots, crumpled up like he'd seen something particularly bad. He's a wolf, too though he doesn't shift like her.

One-Eye only has one eye, the other sealed up under his wrinkles, an ugly scar of three marks raking across his face. Yet, his one eye held a light amber hue within the darkness, unlike the black the other wolves have.

“I lost my name, long ago, little one," He said grouchily the first time they shared the eating spot, “Just call me One-Eye."

One-Eye wasn't bad company. She could eat as much as she wanted and he never shifted or went for her throat. He tells her stories, things she didn't know.

“What's a rogue-born?" She asked, small in the scraps of clothing she had stolen from across the street. It's strange what kind of things humans would throw away. They may have holes and be falling off her tiny, thin body but it was warmer than nothing.

“An abomination, if you listen to the pack-borns," One-Eye coughed into his dirty sleeve. The weather was getting colder. Wolf forms were much safer, much warmer to travel by but she'd never seen him transform.

“Rogue's are outcasts, thrown out of packs for not following their laws. Criminals, some call 'em. Cut off from their packs, some even losing their mates, some prefer death."

This, she can't understand. She's faced death. She's had its burning grip around her throat, reduced to slurping mud to keep it from stealing her breath. She's felt its chilling body coiled around her on the nights it's too cold, little paws too numb.

One-Eye coughs, a chuckle under his breath, “'Course you wouldn't understand. It's like having your very being ripped from your chest, everything you love and care for cutting away by a dull blade. No wolf's the same after. Every shift is painful. You'll always be starving, no food able to fill you. No water is able to quench your thirst. Nothing can fill the hole inside of you. And bit by bit, they all go mad."

“If it's so painful, why do they do bad things in the first place?"

One-Eye laughs, one from deep in his throat, raspy as his voice. “If only things were that simple, little one."

“Then what's the difference between me and you? I'm a rogue, too, right?"

“No," One-Eye says firmly, looking upward towards the gray skies. It's dark this particular night, electricity in the air that makes her human fur stand on ends. “You're a rogue-born. The only sin you've committed is being born. Those born from Rogue's almost never live long. You're one of the lucky ones, or unlucky depending on how you look at it."

“What makes me so different?" She asks, frustrated as their conversation goes in circles.

“Means you'll never feel that pain," One-Eye had croaked, sounding sad, “But you'll also never feel anything a wolf should. It's an empty, lonely life for ones like you, little one."

It wasn't until now that she truly realized what One-Eye had been trying to tell her.

There's instant chaos once she is revealed.

Those once human shift, tattered clothes falling off their body as they snarl at her broken form.

Her head goes numb, stuffy as she panics. Dozens of wolves surround her, a mob of teeth and claws ready to tear her apart.

A rogue is one thing.

Something like her is another.

“A rogue-born?" One whispers in denial, “That's impossible."

“Kill it! It's an abomination!"

“Look how filthy it is. Disgusting."

“Execute her!"

Angry protests pour from the crowd, circling around her dizzyingly. Her death, so easily called for by their mouths.

Rain wished she was back in the alleys she lived in. Starving, but that would be a much kinder death.

For one terrifying moment, the pack wolves charge forward, their eyes filled with bloodlust upon her form. She shrinks, positive they are going to rip her to pieces.

One of the human wolves reaches forward and grabs her hair, pulling her head back with a sharp snap and exposing her throat. She grits her teeth, hands immediately going to try to rip his hands away, too vulnerable.

Before she can say anything, It is the Alpha's voice that breaks through the threats.

“LET HER GO!" The forest wakes at his burst of anger, blue eyes dancing with electricity. His hands morphed, fur and claws growing from the partial shift.

Like it was burned, the hand snatched itself from her head. Rain breathed heavily, shaking now as she realized she had barely escaped death.

The pack wolves are startled, taking steps back from her. Enough that she sees an opening in the tree-line.

Brave or stupidly perhaps, she scatters to her feet and runs. As a wolf, she's the dead weight but a human only needs two working legs.

She just barely reaches the treeline before she's tackled to the floor, landing on her back for the second time that night. She screams as the wolf's fangs tear into her raised arm instead of her throat. She thrashes underneath him, struggling to push him off but he is much bigger and stronger than her and she is so tired.

Her arm drips blood onto her own face, obscuring her vision as she sees it release her arm. She thrusts both injured arms into the wolf's face, right under its jaws, keeping it from her head as it goes for the kill.

Her heartbeat pounds in her ears, as she thinks 'I'm really going to die" and then the wolf is knocked off her, tearing its teeth across her forearm on its way.

She cradles her injured arm, shaken as she scoots away from the wolf's fallen form until her back hits something solid.

Another wolf stands in front of her, only able to see its back and fluffy tail, snarling at the wolf with blood dripping from its mouth.

The two growl at one another, conversing no doubt but Rain barely pays attention. She wipes the blood off her face, her fingers shaking.

Gruesome punctures in her arm bleed out over the ground, dripping like a broken pipe. She can barely breathe, her lungs heaving.

A murmur goes through the crowd of wolves, now all of them looking at her in varying degrees of shock and repulsion. None approach her, the wolf in front of her still growling.

She's pretty sure it's the Alpha from before though without seeing his eyes, it's impossible to tell.

“Enough!" A voice cuts through the confusion of the pack wolves. It's the right-hand man from before, the one who outed her identity. He steps toward Rain where she's pressed against a tree trunk.

“I'm sorry about this," The man says, kindly, “My name is Vikas. I'm the Beta of the Ashwood pack. We need to get you treatment, Luna."

Out of everything, it's that single word that breaks Rain's already fragile psyche. Shock turns her every limb cold, realizing now why she hadn't been killed. She locks eyes with electric blue.

Head fuzzy, she hopes all of this is just a dream.

Her body lands on something fluffy, something cold pressed to her cheek.

And then, she welcomes the darkness.