• The sky was black. Menacing thunderclouds loomed above the land of Eaidin, territory of the wolves, and threatened to pour over and flood everything. Lightning crackled, illuminating the area with an eerie yellow glow for a fraction of a second. The bolt struck a tree, knocking it over forcefully, and just about incinerated it. The rain began, cascading in ice-cold sheets, spilling over one cloud at a time and preventing the struck tree from engulfing itself in flames. Already, it was flooding.

    "Brogan, sir, half of Eaidin has already been flooded. What shall we do?"

    "Round up the pack—I will help, along with Fell and Cyann, of course—and lead them to high ground."

    "Would the badlands suffice?"

    "Yes. Kihoutai, more specifically."

    "Yes, sir!"

    Two dark figures, wolf-like in shape and stature, emerged from a small, dank cave, presumably the main den. They galloped about the den area, collecting its inhabitants and rounding them up like cattle. Two more wolves joined the head, one being a mere whelp and the other almost fully grown, and the pack headed toward a craggy gorge that seemed devoid of any plant life from where the gathering stood. As Kihoutai grew nearer, the land became more flooded—the younger whelps had to ride on their parents to keep from drowning.

    "We're here, everybody, so listen to Brogan!" one of the wolves in the lead called—it was the male that had spoken with Brogan earlier in the man den. All eyes moved onto the true leader, with his fading black pelt, which still retained some of its youthful glimmer.

    "The downpour had caused an enormous flood, as you have just seen. We will take refuge at the highest point of Kihoutai until the rain subsides. Until then, be careful, as the terrain will be slippery. Make sure to stay near Poltergeist and I.” Brogan’s voice was thunderous, bellowing out loud enough for those furthest away from him to hear him clearly, despite the blaring noise from the sheet rain.

    Whispers erupted throughout the crowd. “Will the floodwater reach us there, too?” “What about the children? They won’t be able to cope with this weather!” “But Aeriss is due soon! Her pups won’t survive, at this rate!”

    “Silence!” Brogan’s voice cut through the air like a lightning bolt, and immediately upon speaking, the rowdy pack quieted. “Aeriss is going to occupy the emergency den on the side of the cliff, along with any pups under six months of age. They’ll be safe from the rain there. Cyann and Fell will supervise. Despite their young ages, I have great trust in their abilities. The floodwater will not reach us. You’ll just have to trust me on that.”

    A brownish-red female with a swollen belly slowly made her way to the front—“Aeriss…,” the others whispered as they moved out of the way—and gratefully sat next to Brogan, panting softly. He nodded.

    “Let’s move out!” he called, “Atrox pack!”

    When they finally reached the highest point—the jagged, mostly flat-topped cliffs—the adults parted with their children as they were led by Cyann and Fell to the edge.

    “Cyann, take the smaller ones,” the larger, blacker wolf commanded. “I’ll take the larger ones, and we’ll both help Aeriss.”

    Cyann nodded, gripping a small pup. “Take no more than one at a time, and be extremely careful—it’s slippery,” she heard her older brother say as she began to climb down the edge of the cliff. Its side was hollowed out for a large emergency den, and it was warm and dry at the furthest end.

    Cyann hopped in, placing the pup down gently. Fell followed suit, and quickly climbed back up. Cyann did the same. They repeated the process until all the pups—which were actually only six or seven, whereas last year there were at least twelve under six months—were safely inside the emergency den.

    The climb with Aeriss was treacherous, as she was much heavier than the whelps, and she was already in labor. But they did it, and they carefully had her lay down in the back corner of the den, right up against the wall.

    She panted heavily as Cyann went to get Poltergeist, whimpering in pain as Fell sat next to her, trying hard to comfort her.

    When Poltergeist arrived with Cyann in tow, Aeriss had already given birth to the full litter—however, only one had surived, and ironically, it was the runt of the litter. Poltergeist had Cyann and Fell watch the pups at the other end of the den as he whispered to her.

    “Who’s the father?” he asked, his voice only audible to Aeriss. She sighed.

    “Rusk.” She sounded triumphant.

    “What? You mean that Kai-ken b*stard?!” His voice was barely under control.

    “Yes. I mean that Kai-ken/German Shepherd mix.” She corrected defensively. She snarled at him when he reached out a paw to the lone newborn. “Don’t you dare touch him!”

    Poltergeist sighed. “What are you naming him?”

    “Rusk, of course.” she stated happily, as if naming her son after a dead traitor was good. Poltergeist clicked his tongue in irritation.

    “Fine, do whatever you want. But you know, considering his father, Brogan will probably kill him.”

    “Never! I’ll kill Brogan before he can even touch Rusk!”

    “Poltergeist, Cyann, Fell. The rain stopped a minute ago, get everybody back up here.” Brogan called from above. The pups were collected, and brought back up by Cyann and Fell. Aeriss refused to let Poltergeist carry her or Rusk, and weakly climbed back up.

    “Ah, Aerris gave birth?” Brogan inquired. Cyann and Fell nodded as Aeriss and Poltergeist, along with the new addition, arrived. “Any clue as to who the father is?” They shook their heads.

    “What’s his name?” he asked as Aeriss walked over weakly.

    “Rus—” Aeriss began, but Poltergeist interrupted.

    “Rusty.” he stated calmly. She would have snapped if Brogan weren’t there.

    “Yes.” she agreed grumpily. Brogan nodded.



    Months had passed—eight and a half, to be exact— and Rusk…er, Rusty, had grown to a plump, energetic ball of reddish-brown fur. His father’s Kai-ken stripes were only beginning to appear as long, thin blotches of a darker color on his rump. Not necessarily stripes as of yet, but similar.

    “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy! I saw a human!!” he called merrily, bouncing over to Aeriss. She frowned at him.

    “I told you not to go over there, Rusk—Rusty!” She corrected herself at the last minute, thanking the Lord that Brogan wasn’t there, and was instead stuck in the main den with a terrible fever.

    “But I didn’t, Mommy! I was at the water! River, I think Fell said it once?” Rusk/Rusty whined, puzzling himself as to what the water was called.

    “Yes, the river. You must never cross it.” Aeriss stated. “Or play too deep in it, either.”

    Rusk was puzzeled. “Why?” he chirped. Aeriss narrowed her eyes at him, and he dropped the subject.

    Later that day, Rusk, Cyann, Fell and Aeriss were at the river, playing in the shallows. Aeriss, however, sunned on a large rock. Cyann, Fell and Rusk laughed and splashed at each other happily. After a while, Cyann and Fell slept next to each other, and Rusk was left to entertain himself until they awoke.

    “Mommy, Mommy, help!!” he called after a while. She ignored him, thinking he only desired her attention. He persisted, screaming, “MOOOOOOOMMYYYY!!!” at the top of his lungs.

    She immediately glanced up, along with Cyann and Fell, and panic struck.

    “RUS—RUSTY!!” she screamed, catching herself before she said his real name. He had disobeyed her, and played in the deep water. The current had towed him toward the rapids, and now he was quickly drifting toward the waterfall.

    “HELP!” he hollered, yelping as the water bashed him into a rock. He grabbed hold of it as Aeriss, Cyann and Fell ran after him. Aeriss jumped in after him. She grabbed him, just as he fell down the waterfall. She, too, fell, and disappeared within the roaring water. Cyann and Fell could only watch in horror as the two plummeted to their deaths.

    Rusk coughed, climbing onto shore weakly. He glanced around, searching for his mother. When he found her, he gasped, trotting over to her. “Mommy, Mommy,” he sobbed, shaking her cold, lifeless body. “Mommy, get up! I’m scared…Mommy! Mommy! No…Mommy…please…get up…”

    The sobs racked his body, and he entered a crying fit.

    “Well, well, well, what’s this? A puppy?” he heard after a while. The voice…wasn’t normal…it was different. There were no growls, whimpers, or barks. It was a smooth noise, almost menacing, and almost…comforting. Rusk turned around, only to face a human. Tall, lean, pale-skinned, and virtually hairless, other than the stubble on his chin and the barely-noticeable ring of short, white hair on the back of his scalp.

    “Who are you?” he snarled, but the human couldn’t understand him.

    “Come on, little fella, come with me,” the human grinned, scooping him up gently. Rusk resisted, squirming in the man’s tight grip, but it was a futile attempt. He may have smelled old, but he was strong.

    “My name’s Grant, by the way,” the man said coolly, as he glided along on two feet toward a (scary-looking) city. “I’d ask what your name is, but I can’t understand dog. So, instead, I’ll call you Lupus. ‘Cause that’s part of your scientific name. Canis Lupus.” He grinned down to Rusk/Rusty/Lupus, who still seemed skeptical, depressed and bewildered. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

    They arrived at a lab, and Grant plopped Rusk right on a cold metal table. Rusk whimpered, but Grant ignored him, strolling into a different room.

    “Dr. Sullivan, we have another specimen. Shall we experiment on him, too?” Rusk heard his voice, cold and uncaring. Was this moodswing normal, or was he just playing nice with Rusk…?

    “I’ll take a blood sample in a minute. You sedate him.” There was another voice, also cold and uncaring. Rusk winced at the word “blood,” and panicked. He whimpered loudly.

    “Shut up!” came from the other room. Grant walked in a moment later, stabbing Rusk with the sedative and walking out, ignoring Rusk’s yelp of pain. “Life sucks, Lupus. Deal with it.” he grumbled.

    Slowly, Rusk’s eyelids began to get heavier, and eventually they closed, and he plummeted into a dreamless sleep. When he awoke, there something…different, about…he couldn’t tell exactly what. He stood wearily, eyes looking down, and saw a charcoal black reflection, accented with green. He gasped. Was that him…?!

    Other than the whirring and beeping of nearby machines—he found out that they were connected to him by long, thin wires—there was complete silence. His eyes were no longer a sky blue, but a piercing green; the same green as the stripes all over him, his ears, and his paws. He opened his mouth, only to see black and green teeth. What happened to him?!

    “I see you’re awake, Lupus! Er, Experiment Number Thirteen, as Dr. Sullivan calls you.” Grant grinned, walking over to the metal table. Rusk whimpered.

    “What happened to me?” he inquired—wait, what…? His voice, too, was smooth and devoid of growls and barks?

    “That’s better. Now I can understand you.” Grant’s grin disappeared, and his face darkened. “I conducted an experiment on you. Well, Dr. Sullivan did. I helped.”


    Rusk/Rusty/Lupus/Experiment Number Thirteen whimpered. “Why…?” he asked, his voice slurred and childish. Grant smiled again.

    “Because we can. That’s why.”

    “Grr…” Rusk snarled, his newly-acquired human voice sneaking in. He would have to practice transitioning between human and wolf noises when he could. Grant ignored him and walked into the other room. Rusk fell into silence again, the whirring and beeping slowly putting him to sleep like a lullaby.

    “Mommy…” he sighed, closing his eyes.

    Rusk later awoke with a jolt. As the memories slowly came back, his panic subsided. He looked around. His nose twitched, alerting him that there was nobody with him, or in the next room. He finally remembered how to breathe, and slowly but surely tugged at the wires on him. One by one, he pulled them off, then hopped off the table and ran up to the door. He smelt it. Nobody. He rammed it, but it was locked. He tried the other door; the one that Grant brought him through.

    He rammed it, and with a rattle, it opened a crack. He pushed through with his nose, and was finally free. He giggled happily as he trotted down the steps, but his merry demeanor slowly melted away when he realized where he was. And why he was there.

    “Mommy!” he gasped, glancing about frantically. He galloped about the city, dark and menacing. Everything smelt so different from his home, and there were so many more smells, that his head hurt.

    Somehow, he ended up in a grassy yard, dazed and whimpering. “Mommy…”

    He lifted his head, howling mournfully. The sound tore from his throat, gurgly because it was unpracticed, and high-pitched because he was young. The house in front of him suddenly brightened, an eerie yellow light flashing on from inside.

    “What’s that noise?!” he heard. He stopped mid-howl, staring as the house’s door swung open, and a buff man emerged, smelling grumpy to Rusk.

    “Uh-oh,” the pup whispered to himself, dodging into the bushes before the human could see him.

    “Whatever’s making that noise, SHUT UP! I’m trying to sleep, God damn it!” the man yelled, climbing back inside and slamming the door loudly. Rusk sighed, then ventured off. Soon, he had fallen asleep in another yard.

    In the morning, he awoke to unfamiliar surroundings. He lay on something soft, and there was heat from another body just next to him. He lifted his head to see a small boy, sitting next to him and staring at him with a crooked smile.

    “Hiya!” he grinned wholeheartedly. Rusk stared. “My name’s Johnny! We’re gonna be best friends!”

    “Oh, really?” Rusk scoffed in irritation. Johnny gasped.

    “You can talk?!”

    Oh. Oops.

    “…I was experimented on.” Rusk glanced at his jet-black paws.

    “Really?! Wow!! So you’re like one of those Superheroes!” Johnny laughed, clapping.

    “Super-whats?” The pup was confused more than ever.

    “Y’know, guys with special powers who save people and fight the bad guys!” Johnny seemed very sure of himself. Then he made an ‘O’ shape with his mouth. “What’s your name?” he asked.

    Rusk grunted. “Let’s see…Rusk, Rusty, Lupus, Experiment Number Thirteen…” He counted in his head.

    “Whoa, that’s a lot of names~!” Johnny gawked. Rusk pictured biting his face off, but shook his head of the thought.

    “I’ve had a hard eight months of life.”

    “Let’s drop those names, and give you another one~!” Johnny chirped.

    “Okay.” Rusk was liking the idea. “What should my new name be?”

    Johnny looked around his bedroom. He looked out the window, and saw a garden of amaranth flowers. They had survived the flood from months ago with little damage, if there was any at all. He jumped up, and ran down the stairs.

    “Mommy, Mommy, what are those flowers outside called?” Rusk heard. He whimpered. Johnny came running back up the stairs.

    “Amaranth!!” he said triumphantly. “We’re gonna call you Amaranth!”

    Amaranth. He liked that name.