XALIA'S TRAGEDY

CHAPTER 1

It occurred so swiftly. Dark canopies of forestry encompassed the pack. Deirdre was a young werewolf Mum; Deirdre by human name, Xalia by werewolf name. She never realized her humanity. It was as if the curse that had transformed her into a werewolf had erased every memory she once had. It was only Xalia she remembered vividly. Deirdre was a has-been name.

Xalia raced and soared on legs that were blithe and slim through the dark of night. Her fur was like ruffled feathers sweeping along with the breeze. She loved this life – had loved this life until it happened.

The pack she was traveling with was her mate, Hezekiah, and her two young cubs, Xavier and Extra. They traveled through the forestlands deftly and with enthusiasm.

Then… howls permeated through the air as a distress call was instituted.

Hezekiah stood on his hind legs and howled back.

“That’s Rascal, Jericho’s pup”, he stated. “He’s alarmed. I’m going.”

“You ca-“ Xalia began to object when Hezekiah roared away.

“The babies”, stated Xalia, desperately.

She huddled her cubs up to herself securely and covered them with her haunches. She heard a loud dying moan minutes later, thrashing, and limbs ripped by vicious teeth.

Then… “Hezekiah”, Xalia let go of her pups and ran towards the howls. She got lost searching in a panic.

“Hezekiah”, Xalia wailed. “Where are you?”

One last moan and Xalia approached Hezekiah’s lifeless body. She saw another werewolf slain next to him. This was Rascal, the cub of Jericho. He must have wandered off.

A pattering, pattering of racing feet caused Xalia to look up and see the fast-disappearing shadow of the werewolf who had finished off her darling husband and young cub. Cub! Xalia had no time to grieve for her dearly loving cups. Where were her cubs?

Turning at lightning speed, Xalia coursed through the forest so quickly, branches rattled at her fast pace. Where were they?

She was outside of close range when she heard the piercing shrieks. It then was too late. In that devastating moment, she had lost both her mate and children. Her devastation was now complete and in dismay and total anguish, she lifted her head and howled toward the shining moon, now concealed with clouds as if hiding from her heartbroken soul.

The other packs would crowd around Xalia, snapping and sniping their jaws with great discrepancy.

Xalia would hang her head in deep remorse, in overcoming bitterness. Her emotions swirled up within her. Snapping back, she bit a chunk out of one’s fur as if to say, “Back off.”

Head bowing down in shame was her lot, had been her lot for the months she had lost her dear family. The other packs were just that, packs, droves. She had no one. This made her the target for the absolute discrepancy. She was alienated to the point where she would reject herself if she was any more despised and ridiculed. Her portion was now scraping by. The days were bleak.

“Xalia, Xalia, where is your partner?” they would taunt and savagely try to attack her.

But Xalia was young and strong and she would defend herself with assurance. But, hope and confidence, she had none. Her only sliver of family was her parents. But old and weak, they could not defend her nor stand by her. They were all she had and the support she required from them was non-existent. They were elders. They were respected. They were fundamental to the pack.

Xalia, on the other hand, couldn’t defend her babies and had allowed Hezekiah to be terminated. She was an helpless outcast.

Often, Xalia would just withdraw and howl at the moon.

One night, Selene, the moon goddess, took note of Xalia’s persistent heartache. The moon goddess came to her rescue.

That was a step on moment of glory for xalia