Author's Note: Gaaaahh! 'Nocturne's Sword', the chapter, which was SUPPOSED to be the next chapter, is STILL not finished! So this will be it's replacement… Hey, can you blame me? Heeeellllooooooo! I'm writing her LIFE out, here! I'm writing her BIOGRAPHY here! Sheesh. People these days (This includes my annoying twin-sister. Yeah, shut up to you too, sis.).

I won't give up!

By: biacebaolck

When I was thirteen seasons, it was a challenge for me. Not only did I have to adapt to being known as the 'devil' because of my dark fur colour, I had to endure the teasing of other Ragnaroks, the divorce of my parents, getting used to a new family and difficulty of adjusting to a new home. For me, the north had been my home for as long as I could remember and we were moving south, far away from my home, and my true life.

Just before we moved, my only friend, Maxwell, died of a serious frostbite. He had been a weakling, because he had been unable to adapt to the cold weather in the winter, but still…he was my friend, and he had comforted me whenever I felt down. In return, I always stood up for him, whenever he was being bullied. I grieved for him and I felt helpless and alone, staring at my friend's dead body.

When we arrived at the south, I couldn't eat or sleep, and inwardly, I cried all the time. I just didn't show it. I missed my family, my friend and my home. I missed the northern breezes, with their stinging cold winds that comforted me whenever Maxwell wasn't there.

Finally, my father, realizing how painful this was for me, told me to find comfort in something that would never leave me. Finding wisdom in my father's words, I joined a club, where fighters around my age fought against each other, bare-pawed and weaponless.

When I joined, I had to endure the rude comments and mean snickers about my fur colour and my race. But I didn't let that stop me. I never let them know how I felt, but deep down inside, my heart was breaking into pieces. They all were descended from famous veterans from wars, and me? To them, I was just a Ragnarok who decided to join.

When I entered the events, I didn't know that in the first one, fighters were judged on appearance, and I quickly shown out the door. I knew that I wasn't a pretty boy. Besides, what self-respecting male would want to be?

But I kept on going, and pretty soon, I participated in a fighting tournament and beat everybeast in the club that had taunted me, that was in the competition, thinking, 'I'm not weak! I'm stronger than you all are, and nothing will change that, you jerks! Take that, and that!' I had endured their stinging smirks long enough. I. Would. WIN!

But what I did was the wrong thing. Instead of praising and respecting me, I became feared and despised. I grew older, and, at the age of 15 seasons, I left the south and journeyed back to the north. There was nobeast to stop me. My family died when I was about to turn 14 seasons. I had to live about 1 season without them.

When I journeyed back, I wasn't allowed to be back in my village. I was heartbroken. Turned away from my home? The home that I was raised in? I was determined NOT to give up. I pestered the guard, demanding that I speak to the leader.

He merely laughed and came down, dragging me by the arm and dumping me at the cliffs, well away from the village. As he left, he sneered over his shoulder, "Stay here until midday and you'll see Huron. Watch out for the wolves!"

I trembled in fear but tried to keep calm. I could do this. But, I was too tired from my journey up here. I was so tired, that I fell asleep.

A mistake.

I awoke, seeing a wolf leering down on me, and gulped. Out of instinct, I wanted to run away and hide, but I knew that the wolf would kill me on the spot if I did. I backed away slowly, not letting the wolf out of my sight and got up, reaching for my sword.

In a fighting stance, my warrior spirit grew. I would defeat it and return to my home. I was, after all, a warrior, wasn't I?

The wolf snarled at me and smirked that stinging smirk. It was confident that I would be defeated and become its next meal. But I wouldn't go down without a fight. He reminded me of every bully I've had to face in the past and I was angry. I wanted to give him the battle of a lifetime. So I threw away my sword. I could defeat him. Bare-pawed.

At the instant the sword clattered, the wolf was on me. My paws gripped his front legs that were on my chest and I saw red. I can't remember what happened then, but when I came to, the wolf was dead and I was covered in blood.

I looked up at the sky and saw that it was the next morn. I quickly spotted a river and rushed to clean myself up. Heck, I wasn't a homicidal maniac. I had some civilized in me, for the Ragnarok sake!

I looked around for my sword, but couldn't find it. Just as soon as I was about to give up, I spotted a glint under the cliff. Peering over it, I saw my sword. I tried to grasp it by its hilt and yank it to me, but it was to far down.

I was too tired to go down and get it. Heck, I even lost a lot of blood. The bloody taste was still in my mouth, even after I rinsed it out.

I left and headed for the village. When the guard saw me, he quickly let me in. He could tell from the seriousness of my face and the un-fearing features on it that I had defeated a wolf and lived through it. I was quickly shown to Huron, the leader.

"What is your name, young warrior?" Huron asked.

"Wolf, sir." I answered. A twinkle in his eye surprised me. I thought he was supposed to be serious, ALL the time. I guess not.

"Wolf. Welcome back to the Northern Ragnarok village. I know you've once lived here. It's great to have you back."

"Thank you, sir." I grinned back. Perhaps my life, from now on, would get a little MORE interesting…

"Now, go off and make yourself some friends." Huron smiled, dismissing me.

"Yes, sir." I beamed, saluting him and rushing out.

I gained much more than a spot back in my home that day. At fifteen seasons, I finally realized that no matter the odds, I'd always come out the winner if I put my heart and soul into it. I can be the master of my destiny.

"Sarah?" Madeline came out. "Wolf, have you seen Sarah?"

"Nope." I shook my head. "Perhaps she's with Hake, on the battlements."

"You didn't think I checked there?" she growled. "She isn't there."

"Well, maybe she's herb gathering."

"AT THIS TIME OF THE WAR!" Madeline screeched. "MY DAUGHTER COULD BE KILLED!" I winced at the volume of her voice.

"Just calm down, Madeline. I'm sure she's fine." I said, turning to look out in the distance. "Besides. I have a feeling we'll be hearing from the Western Ragnaroks quite soon."

Behind me, Madeline still screeched out her worries for her daughter. I just merely chose not to listen and I covered my ears. I smiled. I still remembered that day. The day when I came back to my home and re-discovered myself.

I left Madeline ranting on and on, and went to the village cemetery. I came to a carefully carved stone tombstone, bowing my head, tears dripping down my face. It had been 15 seasons since that faithful day when I rejoined with my village. I was now 30, older and a little wiser, but not too much.

"Konica…" I whispered, feeling like I wanted to cry and sob and whine and- oh, show some self-control, Wolf! "Why? Why'd you have to leave me? Why'd you have to leave me? Where is Wolfsong now?"

Konica was my late wife and Wolfsong had been my daughter. Wolfsong had looked like me, but she had had Konica'sgrey eyes. When she was born, she came into this world as a crying babe. My wife had just hugged her and she fell asleep, just like that.

When she awoke again and she was in my arms, I howled softly like a wolf to her. My wolf howl was deep and male, but when she howled back…well, let's just say it brought a smile to Konica's lips. Andto minetoo, now that I think about it.

Her howl was pure and soft, like a real wolf cub's. And, in the distance, I swear I had heard the howling of a pack of wolves, answering back. Must have been my silly imagination, right? Or maybe it wasn't… Anyway, we named her, Wolfsong, because she could sing the song of wolves. Just like me.

I lost Konica…when the war between Ragnaroks and Torquoi started. And with her, I lost Wolfsong. I still believe that Wolfsong is alive, still alive. I know Konica is dead. We recovered her body from the river. But Wolfsong wasn't there.

So, I had a fake hope that my babe was alive and well. I hoped that she would come back to me. But, it's a silly hope isn't it? To you, maybe. To me, it'd be like a dream come true if she did.

"I love you…Konica… Look over Wolfsong for me, and keep her safe." I whispered. I wiped the tears for my face and smiled. "I'll be back later…love…"

"HALT! WHO GOES THERE?" Hake's voice boomed out. I listened intently, walking toward the battlement stairs.

"Only me, Hake! And a messenger from the West!" I heard Sarah's voice. I smiled again. At least I know now where she was.

"You sure about that? Remember LAST time?"

"Oh come on! That was an accident!" Sarah argued.

"Yeah." He heard Hake snort. He was climbing up the stairs now. Nearly up to the top. "If one Torquoi died each time it was an 'accident', all the Torquoi would be DEAD by now!"

"Stop teasing her, Hake." I said. I peered down. Somebeast else was with Sarah. Black fur…and grey eyes! Could it be? Could she be Wolfsong? I kept my facial features under control. Come on now, Wolf, you don't know for sure if she's Wolfsong… But I can hope…can't I?

No, I won't give up hope! It HAS to be Wolfsong! It has to be! I won't give up hope, Wolfsong!

I won't give up!