King and Lionheart

His father had left the den early again; his once protective father who had watched his every movement growing up had become distant shortly after the boy turned 1 year old. Rain had never asked why, sure that he already knew the answer: He was nearly a man. By his age his father had founded his pack. His first pack as the stormy male had insisted. Rain by comparison was nothing. A sniveling boy who had grown up clinging to his father. Privately Rain wondered if he would have been a different man had Tyranis not been in his life. Perhaps Rain would have grown up to be bolder, and more independent like his sire. He huffed desolately at the thought.

The sound of giggling lifted his ears, his head cocking to the side as he followed the sound, his small body hiding easily behind the trunks of the trees. At the sight of the femme his breath caught in his throat. She was gigantic! She was larger than his father, larger than any wolf he had ever seen and yet her body still held the awkward proportions of a juvenile. He shrank back, cowering and attempted to back away, his tail tucked and his ears flat. He moved slowly, one leg after another, and then; ”CRACK”. He felt his blood drain as he looked at his back paw, and the broken remnants of a twig that he had stepped on. Slowly, he turned back to look at the woman, now exposed, standing stalk straight and alert with fear.  

Speaking Thinking You