Fenrir ran across the northern plains, behind him Wulfric and his friends. Wulfric was the chieftain's son, the heir to their tribe. But he didn't feel secure in his position, because of Fenrir.

  Since birth Fenrir had been stronger and larger than his peers. His mother had died during childbirth and no one knew who his father was. Fenrir was left alone, an orphan, but Wulfric had deluded himself into thinking the boy was his father's bastard. How else could he surpass him, the true blood heir? Only the chieftain's blood could explain it.

  It didn't help that Fenrir bared some resemblance with the chieftain, having the same dark hair and square jaw. Wulfric had gone as far as to confront his father, asking him straight up if Fenrir was his son. When that went nowhere he decided to take matters into his own hands.

  He gathered his close friends, his future inner circle, and hatched a plan. He convinced them of his delusions saying his father had all but confirmed it. Wulfric told them that when the time came for succession he feared that Fenric would be picked over him. He reminded them of how they had treated Fenrir, a supposed orphan. Then he posed a single question.

  "What do you think he'll do to us if he becomes chieftan?"

  He didn't wait for them to answer and kept speaking. Answering his own question.

  "That bastard would punish all those who mistreated him. He would drive us out of the tribe, maybe even kill us."

  They were completely convinced, a chill running down their spine as they imagined that grim future. Tonight they acted, while Fenrir was out hunting for his own food. He was in the middle of skinning a deer when he found himself surrounded.

  Looking up he found Wulfric right in front of him, a smirk on his face.

  "Nice deer, too bad you won't get to eat it. You see Fenrir, I know the truth. I know you're my father's bastard, I can smell his blood in you. If you knew your place it wouldn't have come to this. But it seems no matter what you do, you stand out. And I can't allow that. Maybe my father would never give the tribe to a bastard, but I can't risk it."

  Fenrir looked at his with a confused expression. Slowly standing he said.

  "Bastard? I'm no bastard, orphan sure, but wouldn't the chief at least feed me if I were his son?"

  Wulfric scowled at his response, his smirk fading to a frown.

  "You talk too much"

  Turning to his friends he nodded, they immediately rushed in. All but one, who hung back with his bow drawn. Fenrir looked around, looking for an opening to run. He was strong, not stupid. He knew he would lose when surrounded.

  There was a gap left where the archer stood. But all that promised was an arrow to the head, unless he could move quick enough. The challenge solidified in his head. He had no choice but to go.

  He sprinted for the gap, his legs tense with power. The two closest to him whirled, spears swinging as he ran past. His cheap leather barely caught the blows, twin red streaks opening on his sides. The cuts were shallow, luckily, but they stung all the same.

  An arrow streaked toward the running Fenrir. Suddenly time stretched, and his eyes glowed with a yellow predatory light. His hand reached up, his fist closed. The arrow caught in his grasp, a breaths away from his eye.

  Fenrir didn't stop running, plunging the arrow into the stunned archer as he ran past. The archer doubled over, the arrow lodged in his side. Shouts echoed from behind him. Wulfric barking orders at his stunned friends.

  "What are you standing around for?! Hurry and guve chase! We must kill that bastard tonight!"

  The group hurried after Fenrir, the archer trailing behind them. Arrows would fly overhead every once in a while but only one struck its mark. While dodging a spear thrown at him, Fenrir had no choice but to take an arrow to the back.

  But he continued running without letting up even as the cuts on his body built up. Arrows continued flying overhead and Wulfric was trailing closely behind him. The Young Alpha raised his sword, Wolf's Fang, he called it. He delivered a few quick but shallow cuts to Fenrir's running figure.

  Fenrir turned back for a second, his fist striking an unguarded Wulfric at his side before running away. Wulfric was sent back stumbling and catching his breath, but he continued to point at Fenrir. Urging his group to keep going.

  As Fenrir ran, a snowy forest came into view and he sped straight into the trees. His blood dripped onto the snow, painting a red trail as he ran through the trees. He began slowing down soon after, the cold and bloodloss getting to him.

  He could hear Wulfric and his group behind him. The rustling of their steps, the crunch of snow under their weight as they ran. Turning his head he caught a new sound, new steps. Softer than his own or Wulfric's, synchronized, faster.

  A howl tore through the forest as Wulfric and his group caught up to the slowing Fenrir. They once again fanned out to surround him. Only their archer hung back, a hand touching his wound as he limped through the snow.

  Wulfric stepped forward, meeting Fenrir's gaze. A smirk had reappeared on his face.

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  "It's over Fenrir, maybe in your next life you'll learn your lesson and know your place."

  Suddenly direwolves shot out from the trees. Screams echoed in the dark forest as all of Wulfric's men were mauled by direwolves. A large white wolf appeared in front of Fenrir, growling at the trembling Wulfric. A warm liquid spread in Wulfric's pants as he faced the wolf. A cold dread filling his body as he fell to his knees.

  Fenrir stood stunned, inwardly a little afraid of the large beast. He watched as Wulfric hurriedly crawled away, looking back at the direwolf with fearful eyes. The beast just watched as he ran away before turning back to face the wounded Fenrir.

  The two made eye contact and suddenly Fenrir wasn't afraid anymore. As he looked into the direwolf's piercing eyes he could see it meant no harm to him. He stood stunned as the beast approached him. The direwolf circled him, its nose twitching as it took in his scent, his blood, exhaustion, his essence.

  Fenrir fell to on one knee, his adrenaline fading as he came to relative safety. The beast stopped circling him, and lowered its head to lick at his wound. When it looked up again something had changed, a connection created between them.

  The other direwolves approached them, in total there were six of them. The white aplha sat beside Fenrir and the others sat in front of them. Like a king to his subjects they faced the pack.

  A slimmer, sleek direwolf with a light brown coar. A larger, scar ridden direwolf with a coat dark as the night. A silent direwolf with a grey coat, never once making a noise. A smaller seemingly young cub bearing the alpha's white coat. Lastly there was an older looking dirwolf with a missing ear his coat a fading grey.

  This night Fenrir solidified one of the most important bonds of his life. In the days that followed his connection to them only deepened. Every shared hunt, every cold night spent curled against their warmth. A silent understanding began building between them, especially with King, the white alpha.

  He had given names to everyone. The sleek runner Scout. The black scar ridden warrior he called Scar. The young cub he named Snow. The silent grey wolf he names Ghost. Finally, he called the elder Grey.

  It had been nearly a year since Wulfric had chased him to the forest now. Snow had become a fearsome direwolf, not the pup he used to be. Fenrir himself had also changed, his hair growing long and thick, he had braided it with bones from his hunts. His frame had over all filled out a lot more, his diet consisting of mainly meat.

  Fenrir was resting in their den when suddenly his ears perked up. He could hear Scout's howl from down south, in the forest. He stood up with haste and covered himself in various furs and pelts to remain warm before leaving the den. Many bone weapons littered his body, daggers at his sides and chest.

  Running down the rocky hills, he could see the other direwolves rushing out of the caves. They all gathered in front of their den, King strode up beside Fenrir and let out a howl. The four wolves round them echoed his howl im harmony, belting out a savage song.

  Fenrir, too howled. His voice perfectly blending in among theirs. Then the group set off south, they moved like blurs across the tundra. Trees began appearing as they moved, the forest gradually thickening.

  Scout had been letting out howls every now and then, guiding them along its path. It seemed to be tracking something, a large hjnt by the sound of it. Fenrir's ears could make out loud rhythmic thumping, as if something large were stomping the earth.

  As they ran Scout fell in line behind the pack. Looming over the trees, a large ice blue figure came into view. A frost giant, remnants of ancient titans. A strong but dim witted creature that rarely appeared before people.

  Its piercing blue eyes locked onto Fenrir and the direwolves. A slow, dumb smile began forming on the giant's face. Fenrir looked up at the fifteen meters of elemental muscle and bone, a chill tracing down his spine. Shaking his head, he pushed down his fear. This was their territory and no one, even a giant, could intrude.

  The pack shot forward and Fenrir followed behind them, looking to find an opening. The direwolves went straight for the giant's legs, biting for its heels and clawing at its thighs. The giant was slow in reacting but deadly nonetheless.

  Its heavy arms swung about, reaching for the speeding direwolves as they ran circles around it. Thin red streaks began appearing on the giants legs as the direwolves attacked. Roars of pain echoed through the forest as the smile on the giants face dropped. It continued attacking, completely mad.

  Only this time the attack connected, Grey had lagged a step behind the pack. Its sweeping arm crashing into the old direwolf. Grey was sent crashing into a tree, blood bursting from his jaws. He fell ti the snow covered ground, twitching as his blood marked the snow red. It wasn't long after that the elder took his last breath, his eyes still focused on the battle.

  Fenrir bolted forwards, bone dagger in hand. He ran past the giant's legs, intentionally targeting a small wound left behind by the direwolves. The thin red streak expanded into a red gash as he ran past. A maddened roar ecoaed the giant, its hand immediately coming down on Fenrir.

  But the wound on its heel made it stumble, its footing unsteady. Fenrir easily dodged the huge attack as the giant fell on one knee. The direwolves immediately went in to attack. King jumped onto the giants knee, his claw swiping at its face and taking an eye.

  Five small red streaks appeared on the giants cheek. Anger overwhelmed the giant as it suffered wound after wound from its food. Its hand shot for an airborne King much faster than it seemed possible for something so large to move.

  "No!"

  Fenrir watched with wide eyes as the giants hand closed, its grip tightening. King struggled in its grip, his spine breaking as he let out a howl of pain. A scream of rage left his lips and his eyes glowed a predatory yellow as he felt their connection sever.

  Fenrir felt his blood, pumping and his mind began going blank, his instincts taking over. He continued screaming, this time in pain as he felt his bones crack and shift. Fur spread across his body as he slowly grew to seven feet tall, hus furs and pelts shrinking as he grew

  The giant watched him transform with a hint of fear. It had felt this kind of presence before, a Divine presence. The direwolves howled in anger as they watched their alpha die, their howls harmonizing with Fenrir's screams. The giant stood stunned, its mind flashing back to its meeting with Orogos, the last titan and God of Earth and Land.

  Three heartbeats later what stood before the ice giant wasn't a boy but a beast. Fenrir's jaw had turned unto a snout and his nails had hardened into claws. The next second Fenrir was gone, appearing directly in front of the stunned giant.

  He plunged his hand into the giant's neck, his claws piercing deep into its jugular. Blue blood sprayed from the wound, showering Fenrir in it. The giant recoiled back, its head shooting back from the force of Fenrir's attack.

  He continued his barrage of attacks, crashing into the giants face. His claws raveged the large blue face, leaving behind ling gashes in its cheeks and taking its last eye.The giant fell on its back. Fenrir stood on its bleeding face, his frame shrinking as he fell unconscious.

  Snow carefully approached him, his steps uncertain. But as Fenrir fell, his hesitation vanished and he jumped onto the giant to support him. As Fenrir's blood marked his white fur, the connection between Fenrir and King had was rebuilt deeper than before.Only this tume it was with Snow that he'd bonded.

  Howls echoed in the night, the six direwolves mourning the loss of two members of their pack.