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The Blood War

Chapter Two

Outlander chased an elk through an open plain, free and alone. Just as it reached a ridge that cut off its escape path, the hunted turned on its hunter suddenly. The flat teeth of a plant-eater grew sharp, the eyes peircingly blue and almost dead. The elk's skin began to sag and droop from its body, tearing away in places, revealing dry bones underneath. There was a cry somewhere in the distance, the cry of a coyote, but the elk was advancing too quickly for Outlander to take her attention off of it. Just as it loomed over her, lowering its head to gore her with its antlers, she was snatched awake by the burning sensation of fur being ripped from her neck.

"Up, Omega!" snarled a gruff voice. Outlander's eyes were hazed with the delusion of half-sleep. She blinked hard, trying to clear the image of the blurred figures in front of her. "Yes, yes," chimed an enthusiastic second voice, "Up, half-breed!" The second figure, a wolf the color of dry mud, was much scrawnier and less impressive than the first.

Rat, she thought. That's what she called the former omega, since he looked unatural, like a rat trapped in a wolf's body. The only reason Outlander was forced to take the foal-like wolf's position at the end of the pack was because he was all wolf. No disgraceful coyote blood to taint him.

"I said up!" he screamed. He lunged at her, gripping a large chunk of her honey-red pelt and ripping it from her body as he snatched his head away. Outlander's skin screamed at her silently and through the searing pain she could feel the immistakable tickling sensation of blood gliding through her fur, but she bit her tongue, not willing to give the sadistic wolf the satisfaction he so desired.

The other wolf, Ashsky, the pack beta female, only stood and watched emotionlessly, her smoke gray pelt making her a shadow in the dim light of the den. Determined to prove his might to the respected wolf, Rat placed a paw on Outlander's head and shoved it into the ground mercilessly. The weakling was the same size as Outlander, and much less able-bodied, but she was an omega, and that meant she had to remain powerless, unless she wanted her throat torn out. In a coyote pack, power determined your rank; here, it was all about breeding and tradition.

Her throat was pressed against the ground hard enough that it became a struggle to breathe. Seeing the coywolf's frantic scrambling, Ashsky barked. "Enough," she said, calmly and evenly. Rat sneered and let Outlander up slowly. The coywolf gasped for air a moment and bristled, but kept her head low and her tail between her legs, as an omega was meant to.

Just try that again, she thought, when no one else is around, Rat.

"Come now," Ashsky said to Outlander. "We're going on a hunt, and I need you as a spook wolf to seperate the herd."

Outlander looked up, and whether it was exauhstion or pain, when she looked up at the beta, she saw blue, half-dead eyes staring at her from a body of bones, losely held together by skin. Her heart fluttered and she blinked hard again, seeing nothing but a confused gray wolf staring back at her.

"I'm coming," she muttered, padding out of the den in a dazed state.

~CL1

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