A/N: Hello everybody! This is one of several one-shots I've written ahead of time (when I should be working on my current story, A Choice of Faults, but I digress) and I just want to see what you guys think of it! Depending on several factors, I may make this a part of a sequel, in which I eagerly urge you to read A Choice of Faults so that you may understand the events of the story, or this may become its own separate story.

Personally, I'm super excited about this OC! His name is Lykos (pronounced "LEE-koh-ss," or "LEAK-oh-ss" if that helps), derivative of the Greek word "λύκος" meaning Wolf. I drew him for the cover of this one-shot in case you were curious. I really want to use him in a story and I think it'd be awesome to see him interact with the canon characters. :D

P.S. - Jack Frost cameo at the end. ;)

The Boy Who Cried "Wolf!"

They said the Boy Who Cried "Wolf!" was just a story. That he was a young shepherd who was bored out of his mind─ well, that part's true, but never mind that now. They said he cried out several times at the expense of pestering the older folk in his village. Yet there was never a wolf there. Warning him not to lie to them again, they refused to heed his call another time. And that was the time in which─ of course─ there was an actual wolf. And for the boy's poor obedience skills, he was eaten by the bloodthirsty beast and not seen the next day. Well, except for some bloody entrails that no one could decipher. Little did anyone suspect that there had been a second wolf, after the shepherd boy had already disappeared, that had actually taken a liking to one of the choice lambs in the herd and scrambled the guts across the shepherd's rock.

What idiots! Had they known there had been a different wolf amongst their sheep, they would have believed him. But that wolf was imaginary, they said. Imaginary! One that only the twelve-year-old boy could see.

When people tell this story today, they neglect the more important parts of the story─ whether they know those other parts to be true or are entirely ignorant of the matter─ that change the meaning entirely. First and foremost, they never mention the time frame. The true story took place over several months, and the boy only called out frequently within the first several weeks. The boy was frightened the first time because he expected the ordinary. He expected the growl and the claws and the gleam of white fangs. He yelped before it had a chance to shift back into a sheep. As scared as the boy was, his memory suffered. Details of the supposed attack were weary and strained. Many disregarded him, saying that he had been asleep. O foolish boy! He cannot tell dream from reality!

But of course, the wolf appeared a second time. The boy, instead of yelling─ because he had indeed listened to his elders' advice─ and calling after the others, watched to see what it would do. The wolf morphed from one of the sheep and sauntered closer to the boy. It ignored the sheep! The plentiful, healthy, meaty sheep would have fulfilled a wolf's appetite for weeks. Alas, the mindless walking wool paid no mind to the wolf and the wolf paid no mind to them.

It had a deep black coat with long hair. On its chest was a tiny tuft of white, so small that it seemed to be only made of a few precious hairs. The paws were as big as a lamb's head, if not larger. Muscles rippled, causing fur to stick up in places that constricted and relaxed rapidly. It's enormous tail was raised low, pointed outward in patient intrigue. The ears were large and wide, easily picking up the boy's rapid heart rate. Its mouth was open slightly, tasting the fear in the otherwise light mountain air. But what the boy truly stared at were its eyes. They were a pale yellow that did not seem animalistic in the sense that there was obviously a wolf in front of him, but wild and disconcerting all the same. Sparks of fire roared in the wolf's irises and the specks danced gracefully in its steady gaze.

Are you scared, young boy? The wolf's growl sounded utterly human. The boy quivered in fear but shook his head despite his better judgment. Boo!

That was when the boy cried "Wolf!" a second time. Chuckling at his response, the wolf dissipated and the boy was left alone to explain himself with little evidence yet again. Each time the wolf visited, however, the boy allowed it to come a little closer, speak a little longer, and he became less and less afraid. The wolf spoke of many things─ strange things that no one could ever believe─ and the boy became more and more receptive to what should have been considered insane. It all sounded wondrous! Flying fairies and oversized rabbits and spirits of all kinds! All guided by a man on the moon! Impossible, surely? No? Could they grant wishes? Could they speak? Could they be seen?

Most certainly, young shepherd, the wolf lay in the grass, basking in sunlight. Looking at him─ the voice belonged to a male─ from far away made it seem like he was a simple herding dog, if not for the fact that the wolf was enormous in all proportions and stood taller than the young boy himself. The shepherd lay on his stomach with his legs crossed at the ankles in the air behind him. He was chewing on a piece of straw he'd plucked from a bale earlier that morning. His light blond hair was long and curled at the ends, piecing in thick chunks across his face. But only to those with open hearts.

"Is my heart open?" wide brown eyes yearned for answers.

Seeing as it is still within your ribcage, I would not say so literally. The canine rumbled a low laugh. And yet, you do seem to possess several qualities... come. I will show you of whom I do speak. The gigantic black wolf stood and shook his coat. And so the boy followed.

Up past the fences was seldom traveled, not even by desperate hunters. The woods of these parts were dense and ominous. The boy fretted for awhile at the entrance, but the wolf's promises led him onward, stepping his bare feet into territory not known to humans. The tree branches overhead twisted and sprouted upward in haphazard patterns. The sky became a thousand puzzles pieces and the path grew dimmer with each pace. The wolf kept on ahead of the boy, plodding through the thick undergrowth with practiced ease. His tail flicked left or right to alert the boy of their next turn, and soon the boy became lost. The natural sense of direction that shepherds prided themselves of having began to falter. The boy's feet stilled and turned away from the planned direction. He looked back to where they had come from, but there was nothing except dark green foliage and flaky tree trunks. No light came from anywhere, and yet the boy was not blinded. A soft glow was everywhere and nowhere all at once. Turning again, he saw that the wolf had disappeared.

"Wolf!" he cried. "Wolf! I've lost you!" This was the last time the villagers would have heard the boy cry.

This way, young one, the ethereal voice beckoned from somewhere up ahead. The boy could not be sure, but he treaded forward in faith that the wolf would not lose him on purpose. As he turned past an old oak tree, a wide clearing was suddenly visible. On one side lay a small, gentle waterfall that poured over smooth river stones and caressed the lush grass that bent over the banks. Small orange and yellow flowers dotted the opposite side where the wolf sat with a regal posture, head facing straight forward and its paws tucked neatly under its tail that curled toward the front. A little pool was created beside the waterfall, where the sand was soft and stones were larger than a pebble were not present. The boy was instantly drawn to the spot, and he lay on his knees beside the water's surface. Yet he dared not to touch it.

You have shown more promise than those before, the wolf stated with a hint of interest. Please, look in the water's reflection. What do you see?

"I see my─" the boy's speech was silenced by what he saw. The full moon shifted under the ripples of the waterfall and the boy glanced upward. It was indeed the middle of the night. But how could that have been? It was a bright and sunny midday when they had ventured into the forest, and it did not seem like any longer than an hour had passed. "The moon, Wolf, I see the moon."

Is it full?

"Y-yes..."

Then let it speak.

The boy's brows furrowed and he was about to ask what the wolf meant when the moon's gleam brightened the pool considerably. The boy heard another voice. It was soft and careful, otherworldly. Was this a fairy? Was this a spirit? He wondered silently as he listened.

It told him that he was not like other mortals. Indeed, if he wished, he could be more than a mortal. A balance was needed in the world, and the boy would tip the scales closer to equilibrium. Some things had already been decided, but the boy had the final choice. Which way would he step? Back to his pasture? Or would he serve under guidance of the Man in the Moon?

Eager to be rid of his boredom, the boy agreed.

So be it. The air whisked around them hurriedly. The young shepherd was lifted into the sky, his feet kicking at the sudden loss of gravity. When he was raised above the trees, the moon shone brightly upon him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the black wolf move to the center of the meadow below him. All noise settled and the wind died down, but the boy was still suspended in the cool night air. A celestial howl echoed a hallowed song through the woods, and everything the boy knew changed. Landing softly on the grass once more, the boy collapsed onto his knees with his palms in the pool. He opened his eyes in shock to see the reflection staring back at him had changed. His blond hair was now a midnight blue that curled a frame around his features. His eyes were no longer brown, but a slow churning yellow─ the same as the wolf's. The boy cleared his throat in wonder.

Your name is Lykos. Fenrir will be your Familiar to help aide you in your new life...

There is a plan for you yet.

Six hundred years had passed and never had the boy been less bored. Lykos sat atop a telephone pole, legs dangling over the transformer. His back was hunched over, hiding the bright orange glow of his cigarette. Taking a deep drag, it burned a little brighter as the embers climbed up the rolled paper. The boy tilted his head upward and let out a slow exhale, watching the smoke curl into the humid desert air. The chemicals mixed in his centuries-old brain, creating a state of temporary euphoria. There were few human indulgences to which he could treat himself, and this was one of them.

Another thing he cherished was unfolding below him on the street. Fenrir had taken form of a chupacabra in a wayward Mexican village, as per Lykos's request, and proceeded to play with people's fears. It was always entertaining to watch the locals, when isolated, react in panic. But as soon as others came around, the sole witness was deemed insane. It was always harmless fun, but it gave them each a thrill.

Finished with his job, the wolf appeared balancing on the telephone wires. His giant paws looked ridiculously inept for the feat, and yet the black wolf padded along the electrical wires with little effort. Gliding around to the side of Lykos that wasn't encapsulated in smoke, a low rumble could be heard deep in his chest.

You really shouldn't subject yourself to such poison. The wolf shook its fur and red sparks showered to the sandy plane below, remnants of his transformation. But his words fell on deaf ears as Lykos took another drag.

"What? It's not like I'll die," the boy laughed, exhaling more lucid smoke against the dim night. "It'll take a lot more than a bunch of cigarettes to do that. You wanna head back north? These ninety-degree-nights are killing me."

I feel most unwell here. The snowy landscapes suit my taste more so than anywhere else.

"Why didn't you say so?" Lykos took one last drag and tossed the butt away carelessly. "We should be there by morning if we hurry. Whaddya say?"

Fenrir stood and bowed his head, his shoulder muscles ready to pounce at Lykos's word. Hopping onto the black wolf's back, Lykos clicked his tongue and off the telephone pole they went through the desert. The rhythmic gallop with which the wolf strode lulled the boy into a calm and carefree state of bliss. This had always been his favorite part of his new life─ something he still called it despite being in this new life for far longer than he had ever been alive in his old life. The wind ruffled his hair and the fur whipped playfully against his cheeks. Calloused fingers kneaded through the long black hairs and clutched them carefully so that he wouldn't fall off when he wasn't paying attention. It was much like riding a horse bareback, but something about it was freer than that. Perhaps it was the fact that they were faster than any living animal on earth. Flight would have been a better reference, but Lykos didn't know what it was like to fly. Fenrir refused to morph into any kind of bird, but never elaborated on the subject as to why that was the case. Nevertheless, the transportation was nice and relatively efficient. The pair reached the Rocky Mountains just as the sun was rising over the snow-capped peaks.

Clambering off Fenrir's back, Lykos stretched his arms toward the pale sky and shook himself at the same time Fenrir shook his coat. The air smelled wonderful here, like pine and simply clean air.

I think so as well, the wolf murmured, hearing his thoughts. They had this sort of connection ingrained in them since they were first paired, six hundred years ago. Granted, the skill took time to perfect, and it was still rather inefficient. Feelings were shared and mixed between them so often they were never sure which one of them actually felt something uniquely their own. However, the next thought that surged through the air had the wolf growling. Don't you dare─

Too late. Lykos had already lit another cigarette from his pack and lighter he hid in his fur-lined jacket. Before he took a full drag, the boy coughed a fit of laughter at the wolf's uproar. "Relax, Fen. It's the last in the pack," he tossed the little box down the hill and flicked some ash from the end.

The wolf exhaled in disgust and rolled his eyes, turning away from the boy. Readying his stance, Fenrir jumped over thirty feet and landed atop a small cliff overlooking the valley below. You can come up when you're done.

"Are you running out of punishments?" Lykos smirked as he sucked in more filtered chemicals.

I'm running out of reasons to care, the wolf huffed and rolled over in the snow melodramatically. Lykos laughed and continued to smoke in chilled silence.

He stood in light, fluffy snow that covered his shins. Craning his neck upward, he watched the smoke rise slowly into the air, swirling in lazy motions. What was next for the tricksters? Cities were fun, but it was often hard to keep people separate for long. Not to mention seeing a wolf in a populated area was never easy to explain. Of course, the rules of being seen in this world were veiled. Lykos himself was hardly seen, no matter how hard he tried. even when he was seen, it was never for very long. Of course, that's how they had stylized their pranks. Fenrir said being permanently seen by a handful would take practice, but after six hundred years, the boy was a little more than doubtful. He'd heard a few years ago that a certain winter spirit had gained a believer somewhere out east at the relative young age of three hundred years, among other interesting stories.

It frustrated the boy to no end. Lykos had been searching out the winter spirit, known as Jack Frost, for awhile now in the hopes that he could find a new way to make people see him, perhaps even believe in him. But the damn guy was so elusive. Lykos inquired about him to the other spirits, but found next to nothing. Rumor was something regarding the Boogeyman and the Guardians had transpired. Some had spotted black sand being conjured and others said they saw scarily thin and wispy horses with bright yellow eyes parading their darkness around a smaller town toward the Appalachians. Lykos had debated checking it out, but he didn't want Fenrir to be mistaken for one of the bad guys. Not that Fenrir couldn't defend himself, but Lykos felt a sense of obligation to protect his Familiar. It was a mutual bond they shared and the boy didn't want to risk it. Apparently, the Boogeyman had disappeared shortly afterward and it would have been pointless for them to have visited.

Meeting the Guardians wasn't exactly high on their list either. North occasionally called them to the North Pole for reprimands, which they regularly skipped out on after they found out what the big guy had planned. Causing more trouble directly in front of the Guardians would have been a poor decision. They'd only met the other Guardians a handful of times, and they were normally chased away. Lykos didn't understand what was so special about them. They seemed all too high and mighty for his taste. Even Fenrir─ older than all of them─ held a certain disdain for their being chosen. Fenrir had secretly hoped that the Man in the Moon had made Lykos and him a rank equal to the Guardians, but the celestial being hardly spoke to them after that day.

This Lykos that stood below Fenrir now was in fact the second Lykos in a line of perhaps many more to come. Fenrir hoped that wouldn't be the case, since this Lykos seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, despite some unnecessary decisions. They had been granted gifts of long life, among other things, but they were never granted a total reprieve from death. No one was allowed to have such a life, not even the Guardians. They could die in battle just as easily as any human could die from any number of circumstances. This was why the Lykos that was present now had grown into a young adult of about twenty years of age, although he had become Lykos at the younger age of twelve. The age process was slowed considerably for those with the title of the Wolf. The previous Lykos had grown full of himself and succumbed to the darkness a long time ago at an age older than most, but Fenrir never spoke of him. The current Lykos knew nothing of him, and Fenrir was going to keep it that way.

Lykos tossed his cigarette and picked up some fresh snow, rubbing his hands together until they hurt from the cold. His fingertips, now miserably red and wet, no longer smelled of nicotine. Picking up more snow, the boy dropped some on his tongue and melted enough to create a rinse. He gargled for a minute and spat the water out to the side. That should satisfy Fenrir's attitude toward his bad habit.

He turned toward the small cliff and looked upward. Fenrir was readily staring back at him, tongue lolled out in an innocent gesture. Are you ready to quit, yet?

"I never said I wouldn't get another pack in the next town we hit," Lykos pointed out, "but that shouldn't matter. I cleaned up and I don't smell anymore. Bring me up?"

The wolf narrowed his eyes. Liar, you still reek. I can smell your pathetic hide from here. Besides, the wolf stretched smugly, you understand the art of climbing, do you not?

"Are you serious, Fen?" Lykos stomped his foot. "Come on! I'll quit, okay?"

Promise?

"Totally," Lykos swore.

Compulsive liar, the wolf purred in amusement.

Lykos shook his head with a smirk and started climbing up the rock face. He wouldn't trade this life for anything, but that didn't mean Fenrir wasn't a pain in his backside every now and again. Snow began to fall, slow and heavy, upon his shoulders. Glancing upward, a flash of white, blue, and brown streaked through the atmosphere. Show-off, Lykos thought. At least Jack Frost knew his powers. The shepherd boy's were still shrouded in mystery.

A/N: So what do you think? :D

Please read, review, and enjoy! :)