A/n: Hey, it's me. I don't really know what to say about this story. It's kind of a different approach to all of the female/Mary Sue OC's out there. I'm not bagging on any of the good female OC's (like the one in SwingBlue's Moon's Herald - read it now, people, it's good stuff), but you don't see any male OC's, so I went ahead and made one. Mwa ha. There will be some BlueOC stuff in upcoming chapters, so consider yourself forewarned! Well . . . yeah. Hope you enjoy it.

I lost count of how many times I tried to escape from that place. No matter how far I ran, or how cunningly I hid, I was always dragged back, snarling and struggling. I didn't know how they could find me time after time, or why they didn't just find themselves a new guard dog for that rotting, decaying place they called a junkyard. They knew that I hated them with all the hatred any one creature was capable of, but it didn't matter. They simply took that hate within me and used it for themselves.

Had Ceede or Hann been kinder, or I had been all dog instead of half wolf, I would have submitted with less resistance, maybe even with a wagging tail. As it was, the wolf side of me didn't take kindly to being shut in the junkyard, and I made sure my displeasure was known every time either of them showed their faces anywhere near me. They would usually curse and kick me, but I knew their rough language was a cover for their fear – I could smell it on them. When I bared my fangs at them, the reek of terror covered any other scent, and in this I took a small amount of satisfaction.

I had been trapped in this dump for several years now (I'd lost count), and I still refused to bend under the iron rule of Ceede, lord of garbage, sovereign of all things junk. To him I was a necessary evil . . . to me, he was Evil itself. I loathed his existence, and he grudgingly accepted mine for the fact that I guarded his beloved junkyard, though against my will. In a way, we were even.

" Hey you!" Ceede's hateful voice snapped me out of my reverie, and I looked up to see him standing on the other side of the barbed-wire fence holding a battered baseball bat. The same bat he carried with him whenever he was inside my junkyard. That's right: my junkyard. I ruled here, and all trespassers were punished without mercy. I had long ago taught Hann the error of walking unarmed through my domain and he just outright refused to set foot in here anymore. Ceede had been a little more stubborn in accepting the fact, and the scar that ran the length of his left arm was testament to this.

Of course, he had on multiple occasions taken the opportunity of my being chained up to beat me senseless, so I guess my claim on the junkyard could still be debated.

Now, I sat on my haunches glaring at Ceede, and he was glaring right back, tapping his bat on his leg as though he'd like nothing better than to come right in and show me how well he could swing it.

Ceede was the older of the two brothers; at least I thought they were brothers, though they looked nothing alike. Ceede was a tall, lanky man with a grim face and a constant scowl on his face. He was rough and violent at the best of times, but he was shrewd and knew how to drive a hard bargain. While I despised his very existence, I did respect the fact that he was smart . . . for a human.

Hann was another story altogether, the complete opposite of his brother: a follower, a lackey. He did as he was told and never bothered to think about the "why" of the matter. He was built like a keg – short and round . . . but not fat. There was no way in the world anyone could get fat off the food in these parts, scarce as it was. But it didn't look as though this had caused him to miss any meals. Now he stood peeking out from behind his brother, not daring to venture any closer without some sort of firearm on his person . . . and too bad for him, neither of them owned one.

" Off your keister, mutt!" Ceede yelled again, brandishing the bat again in what he thought was a threatening gesture. I made a point of blandly looking in another direction and lolling my tongue out as though I was laughing. This insignificant gesture infuriated Ceede.

Through the chain-link he snarled, " Think you're funny? I'll show you funny, you arrogant little – "

He threw the door open and stormed inside. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as he stopped a little behind me and raised the bat to strike, thinking that I wasn't looking. But I was ready for him. Oh boy, was I ready.

I'd been waiting all day for this.

I spun around and gathered myself like a coiled snake before lunging the length of the chain, ignoring the already-tight steel collar suddenly yank on my throat as I reached the end, then sank my fangs into Ceede's unprotected shoulder. He wouldn't be able to swing that bat for another week or so, and I made sure to add another couple of days onto that reckoning by biting down harder, getting rewarded with a howl of pain from Ceede, followed immediately by his heavy boot catching me in the ribs.

I let go and sprang off to the side before he could kick me again. He had dropped the bat and was clutching his shoulder, which to my eternal satisfaction I saw was dripping with blood. He staggered upright, and I watched him closely, to see if I could get another shot in. His teeth were gritted together in pain, but his eyes were blazing with fury.

" Cursed . . . half-breed," he growled. " Just like the rest of your kind . . . You'll get yours one day . . . "

And you will too, I sneered in the back of my mind. Karma'll come around and bite you in the bum.

He suddenly whirled and hollered at a baffled Hann, " What did you say?"

" I . . . I didn't say anything," Hann answered slowly, scratching his stomach.

Ceede swore under his breath and stayed facing him for a few moments, nursing his injured shoulder. I leapt forward again, but this time he jumped aside and caught my head with his heel as I passed. I tumbled in mid-air and came crashing down heavily on my side. He was waiting for me.

The steel-shod toe of his boot exploded in my gut with the force of a battering ram, and I let out an involuntary barking yelp as the air burst from my lungs. He didn't wait for me to regain my breath but began lighting into me with furious vengeance, alternating feet, making sure he got every square inch of me before taking a breather.

By this time, I was a mess. My body was so bruised I could hardly move my head out of the blood puddle forming around it. But I sure had the energy to snarl . . . so snarl I did. Ceede met my defiance with a vicious kick that sent me spinning in the dirt and filth of the yard.

" Um . . . Ceede?" Hann was watching with wide eyes. " Do . . . do you think that's a good idea, to beat the dog up like that? I mean, he is guarding our stuff and all . . . "

Ceede had his leg hauled back, ready to belt me again, and I was watching that steel-plated toe with glazed eyes, half-hoping that it would send me into blissful oblivion, yet at the same time dreading that it would. He looked down at me, and paused just a few moments, evidently taking in Hann's words. Some days, Ceede made slugs look like speed demons.

After a moment's consideration he decided it wouldn't be worth his while to pick up a new animal for his junkyard in the instance that I ceased functioning. He lowered his foot, and looked down at me.

" Hope you've learned your lesson, mutt," he growled, taking in my battered and disheveled state. " Next time, though, chances are I won't be so forgiving."

I managed a weak snarl. Forgiving? Don't make me laugh.

He stomped around my prone figure and retrieved his bat, then marched out of the yard, lingering long enough to throw me a victorious glare. He stood outlined against the eternally overcast sky like a shadow of Death itself . . . and with his gaunt frame, he sure looked the part.

" You know the routine, trash," he sneered. " Keep this place locked down tight, or it's your hide I'll take it out of in the morning." He closed the gate with a clang, and I could hear Hann trying to inspect the wound so he could treat it.

The sounds of their arguing and protesting faded into the distance, disappearing altogether as they went into the ramshackle, cast-off trailer they called home. When I couldn't hear them anymore I stirred, shakily pushing myself up into a half-sitting, half-sprawling position. From there I surveyed the sorry state of the junkyard around me for the countless time.

The single window of the trailer glowed a weak orange as one of them turned on a light. I disgustedly turned away from that direction and focused on a new spot on the horizon, where the sun must have set a few minutes ago.

A light breeze wafted various scents and smells into my aching nose, and I automatically catalogued them in my head: there, a little bit of machine oil; and that one had to be some old dead drunky out in the wilderness . . . I picked up other scents too, ones that seemed familiar, or at least that I should have been able to pick up on, but for some reason or another I couldn't think of it at the moment. I managed to rally myself to stagger the dozen or so feet to a worn spot under a car fender, which I used as a place to sleep most nights. Ceede in his everlasting kindness hadn't thought of giving me a decent shelter.

I padded into my sleeping quarters painfully, feeling every spot in my body where that steel in his boot had connected. I lowered myself onto the ground, barely able to suppress a soft groan as my bruises and gashes protested.

I gingerly laid my head down on my paws and tried to relax, but as time wore on and my wounds began to stiffen, I gave up and remained staring out at the gloomy night sky. It was cold tonight, and I could see my breath frosting in the air as I panted, trying in vain to force my pain aside and think of something else.

It was hard; all I could think about right now was sinking my fangs into Ceede's throat, and feeling his blood bathe my muzzle and run down my jaws. Not what you'd call soothing or pleasant thoughts, but I was cold, hungry, and in a lot of pain. I wasn't feeling particularly soothed or pleasant at the moment.

Most nights I made it a habit to get up and pad around the yard at least once a night. It was an old habit, from when I was a pup trying to please my master. I would do everything he told me, from barking at strangers to lunging against the fence with all the ferocity a puppy my age could muster . . . you name it. What threw the monkey wrench in the works was discovering that I had a wolf side. That did it for Ceede. Like most of the ill-informed serfs in these parts, he was superstitious about wolves, and treated me like some kind of disease afterward.

Now, full-grown, bitter and disillusioned, I could care less about pleasing that trash. I cast a weary glance around the yard. No intruders. What a surprise. I'd bet Ceede would be proud of me, I though sourly. I kept this yard relatively vermin-free, whether rodent or otherwise, simply because it kept me from going insane from boredom. I couldn't recall the last time I'd been out free. Maybe all those blows to the head were starting to affect my memory. But for as long as I could remember, I'd been in this miserable place.

I turned to lick the blood running from my shoulder, but my aching side punished me after a while, so I stopped and rested my head on my paws again. Some time passed. Around midnight, a hushed whisper – the beat of silent wings – made me prick one ear, though I didn't look up.

A smooth, smiling voice cut into my thoughts.

Well, well . . . don't you look marvelous as always, it said, then chuckled regretfully.

I made it a point to keep staring straight ahead. The voice persisted.

What? Not going to greet me? Or even say Good evening? Just a hello would be nice.

I didn't say anything. Finally I heard an amused sigh of frustration, and the slight click of talons releasing the chain link fence. A dark shape whooshed over my head and landed in front of my nose. A scaled and taloned claw poked the tip of my nose curiously.

You still alive in there? the raven asked, dipping his head to look at me more closely.

Barely, I growled, then winced. He shook his head, seeing my injuries.

What'd you do this time? Bite his leg? Steal his underpants?

No, I answered, trying to let the pain show on my face. I just nipped him on the shoulder, that's all.

Yeah, right, he snorted, and laughed. Your "nips" are anything but.

I only laid my ears back and let out a sharp huff. The large black bird hopped sideways, out of my breath's fog, and cocked his head.

The only one who's suffering from being in this dump is you, Ren, he said softly.

I knew he was pitying me, and that irritated me to no extent.

I'm fine, I replied shortly. I told you, I've tried escaping before. I've tried hiding everywhere I can think of. I've hid everywhere I couldn't think of, and yet, they still find me! They could get a half dozen other mutts to slink about this place, and yet they insist on keeping me!

You haven't tried the cities, have you? he asked, hopping up and taking a seat next to my ear. I rolled my eyes.

Yeah, of course. Why didn't I think of that before? I wondered dryly. Hm . . . because it's suicide? You know people in the cities are more paranoid than these country hicks. If I'm lucky, I'll get caught and put down and out of my misery. I chuckled humorlessly at the thought. Although, it'd be better than staying here.

The raven was silent for a few minutes. I've seen them, he said at length, speaking with such seriousness that I half-raised my head from my paws to look at him in surprise.

You've been raiding the saloon garbage cans again, haven't you? I've told you to stop drinking, it'll only mess up your flight pattern –

No! he interrupted me. I've seen them, don't you get it?

Call me dense, but I honestly had no idea what he was talking about.

Seen what? I asked, more than a little irritated with his cryptic outbursts.

Wolves, he answered slowly. In the city . . .

I felt my heart skip a beat at the mention of my kind. Well, partly my kind. I had secretly wished I could be full wolf instead of just part, and I liked to think that the wolf side of me held a larger part in my genetics. And, given my rebellious attitude, it was likely.

Wolves? I repeated. But why would they be in the city? Are they insane? That's just asking for trouble! I lifted my head up to stare at him. They ought to know they'll be shot and sight and questions asked later! What's their deal?

The raven shook his head and leaned closer to me as though Ceede or Hann would be listening in to some deep secret he was about to impart to me. Didn't the fool know the humans couldn't understand us?

They can alter their appearances, he whispered, looking over his shoulder. They have the ability to hide themselves . . . by looking like humans.

How do they do that? I asked in wonder, but at the same time thinking it was ridiculous. Wolves passing as humans? What the heck?

And anyways, I continued, my dubiousness returning to me, What happens if they get questioned? Humans can't understand us.

The raven smiled knowingly. You would think so, wouldn't you? he said wryly. But the wolves can make themselves heard by humans and can talk to them. . . it's the ultimate disguise. And it sure comes in handy, too, he added with a smirk. There's this one wolf up north that makes a living out of robbing trains . . . with a gang of humans at his beck and call! Isn't that something?

Yeah, it is, I muttered distractedly, lost in my own thoughts. So wolves could – supposedly – hide themselves and pass as humans? Sounded a little far-fetched to me, and I still hadn't completely discredited my former theory that my little flying friend had found a little too much booze in the saloon dump.

Still, if it was true . . . and wolves could mingle with humans and not get caught, then maybe I'd found the perfect solution to my dilemma.

A/n: Well, there it is. Chapter one in all of its fully uploaded glory. Questions about the plot? Complaints? Suggestions? Rants? Feel free to contact me, either through the review, or my e-mail, I don't care. :) I hope you liked it, and I shall see you next time! Same Dom-time, same Dom-place!

It's a Megatokyo joke; if you don't get it, then don't worry about it. :)