It was supposedly a wolf's purpose in life to mate, reproduce, and lead his or her pack to a fulfilling life. But Giles would have none of it; that was all prep junk.
He had loved once, but it seemed so long ago. Once, when he had been a tweed-furred wolf, he had loved a wolf named Jenny. But the evil vampire-grizzly Angelus had interfered and broken his heart. Just as his soul turned jet-black, so did his matted fur. His calm, peaceful eyes, once green, were now a deep crimson. He wore a spiked collar around his neck, and his ears were pierced numerous times, each piercing bearing a logo from one of his favorite gothic bands. He would never love again.
No, instead he was now dedicated to the life of a goth. It was for the best, really. Jenny had been no goth, and she had made him happy, of all things. He had hunted elk from the Tweed Herd, rather than the Hot Topic Herd. But now, his days of being a Tweed-eating watcher were over. Black and red were his favorite colors, and he was totally depressed now. That prep Buffy would have to fend for herself; she wasn't gothic enough for him. All she cared about was having nice claws, shopping for the most fashionable elk to eat, and getting a hot date.
And she had fallen for Angelus of all people! Granted, Angelus had been the cause for the black wolf's revelation, seeing the darkness for the first time, but he was still a poser. He acted big as a vampire-grizzly, but he was such a wanker about it. When he had a soul, he was absolutely pathetic; without a soul, he still had no guts. Oh, yes, he tortured Giles once. It had been quite glorious, in fact, full of blood and pain. But he didn't act and do the real evil things he should have done. He spent too much time with torture, and yet had only truly struck the Wolfy Gang once, with Jenny's death.
No; a real gothic wolf would avoid crosses – Giles shuddered at the thought of the shape – and stakes, and revel in blood and death not for fun or simply because one is a vampire-grizzly, but because Satan demanded it.
Nevertheless, a true goth would aim for the transformation to vampire-grizzly. Giles's soul was black already, but he would need the help of another vampire-grizzly in order to make the full change, and he knew exactly whom to turn to: Spike.
Despite having bleach-blond fur, Spike's soul was far blacker than Giles's. And he knew how to act on his impulses, too. Spike could kill when necessary, and didn't waste time on "fun." Fun was for preps, anyway. Depression was what made life worth living. Listening to Good Charlotte, MCR, and Evanescence was what made life worth living.
No, Spike's worship of Satan was pure, and Giles wanted his help in reaching a true gothic state. He wasn't too big on his crazy girlfriend, Drusilla…she was a poser. She dressed the part, but her soul was not truly black; she was just nuts. Spike was so blinded by his love for her that he didn't realize who she truly was. Giles couldn't imagine what the revelation would do to him. To realize that one is dating a poser is truly the worst fate.
Giles looked into the miserable sky, contemplating what he needed to do. Despite it being midday, the sun was nowhere to be found in the sky, thankfully. It was smothered by dark gray clouds. It was such a dim, gloomy day, and Giles took the glory of it all in. This was such a beautiful, depressing day, and the perfect day to set out on his journey to the cave in the side of Onyx Mountain. (It had once been called Amethyst Mountain, but purple is for preps. Spike had changed its name to Onyx Mountain, being the goth that he was.) That was surely where he would find Spike, hiding out with Drusilla.
Angelus would, fortunately, not be there to interfere; Spike had aided Buffy in sabotaging his plans to bring Hell onto Earth, leaving Angelus in Hell. This was an unfortunate side-effect, but it was preferable to have Angelus unfairly enjoying the depression of Hell if it meant stopping Hell from coming upon Earth in its entirety. Buffy, being a prep, stopped this from happening because she was too afraid of Hell. She probably would have broken a nail. But Giles knew better about Spike; he didn't want Hell on Earth because that would mean that even the preps would get to experience the doom of Hell, and such a thing is only reserved for the true goths.
The black wolf, feeling the depression of the day, used his sharp claws to slit his ankles, all four of them. Now he was ready to venture off to Onyx Mountain. He was ready to join the ranks of the true goths.