Disclaimer: I do not own any of the featured Marvel characters. I do own Brie. Okay, that's over with.
There is something to be said about the lone wolf.
Wolves travel in packs. They help each other. They are a family. So why would one find a wolf all by itself?
Perhaps the wolf is dangerous, and it has been exiled from the pack; isolated from everything it once knew. And it travels alone, searching for food, for shelter, for survival...with each passing day.
Or maybe the wolf chose to be by itself. Maybe it realized it was better off as a loner, and that it could get more accomplished if it went solo.
But what if the wolf did not have a pack to begin with? What if it was simply an outcast from the day it was born and left on its own?
One thing is for sure. If a wolf is alone, there is a story behind the reasoning.
The excitement of the season's first snow is always seen through the faces of young children, as their earth is carpeted with a white blanked. And at first no one wants to step foot outside, leaving a mark in the snow and ruining the perfection of it all.
But out among the grounds of the Xavier Mansion, there was an animal that did not care about leaving her paw prints in the snow. The snow would soon melt, anyway, so she saw no harm in doing so. She ran, tiny snowball stuck in her gray fur, her padded feet feeling only a fraction of the cold. Her breath could be seen in foggy puffs before her muzzle.
The Mansion was soon in sight, and the snowfall was starting to get heavier. Brie was glad she had decided to turn in. She jumped over a fence, through the garden she had been told was off-limits, and onto the patio where she entered the building through a doggie-door. Brie slipped on the tile, skidding and crashing into a wall. She backed off, shaking herself free of the snow, and growled, "I thought someone was gonna put a mat here!"
"Sorry! I was washing it!" Jean Grey smiled. The mutant woman bent down to Brie's eye-level. "You didn't go in the garden, did you?"
Brie looked at the ceiling, avoiding her eyes.
Brie! Jean shouted at her mentally, using her telepathic power.
"I'm sorry, okay? But I was cold and the flowers are already dead. I mean, really."
As, yes. The X-Men Mansion. Brie had decided to stay months ago, when Spider-Man offered her help with her mutation. But that was the thing, wasn't it? Brie was not a mutant. Brie was a mythical creature that was not supposed to exist. A werewolf.
But, according to Professor Xavier himself, she was changing. He had told her that the wolf side of her was trying to take over, and that her human side was allowing it. He was unsure as to what this meant in the long run; it was possible she'd lose the ability to stand and even speak. But Brie did not worry about that. Not yet, anyway.
Brie walked into the kitchen, where Logan was leaning against the counter drinking a beer. He barked, startling him.
"Blasted dog!" He snapped.
"It's wolf. I keep telling you, Wolverine. I think you'd pay more attention." She trotted in front of him and sat. "Is there a legal drinking age for animals?"
"I dunno."
"If I beg, will you give me some?"
He laughed. "No. My beer. Go away."
She snorted. "Fine," she said. She shook herself again, the wet snow flying on Logan. She laughed, heading to her room. The door was always to be left a crack open, so she could squeeze her muzzle in and open it herself. She was about to listen to some music when there was a knock. It was Scott, who she called Cyclops because it sounded cooler.
"The Professor wants to see you."
"Oh yeah?"
"His office. Five minutes."
Brie nodded and smiled. It was weird--seeing a dog smile. But Scott Summers left to find Jean, as their little romance was no secret. Brie groaned. If the Professor wanted to see her, that meant there was news. Mostly, it was bad news. And Brie just was not in the mood for more bad news.