Dweezil

he has never been a social being.  he can’t remember having any friends in his youth — other wolves were always so far below him, not worth his time.  watching grass grow was always the better option, compared to them.

he thinks he will stay alone for the rest of his life.  thinks it would be better, that way.

...until he meets her, at least.

she is tactless and her words cut like claws, pierce like fangs, but she is deticated and determined and says to him that he will come with her whether he likes it or not, because he is strong and blessed and they need someone ilke him.

he thinks it will be a waste of his time.  he thinks he will leave soon after this stranger drags her to her home, once her pack gets on his nerves.

it does not happen.

and, now, at the end of his life, he looks over this group of wolves she has gathered — strong wolves, blessed wolves — and he thinks that she might have been onto something, after all.