I came from a mission and I was gone for a long time. It's been almost a year "I guess,I can't count the days when I'm on a mission so I'm not sure anymore.
There was nothing else in my mind but to do what I needed to. My hands are often covered in blood.
Not because I'm afraid to die, but because I'm afraid to leave those who depend on me. I am a man who lives for others.
Every breath I take every day is for someone else.
And it started when I stepped on my eleventh birthday.
This is the day I should have celebrated happily but I didn't because on that day, I was separated from the people I call family.
My mother took me to the pack where she came from when she found out that my father was unfaithful and cheating on her.
That was a poor pack and had almost nothing to eat.
The land
