Chapter Text
A very long time ago, when the Moon first kissed the earth, she blessed the wolves with her light.
Most were born strong and steady, their paws sure, their instincts keen.
But every so often, under the rarest blue moon, a different kind of wolf was born.
These were the Moon-Touched.
Smaller, softer, yet brighter than the rest. Their hearts glowed with empathy, their spirits attuned to whispers no one else could hear. They carried the Moon’s favor, and so the world was always drawn to them.
But being Moon-Touched was not easy.
Their light could waver. Their gift could overwhelm.
And so the Moon, in her wisdom, created the Guardians.
Guardians were not chosen by blood, nor by chance. They were bound by fate—wolves whose souls were ancient, steady, and unyielding. A Guardian’s task was to guide, to protect, and to nurture. To stand between the Moon-Touched and the shadows.
Some wolves, however, were marked in another way.
When pain or cruelty cut too deep, their instincts grew sharper than reason, their senses wilder than control. These were called the Feral. Not lost, not broken, but closer to the raw spirit of the first wolves—driven more by instinct than by thought.
The Moon never turned away from them.
Sometimes, it was the Feral who became the fiercest Guardians of all.
And so the tale is told:
When the Moon rises full and bright, she watches over the packs.
She blesses the Moon-Touched.
She binds the Guardians.
And even the Feral, scarred though they may be, carry her light within their bones.