Blood is everything. The blood in their veins. The blood that paints their teeth. The blood that dyes the blades of grass to a scarlet hue. Like a painter, fervent in his art and madly brushes the canvas with different colors splattering around his house each bite into flesh splashes the ground, the trees, and the rocks. No chance of survival for the deer. The wolves swarmed around them, much like a shark feeding frenzy. In this pack of twenty canines, one stood out sitting down on a large rock above the hunger carnage and only surveying.
Naked as the day one is born, the only things on his body are two necklaces, one of string made of fangs and the other a steel dog tag. On his back a duffel bag. His jaw bites down into the red organ taken from the deer. The blood trickles down his tanned chest like dripping paint. He likes the heart and liver of his prey. As delicious as the meal usually is, his mind is on someone else, but the thought is broken by one of the members.
“Is it ok to stop, Dysnom? We’re going to be late.” A thin wolf with brown and grey pelt and duffel bag also strapped to its back questions. The voice echoes in their leader’s head. He takes another bite of the heart. His bloody hand scratches his raven colored wild hair. “Don’t worry about it.” Dysnom says. His voice spoken aloud to the world.
“Miranda is going to be there on time. She should be arriving soon. We’re only there as muscle in case she is threatened. Most likely the vampires, those disease ridden mosquitoes, will be there first. After them should be Miranda and some of her pack. You know Miranda loves her job. She’s been doing it nearly a century now. The faeries next. Last the djinn because they don’t seem to know the concept of a freaking community meeting.” The pack leader continues.
The thin wolf stares at his leader for a few seconds before asking another question. “Do you think this is going to work out? How many times is there such a large meeting between all of the races? Especially the high ranking leaders of each? Are humans really that great of a threat?”.
“You got me. You and I were born in this age. This is normal for us. For others like Miranda and those centuries old they see things differently. That type of big picture thinking isn’t my specialty. I’m just the fangs of the wolf race. Let someone else be the brains.” Dysnom responds. Finishing his heart the man stares up into the setting sun his palm gripping the dog tag and looking at the name on it.
“Do you think Styks is alright? Wasn’t she supposed to come to Night’s Tower too?” the thin wolf says. This time Dysnom replies back at a quicker response.
“She’s alright. Probably off helping someone. She can’t seem to ever leave a stray in trouble, whether it be human or demon…” the dark haired man says his voice trailing off as he stares at the dog tag. He has her dog tag and she has his. A symbolism of the two always with each other, yet this is the first the alpha leader feels so far away from her.
Shaking these feelings away he rises. It is time for the wolves to head off. A few miles off and a few hours away before things get started. He puts his forehead to the thin wolf’s had, gently holding the sides of his head. “Don’t worry she’s ok. And no matter what happens at this assembly we wolves will be ok. We’re all blood so we’ll stick together and survive.” Dysnom states reassuringly.
This is what the naked alpha believes in. The blood that makes them family and the blood they devour is most important. After all blood is everything.