P R O L O G U E

"A monster is only a monster if you see it as one."

_

A place could be beautiful at one glance, but with every good thing, there is a darkness that accompanies it. It's a natural balance, a universal scale that cradles the light and shadow.

There will always be two halves that make a whole, and with that comes the smaller pieces which molds each of them to fit the perfect shape. A butterfly, a delicate specimen that has both wings equal to each other can be thrown into obscurity if one is damaged. It resembles the tipping of a scale, as more weight is added to the other basin. The mishap could change everything, and no one could do anything about it.

It's events like here on this day, that can forever shift a path one could be treading on.

Golden rays from the sun broke through the few little clouds that drifted in the open blue, reaching down with otherworldly radiance to caress the city and people within it. The hands of light were felt differently by each individual, but for most the greeting was far too warm. Each noise that was made opened the area to a new kind of peaceful joy; a laugh, the whisper of wind against leaves, hooves of horses clicking among the cobblestone and thumps of the children who ran freely.

People bustled amidst each other, visiting and minding their own. Families held hands, young ones swinging their arms as they laughed into the humid air. The sight of Asgard and the souls that inhabited the kingdom was a special sort of beauty, and that in itself was worth more than gold or diamond shards.

While the sun bared down on the people, hard working men lugged around their cargo and one by one wiped beads of sweat from their faces. There was no time for some to spend leisurely, but once again, the social scale was balanced. Another being, however, looked upon the scene in admiration.

The creature sat in a shady corner, her thick black coat soaking in the dreaded heat as her tongue lolled from the side of her mouth. Her chest was heavy and her eyes were clouded with exhaustion, leaving Fenrir to rest next to a building she hadn't ever paid much attention to. Slipping down to lie on her belly, the gravel felt cool against her stomach. Watching on with lazily perked ears, her gaze traveled over the faces that hadn't noticed her presence.

She barely ever left the palace, mostly due to the fear of how the people would react to a wolf lurking amongst them on the crowded streets. The distance between her and the others at least made her a little content, although she wished to walk beside them. Fenrir wondered what it would be like to look mundane, with hands and feet, fingers and toes, no tail and walking upright.

Stretching her long limbs before opening her jaws to yawn, the wolf flicked her tail against the ground. Having such a dark coat in this weather made her think about asking her father, or anyone for the matter, to clip it. Like everyone else in the palace, she was groomed daily, but the cutting of her fur would have disappointed her father. Maybe it wouldn't be best to ask him, she thought, crossing her large paws as she settled back down and lowered her head to rest on them.

The noise from the people slowly became a gentle hum, lulling her tired eyes to close. The atmosphere surrounded her with a sudden cool breeze that swept against the ground, and she had nearly fallen to sleep until a sharp gasp jolted her awake. It was an unusual sound, one she had only heard once or twice before. An intake of air so sudden it spoke louder than any words imaginable. A gasp like that either meant fear or surprise, there were no other ways to explain it.

Eyes pulled wide open and confused, she shook her large head to clear away the blurriness. Blinking while her vision settled, Fenrir was taken back by what stood before her. Sitting up, the wolf's ears pushed back against her skull as she tucked her tail between her legs. It was rare that a pair of strangers would approach her, in fact it just never happened.

Fenrir pushed herself closer to the stone wall, almost as if she were to mold with the rock and wood and became one with the structure. The children looked about nine or ten, the two of them having obvious differences.

To the right, the oldest boy had long, dark red hair that curled tightly in most places but loosened in others. His skin was decorated by freckles and his eyes were a dark chocolate brown. He was a bit taller than the other who accompanied him, and was fuller in the face. A couple scars littered his forehead and chin, however none looked to be too serious. His brows were raised, and an emotion she couldn't read lingered upon his face.

Beside him stood a blond boy with hazel eyes, his skin darker than the other's but not by much. He had a scar above his right brow and a small cut on the corner of his lower lip. Their clothes were dirty, and she had an understanding that children had a tendency to get into things, but something was off about the two. They didn't look scared of her, which was a surprise. Nor did they have lingering parents to pull them away from her.

"Pretty..." the red haired boy stepped forward, reaching his hand out to the black wolf. She was bewildered by the action, and guessed he thought she was just a regular dog. Fenrir sat still, watching his hand as it drew closer to her pelt. It took more than enough energy to stay still and not shake. She lived with gods, how could a child frighten the daughter of Loki? Perhaps, it was the fact she hadn't been around children, or that the weary eyes of other residents of the palace made her self conscious. Point being, she didn't know what to do.

His fingers combed through the fur on her shoulder, and oddly enough, she enjoyed it. Licking her coal colored lips, she faked a yawn to show her teeth, thinking the display would bring a little more caution to the boys. It didn't. The blond moved in to poke at her ear, which flickered at his touch. How are they so... calm? I am a complete danger to them!Fenrir leaned her head away from the blond's hand, a sharp exhale of breath leaving her nostrils. Sitting up further, Fenrir had to look down slightly to meet their gaze. It was to no avail, they stayed put where they were. Either they were naive, or stupidly brave.

"Did your mothers not teach you about personal space, or about strangers?" Fenrir rose a brow, tilting her head slightly. There we go, she chuckled at their shocked expressions. "Never seen a wolf that could speak?"

Both of the boys shook their heads quickly, taking back their hands as if being scolded. The black canine stood, reaching her full height. Their eyes rose until their heads had to be tilted, their jaws dropping in awe. She licked her lips again, this time leaning in to inspect their faces. Scrunching her nose, she moved back.

"Your breath smells of onions," to what she said, their faces turned scarlet.

"We..." the red haired boy started, taking hold of his tunic and twisting it in his hands," we haven't anything else..." for a moment, the boy looked as if he would cry. Worry began to seep into Fenrir's blue-green gaze. She stepped forward, pressing her nose to his forehead.

A hum danced in her throat, and she barely flinched when his hands touched the fur of her neck. "Do not fret," the wolf's voice was gentle," I understand."

Pulling away, the boy wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "My name is Ingmar and he is Kari," the freckled one sniffed harshly, as if the poor lad was congested. Fenrir flinched at the tough sound, but gave him a toothy, wolf grin.

"I am Fenrir."