Three wolves hurried themselves along the gusted winds of the Great Plains. A storm was coming, a huge blizzard. But these wolves were prepared, with thick winter fur and their small pack to support them. The two siblings, and their aunt - shrouded and huddled together as another great zephyr brought them closer together. "Tell us a story, Aunt.", said the female as a shiver racked her bones. "Yes, Sirca. A story.", said the male, too grown-up for "Aunt's" anymore. The two siblings were both around two years of age, quite young for wolves. They had struggled through a rough four years together, and avoided the deadly growing pack of Noxic's as they were called. The pack had grown since taking over the cub's home. The large pack was now nearing 100, with various smaller packs spread over the Great Plain's frontier. The main pack, which still lived in the paradise valley, which was the three wolves' old home, was reaching 35 wolves. It was large for a wolf pack, but normal. Only one odd thing seperated them from the normal large wolf packs.

The group consisted entirely of males, and only four were females, picked especially for their prowess in fighting and hunting. The aging female took a rest near the cub's. She had not been Alpha, but her sister was. She was a mere omega, and her passive behavior which made the other wolves of the pack ridicule her had saved her. The starving pack had tried to steal from a small band of Indian's, which were resting after a battle with strange, pale-faced humans. The band was small and weak, but still too strong for the wolf pack - and Sirca was somewhat wary of them from the begining. Perhaps it was something in her destiny, and being that had saved her and let her free the cubs and steal them away before the Noxic's could find them. If it hadn't been for her wariness and passiveness, they would not be standing under this starry sky now. The female chuckled and turned to the two young wolves. "Really? Do you think my age suits me for a lowly story-teller?" Although story-tellers in wolf packs were highly regarded for their wisdom, Sirca used their age to aid her in her joke. The younger cubs laughed and the female roughly shoved her nose into her brother's side. "C'mon, Tye, tell her to give us a story. It'll help to warm our chilly bones." The male wolf looked uncertain for a while, glancing southwest at a shadowy group among the trees. He could not recognize the shapes, so he dismissed his haunted feeling and nodded at Sirca. "Yes, perhaps of Tyv." Tyv, the wolve's god. Every wolf believed in the god, besides the Noxic's. They believe only in their tyrant ruler, Redruth. Even so, Sirca shook her head. "No, Tye, not of Tyv. Perhaps of the Prophecy, hm Persi?" she glanced at the female cub as she said this, who shook her head vigorously. Sirca sat and began with a wary tone that strengthened bit by bit, growing into an amazing speech of up's and down's and valley's and mountain's of tone and pitch. Her voice wavered at one point in the story, glancing at Tye's eye.

"many moons shall pass and come
until the great young wolf is found
the great valley he will be from
where it was once peace and sound

found with two at his side
with a ravens claw over his blurry eye
and his family swept away with the tide
his only words being 'goodbye'

his heart shall be fueled with fury
at the pack that took his place
all the Feril they must hurry
for the past, he must erase.

marked with wounds of great battle
the Varg will not be rested
and the ground will shake and rattle
for his fate; it must be tested

just once more shall be his journey
to restore his injured family
and peace again it will be
when his wrath fades in the sea."

When she finished, she glanced around as if expecting to see shadowy figures emerge from the barren wasteland of snowy outcrops. The two young wolves exchanged glances, and Persi looked especially unnerved. Across Tye's eye was a scar. He had gotten it trying to chase a horde of crow's away from a buffalo carcass not to long ago. He had been scarred, and caused to go blind - his blue-grey eye open for the world to see it's blurry, shaded figure. Tye blinked once, and in an instant the shadow-pack among the tree's pounced. In a haste, Tye was circling his family. Noxic's. The small trio had been too distracted bythe melodic voice of Sirca, and the great one line that proved to be a very frightful sentance. The Noxic's did not care of Persi or Sirca. The six of them discarded of the two lowly females and made off quickly with Tye. Tye looked at his family longingly, a pure, love-filled statement escaping his gaping jaws. "Goodbye." In his mind, he made a promise to himself to escape and free his family from the Great Plain's, to keep them safe and move off somewhere else, where they could be free from the Noxic's.
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