I own only my characters, like Saria, Kikyu, Naku etc. The rest are Miyazaki's.
Chapter 1: Birth
I don't know where I was born. My mother had separated from her mate. It was violent. As she stumbled away into the forest, dark red blood staining beautiful fur she collapsed in a hill side. She was young, foolish. She left her tribe, abandoned all of her bloodlines to bond with a lone wolf. Ironic. Bloodlines. Blood pooling in the forest. Wounds on her legs, her face, her chest, throat almost punctured. Her tail, bitten off. Life mates do not part. If one dies, than the other will not take a new mate. There are reasons for the code of bonding. The age you have to be. Mother was not a god; rather she was going to be the successor when her mother, my grandmother, died. But she was rash, and it was mating season. She did not think. There was a reason he was not in a pack. He was an outcast. A killer. But apparently a more mature, 80 year old wolf was able to seduce her. But it does not matter. In any case, Mother was too young to give birth. At 20 years, she was not prepared for the rigors of labor, much less with a torn femoral artery. All of what I say is from what I have been told. Mother was already dead when she gave birth. She was supposed to give birth to 14 pups, at the most. There were 19 of us. My first memory, before my eyes were even open, was a smiling face. The Shishigami, The Forest Spirit, was there. He gave me and my siblings life. But he also chose me. I was always bigger than my brothers and my sisters, smarter and stronger. Unlike their white and black spotted coats that my father had given them, mine was pure snow white. The most obvious sign was my tail. Or should I say tails? I was the only pup with two tails. I knew I would one day become a god. Almost 20 pups would be an immense challenge for a healthy mother to raise. She would need help from other members of the pack. But we had no mother. She had no pack. We could not even see. Our eyes were glued shut. We needed our mother's milk, but we did not have it. So instead we had to eat her carcass. It was a horrible thing to do, but we were wolfs. We were survivors. The pups that balked at the idea of us consuming her died. Only 8 of us had food. The other 11 died. Understand, we needed milk. Our stomachs could not handle just raw food. But the Shishigami was with us. He allowed us to consume raw food. We grew faster than we should have. Our eyes opened early. We had no names. Or so we thought. After half a year of life, we found a cave 20 yards from where we were born, where our mother died. As her dying effort, she had scratched out four names:
KIKYU
NAKU
SARIA
MORO
Why only four? She knew she would have a litter of over four pups. And who was who? As we looked closer at the writing, we could see that underneath each name, in exquisite detail, there was a carving of what we looked like…us. Carvings are not the right word. It looked like it had been gently melted in the cave wall. It was too neat for a dying wolf to make. I knew. It was the Shishigami. It was not a terrible trouble figuring out what our names were after we found the carvings. The markings for my brothers, Kikyu and Naku, and my sister, Saria, were, after close examination of the carvings, able to get their small brains around what they should be called. I had no trouble. For my carving had a wolf with two tails. My name was Moro.