So this is like... the prologue of a story that will probably not ever be written. Thusly I consider it a short story. Tell me what you think! And oh mai gawd, I've missed SE. School has prevented me from doing more than answering mail. sweatdrop
You humans don’t know squat about werewolves. For one thing, the whole silver hang up? Bull. We only have a slight problem looking directly at it. We are not afraid of the full moon; we may hate it, but we are not afraid of it. We are not immortal. We just have much, much longer life spans.
We think. We feel. Sure, there are some rotten apples, but it’s like that with humans, too, right? You lot ain’t saints, take a freaking look at Hitler. Do not dare to assume that we are all killing machines with an affinity for making things bloody. The only time we are remotely dangerous is on the full moon, and we know enough to get the hell away from you racist jerks before we transform. “Your honour, this wolf attacked me!” “Good lord, let’s not look at the fact that it was a full moon and give the damn thing a life sentence!”
You have no idea how many times I’ve hear that one. Just a few weeks ago, some a*****e slapped the mate of a female Alpha on the a**. The Alpha castrated him. Then, the guy pressed charges, and the Alpha was tried as a human. Which is so not right, because she isn’t human. (Here’s where it gets a bit technical; if you’re not the brightest crayon in the box, I suggest you skip this part.)
A werewolf is not a human. We feel and think like a human might, however, the biggest difference is this; when we mate, we mate for life. Our mate becomes our everything, and the worst crime in the werewolf society is sleeping with a mated wolf. This crime is punishable by death. It’s a tad bit complicated to put in words, particularly because I am not a mated wolf.
The point is this; any untoward actions towards a wolf’s mate are inexcusable. Punishment is in order for those that commit any such actions. It’s kind of like... in your human Medieval times, when a lady’s honour had to be defended in matches to the death. Only with us, it goes both ways. A female mate is wont to defend her male mate, and vice versa. It’s instinct. It’s a type of rage that hits boiling point so fast it’s incredibly difficult to control.
(Start again here.)What made the above case worse was that the Alpha was female. Female Alphas view their packs as their children, and any crime committed against one of her ‘children’ is dealt with immediately. They are even more extreme and protective of their mates, who are placed on the highest pedestal. I was actually surprised that the Alpha in question had stopped at castrating the man.
Young wolves dream of meeting their mates. Unfortunately, some wolves never meet their only. Oh, and I do mean only. We’re not even supposed to sleep with unmated wolves, even if we are unmated ourselves.
On another topic entirely, it’s incredibly hurtful when I can’t even walk into a grocery store without being glared at. I can’t help who I am. It’s also amusingly hypocritical of you. You all say, “No, I’m not racist,” but then you look down on me for transforming into a wolf? You have disdain for those who insult and hate those of another skin colour or sexuality or whatever, and then you turn and jeer at me for having brighter eyes and a higher body temperature? It makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time. Do you know what kills my kind more often than not? Suicide. There are those who can’t stand leaving their house to be spat upon, jumped, or assaulted by all manner of things, and I don’t blame them.
Personally, I was recently released from prison for attacking a rapist who tried to victimize my little sister. Well, ‘attacking’ is a kind way of putting it. I broke every bone in his right hand, then proceeded to break his knees. I took a knife to his face and scarred him horrifically. ‘To the pain,’ I say. ‘Just desserts,’ I say. ‘An inhuman display of savagery,’ says the jury. ‘Ten years in prison,’ they add. I’m not insane, nor am I normally violent. I just do not see why I was punished for punishing the scum of the earth. That b*****d deserved what he got. He deserves more.
See, before a wolf mates their family is everything to them. My little sister was eight when she was nearly raped. Do not look me in the eye (figuratively, I mean, considering this is just text and not my actual face), and tell me you would not do the same thing for someone dear to you.
By the way, I got out early. The prison therapist would counsel me daily, because apparently the judge thought I was unstable. The therapist had no prejudices that he would advertise, and was fair to me. He determined my sanity; however, when he asked me if I regretted what I did, I said no, I did not. He asked me if I would do it again and I laughed at him. Of course I would. I just hope I don’t have to, I told him. He pulled some strings (for he himself believed that I wasn’t wrong in my actions, I just wasn’t right.), and I was released two years early. I was sixteen upon the time of my trial, and I was tried as an adult.
Eight years later, at the ripe age of twenty four (still a baby in the eyes of my kind), I decided to write something that would hopefully change some people’s perspectives of werewolves. I fear that adding that particular bit of my past had the reverse effect. Or perhaps gained some sympathy, I do not know how your minds work. But hey, you don’t know how our minds work, either.
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