The Crow and The Wolf

Chapter 3

3.

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'LOVE'

A concept that tickled her buds and made her nose wrinkle in confusion. She associated the word with lust and she didnt have anything against it but she just didn't understand what the big fuss was about.

Valeria had no idea what it meant, yet it was something that everyone around her used all the time, a sort of endearment that was apparently a big deal to everyone who received it and used it.

She had her doubts that the people who used it misunderstood its meaning entirely and just uses it because they either liked how it sounded or they used it to make their companions happy when they heard it, even if what they were feeling wasn't love.

Valeria used to use the word herself as a child, her parents called it this warm fuzzy feeling you felt when you're around particular people. She felt that way every time she was with them, so obviously she understood it as love but now, not so much.

As time passed, the warm fuzzy feeling left and it was replaced with a constant worry and caution as if she was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Well honestly, that all started when her father went missing.

Not that it bothered her at all. She rolled her eyes at her thoughts and scoffed.

'So what? He's probably dead wherever he is, no use crying of spilt water or whatever the humans say,' she hummed to her wolf.

She thought of her mother and the turmoil the poor women must go through every day just to stay sane, and she couldn't help the irritation that grew at her father's disappearance.

Valeria was well aware that her mother had lost some sort of sense in regard to emotions, she knew her mother struggles with them and when she did somehow have a grip on it, the next day it would be gone.

She didnt want to become her mother, she didnt want to come head to head with the fear of losing every single emotion because of a bond that broke, a single snap of a string that can mean pain for the rest of her life.

Valeria strolled past mated couples and she couldn't help her thoughts, 'I guess that's the result of a fractured bond. Once it breaks, it's gone, enjoy it while you can.'

Her eyes gazed over two wolves who seemed so engrossed with each other that they didn't even care about the world.

She shook her head, turned to her grey locker, and entered the code before hearing the click and she opened it, letting her thoughts drift.

Valeria didn't necessarily 'not love' her mother but she was more cautious about loving others besides her mother. At times she was even proud of her mother, especially when considering the stories she heard from Mr Edgar about damaged mate bonds, she considered her mom a strong she-wolf.

Despite the fact that her mother's mate one day up and disappeared, with nothing much of a scent for her to work with, with no answers, she had not only succumbed to the red that was unmistakably calling out to her. Even with her blackouts, when Valeria would find her washing the same dish for hours on end with her red eyes, she would always return.

'And she will always return Valeria,' she mumbled to herself, feeling her wolf's subtle emotions of support from the back of her neck.

Valeria was aware that her mother's heart was frail and that soon enough her mother would leave, that her soul would leave and what would remain was just a shell of her mother, that she would become a rouge.

A rogue is explained differently in many cultures, traditions and packs and to Valeria's understanding, a rogue is a soul that has been ripped apart or broken in a heartbreaking manner. A rogue is an iceberg ready to sink a ship, void of emotions except for one, anger.