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    Summary

    The last time Wolf had been hunted was training with his father and the Usui clan; he remembers running through the forest with his heart in his throat time and again, trying to get away from Owl and Butterfly and all of his brothers.

    Wolf has always been faster, and smaller, and better, and eventually no one could find a trace of him in the trees.  He was like a ghost, drifting through them all unseen until even Butterly was impressed.  It took hard years to get there, and countless nights where he was sure he would die.

    The older shinobi trainees would throw Wolf out of his bedroll in the night, laughter echoing between them as they unsheathed knives, run fast little puppy. 
     
    If he did not, they would ruin him.  Wolf has been shot with poison darts, cut with poison blades.  

    Wolf has been held down by the throat, opening his mouth obediently so they could pour it down his throat.  It is what he had earned that time, and he would take his due; next time, he’d be faster.  Next time, he’d be quieter.

    Next time if he was too slow, they might gut him and leave him in the trees for the crows, they said. 

    This is different.

    Or: Wolf Is Given To The Great Serpent As His Bride

    Language:
    English
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