This prologue has been completely rewritten. I no longer have the original one and we can assume it has been deleted out of the universe. You and I will never see it again. Yay!
Disclaimer: I don't own Bella Sara *Sobs*. I don't claim any rights to the wolves I created for the pack, and anyone is free to use them. I don't claim anything except my crappy writing.
Prologue: The Smallest Pup
Dark, distant mountains grasped at the blazing sun as it rose. Myrfor paced outside the den of his mate, Leneer. His huge shadow was cast against the dry, dead grass that surrounded Stygimoor.
To the outsider's eye, nothing, not even hope, seemed to be able to grow in this desolate place the wolves of Styginmoor called home. To Myrfor, however, the dreary settings only compelled him to keep fighting for power. Son of the monster wolf Fenrir, Myrfor was destined for greatness.
Ivenna the Wolf Rider ruled Castle Styginmoor with an iron fist, and the wolves were fine with that. They respected her rank as Myrfor's rider. Myrfor had fought side by side with her in many a battle. Together, they'd earned the respect of a huge pack of wolves, an army worthy of any king.
That's what I'll be, Myrfor thought fairly. Once we win this war fair and square. I will be a rightful king, an alpha of all alphas. The wolves and Riders had a warlike culture, so a strong partnership like Myrfor and Ivenna's was highly honored.
The bond between Myrfor and Ivenna was older than most of Myrfor's pack. He trusted that sorceress more than any other wolf, even Leneer. The Wolf Riders had become his pack, giving him the power and companionship that he craved. There was something else they offered, too: revenge.
The horses. They were faster than any prey, more magical than any wolf, and maybe even smarter than Ivenna. What had once been respect now burned as hatred in Myrfor's heart. They had to be destroyed. The Riders...they were the answer to all the horse problems.
The horses and Valkyries, followers of Sara, deserved to die for what they'd done to the wolves. They had driven almost all the wolves and Wolf Riders, innocent and guilty alike, into the darkest corners of North of North. Ivenna and Myrfor planned to defeat the petty, horse-riding people and rule the land for themselves.
It's only right, Myrfor reasoned, completely unafraid of the violence and death they would have to cause. The land will be a better place for all wolves when we conquer it.
"Myrfor?"
The low, snarl-like sound of shadow wolf language interrupted his dreams of power.
Stormguard, the spry beta of Styginmoor's wolves, trotted toward his ruler. With a curt nod that Myrfor took as a bow, he delivered the news Myrfor had been waiting for all morning. "They're here," Storm barked, "Myrfor, you're a parent."
Myrfor's tail wagged slightly. Even he, a great warrior wolf, became anxious at the thought of his new family. "How many?"
"Two daughters, one son."
Leneer called to them from inside the birthing den. "Myrfor! Come and see!"
Beside his mate, Myrfor's three pups were curled helpless and motionless. One was a pale she-pup with a coat like her mother. The other female was dark gray with Myrfor's markings. Finally there was a he-wolf so dark he was almost black. Myrfor sniffed at his only son. The tiny creature seemed healthy, but he was small, small for even a newborn.
"A runt," Myrfor murmured. He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. There wasn't any reason not to be proud. The little pup would just have to prove himself.
They slept right up against their mother's warm side. Leneer gazed down at them with loving eyes. Her gentle words and beautiful misty gray fur hid a fierce huntress and downright brutal killer. She did have a soft spot for family, though, and smiled broadly at her mate.
"Have you named them yet?" he asked Leneer.
She shook her head. "I had a few in mind, but I figured you'd like to help."
Myrfor nodded. He licked at the first female pup. "Elin, I was thinking," Leneer said after a few moments of thought. The little wolf squirmed as if she could recognize her name even without her ears being open yet.
"And this one." Leneer nudged the darker she-pup gently. "I came up with Duska for her, and for the male...well, I guess that's up to you. Nothing comes to mind."
Myrfor thought for a moment. "Conall," he said. A name for a warrior, the fine wolf he would train his son to be.
Leneer nodded. "That's a very nice name, Myrfor."
He stood motionless, watching his young offspring as they grew accustomed to this world. I will raise them to be the fierce warriors of darkness. They will be our future, our weapons against the horses. Good night, my children. What a life you all have ahead of you! After a few moments of watching his children, he left the den to howl the news to the pack.
