Crescent's world is one of edges and sharp teeth and claws that scratch out of love. Her world is one of gestures and silence and the sounds of the forest, not words and shouts and music. It's filled with warm fur and soft breath that tickles her ears. She doesn't remember how she got here, just faded memories of boats that crash against rocks and tears that drip down onto her nose. All she knows is that she's here to stay.
It's a sticky summer day when her life changes.
She is traveling to the watering hole with the wolves, to sip from the icy depths and bathe in the cool water that chilled her to the bone. She slides into the frigid water and it feels heavenly on her burning skin. Her pack mother comes in and lets Crescent climb on her back and carries her around the pond, over to the waterfall that she loves.
Everything is calm until they arrive.
They're injured and loud and she wants to cover her ears, they hurt from the unexpected noise. Her pack members are wary and she wants to be wary too, but one of the intruders is tall and he's beautiful, with damp brown hair that sticks to his forehead and crystalline blue eyes, the color of the pond at high noon. He looks delicious, but she resists the urge to leap at him and lick his face.
The alpha of her pack growls quietly, and she is struck by his comment. These are humans, humans who attack and kill and destroy. She can't imagine how something that looks so kind could be so evil. He reaches for her and one of the wolves jumps at him and latches on to his leg. She screams.
She runs forward and pulls the canine off the human's leg, all the while sobbing. How could anyone hurt these kind people who just want to be safe? The wolf who attacked is confounded by her statement.
They're murderers, Crescent, he croaks. She doesn't care.
They banish her from the pack that very night.