Bit Of Lore

The feeble minds of those beneath. The rancid power of those above. What about those in between? Avert your eyes. This is no story for the weak. From demonic influence, to torturous cannibalism, King Arthur's reign lasted longer than it should. Not as an Alpha- as a King.

One silent night, a young wolf stands on the edge of a mountain. Fog shrouds his vision of the ground. He doesn't need to see the ground anyway, in fact, that makes it better. His story begins with his single paw, dangling over the edge. His paw became a body, falling into the foggy black abyss below. The fall lasted far too long, in fact, he never fell. He sat in front of a bonfire, across from a beautiful black wolf, who's bite he'd find is much worse than her bark. She promised him much. "A King you say?" "Oh yes, a King." She bowed before him and with an evil glint in her eye, his wish came true. A King for sure. A King of snakes, a golden crown upon his head.

He walks and walks to find a kind smile, who offers a place in her small growing pack. A pack in need of a King indeed. With each yip, each nip, each bark, growl and bite, he slithers his way to the top, quickly becoming the King he was promised. First kind-then not, then meaner some more, till he over powers the once kind smiles who welcomed and fed

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