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Werewolf plot. Looking for M!

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Octopus

Moon
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May 11, 2015
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Long ago werewolves flourished through the lands, and Indian land was vast. Dirt roads littering the earth, while small one bedroom homes were made of log, and built up beside them. It used to be peaceful, it used to be safe. There were no land wars, and the people were not forced to hide their true selves.

After thousands of years of peace between the tribes, the white people moved in. The way they spoke to the tribes and belittled their elders put a fury in their minds. Yet, the Indians were outnumbered. They were forced to keep their land in small amounts, and sell the rest to the whites. At that moment, the wolves stopped appearing. Wolves were very much still alive in the tribes, but suppressed by the white man.

As time moved, a group called Rigger came to rise in what was now called the supernatural scene. Rigger hunted wolves. They were everywhere, and always a threat. The men were never allowed on reservation, yet the first step a wolf was to take outside would naturally be close to it’s last. Rigger had become a growing threat for the wolves as they became more advanced with their technologies, now knowing the exact moment a wolf takes steps past their boundaries

With the rise of Rigger though, also came a group called Westward. Westward brought the tribes their supplies when they were unable to get them their selves. The founder of Westward, Aleara West, was a prominent business women at the time, owning three saloons throughout the east corner of Arizona. She was also the lover of a tribe leader, Alpha Gray Locklear.

From Aleara and Gray, came their daughter, Pandora. She had always been small at her max height of 5’1” and her wolf was no bigger, Her skin was unnaturally pail for her tribe, thanks to her mother, and her hair was white as arctic snow. Pandora’s wolf was tiny, just like her body. She looked like an average wolf, so unlike the rest of their massive furred bodies. Her fur was white, except for one bit, her paws were all midnight black, the only thing she had inherited from her father.

Pandora’s Tribe had been wiped out by Rigger, leaving her a lonely stray, roaming the North Western United States, avoiding trouble as well as she could, rarely turning into her wolf form. Yet today was her unlucky day. A silver bullet was lodged in her hind leg as a tall camo covered man ran after her, a shiny silver pistol firmly in his hand as he ran. The man was nearly as fast as her, yet when it came to maneuvering, he didn’t stand a chance. Her muzzle whimpered softly as she ran, legs aching so much already, not to mention the bullet, her chest heaved for air painfully, she’d lost him though.

Her troubles where really only starting though, as her thin wolf form nose dived into a shallow creek bed, her eyes not paying a lick of attention in her aimless run. As she stood she could only focus on what stood before her. Another wolf, only h was at least three times larger than her, snarling right in her face. He was obviously an Alpha. The small wolf whimpered at him, her head looking down, trying to show him she was no threat. The black wolf gave no answer though, his teeth digging into the scruff of her neck, not painfully, though not gently either. He turned, toting her off, her small whimpers never seizing and her hind leg curled into her body, the silver burning at her whole body.

She was positive she was going to die, but little did she know, the Alpha had other plans for her.
 
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