Pamoen sat up in her bed at the youth program. It was night but the sun would be rising shortly, and she wanted to see it the sun rise. It was something she did every day since getting here. She loved being here!
She sighed, smiling while she looked out window in a wooden cabin that sat upon a mountain that overlooked the scenery. She had been here for weeks and got along so well with the other wolves. They didn't make fun of her stutter, they were patient with her.
There was also one boy, well man, who she got along with really well. He was an Omega, bright, and caring. He was married to a female Alpha with two kids of his own, young ones.
There was something about his scent that made Pamoen feel safe. His scent...it smelt like family. Home away from home.
She looked out the window and saw him because he too was an early riser. He lived in a cabin just a few yards away, not far from the training cabin.
Pamoen got up and took care of her morning duties and left out into the air. She took a deep breath of the cold air; refreshing and clean.
"Up early again?" He said, something he said every morning. Pamoen walked to him, looking up at him. He ruffled her hair and smiled down at her. "You seem like a little sister," he told her.
"And you seem like an older brother," she responded back.
"Would you like to go train before the others wake up?"
Pamoen nodded her head, the two heading off to the training grounds.
The crunch of gravel underfoot echoed in the pre-dawn stillness as they walked. Pamoen watched her breath plume white in the chill air, a small cloud dissipating against the silhouette of the mountains.
The sky was shifting now, the deep indigo bleeding into bruised purples and soft pinks along the eastern horizon. It wasn't just the view; it was the quiet companionship, the shared rhythm of their steps on the path worn smooth by countless paws and boots.
The Omega walked beside her, his presence a steady anchor. He didn't need words. His calm energy, the way his shoulder occasionally brushed hers as they navigated a narrow turn, spoke volumes.
She felt a profound sense of belonging, a warmth radiating from her core that had nothing to do with the physical exertion yet to come.
"Tell me about your parents," Pamoen said.
"I was adopted. All I know is that the Omega who gave birth to me is named Zan and my sire was killed by...by her own friend," he explained, a sudden sadness coming over him.
"Oh..." Pamoen said. "I'm sorry."
He smiled at her and placed a hand on her head. "Its okay. All is well now, all is well." He paused and looked at her. "Your stutter is about gone," he said. "Look at you!"
Pamoen laughed. "It seems to come now when I'm anxious or nervous," she shrugged her shoulders. "I really like being here, Xeno."
Xeno placed his arm around and her they continued to walk to the training grounds.
Zhiliary looked down from a cliff with her arms crossed. It was later in the morning, after the young recruits had breakfast and were now training.
The Alpha was able to easily see Pamoen out in the fields. She was one of the best fighters out of the youth program of her age. For her to be an Omega, it was quite impressive. That was the main reason to why Zhiliary was even there to begin with.
She jumped down from the cliffs and rolled onto the grass to soften the landing. She walked over to Xeno and handed him a note. "Go ahead and offer her the position of a messenger," she said to him.
"Yes, Alpha!"
Xeno's voice carried crisp and clear across the field, devoid of the hesitation that often marked Omegas addressing Alphas. He snapped to attention, fist thumping over his heart in salute.
Zhiliary acknowledged him with a curt nod, her sharp gaze already sweeping past him to assess Pamoen's latest sparring match. The girl moved with a fluid grace unexpected for her designation, weaving around her opponent's clumsy charge before sweeping his legs out from under him.
Dust bloomed around the fallen recruit. Pamoen offered a hand up, her expression open, earnest. No gloating, no hesitation. Zhiliary noted the controlled strength, the instinctive fairness. Useful traits as well as essential traits.
"Pamoen!" Xeno yelled out. "A word."
Pamoen ran to him and saluted. He handed her the paperwork and she read it on the spot. Her face instantly lit up and she hugged Xeno and even Zhiliary.
Zhiliary nodded her head and whistled, her dragon soaring from the sky and coming to pick her up.
Xeno had a picture of his biological parents, well, who he thought were his biological parents. He had no idea that Randali wasn't his sire but it was that of Sous.
Zan had his reasons and the adoptive family also had their reasons to why they kept such things a secret. Zan was so ashamed of it all, just so ashamed that he didn't want that past down to his son.
Xeno stared at the faded photograph, tracing the outline of Randali's face with a fingertip. The edges were worn soft, the image itself a relic from a time before betrayal carved its path through their lives.
He remembered Zan's trembling hands when he'd pressed it into Xeno's palm years ago, the scent of old grief clinging to the paper like damp earth. "Your sire," Zan had whispered, voice thick with unspoken sorrow, "a brave warrior."
The statement tasted bitter now and Xeno didn't know why, a phantom ache settling behind his sternum. Randali's smiled brightly in the photo offered no comfort knowing she loved Zan so much, only the weight of a borrowed identity. He tucked the picture back into its worn leather sleeve, the familiar creases a map of inherited silence.
"You know, you can talk to a medium if you wanna speak to her spirit," Zan's cabin mate said.
"Yeah...I thought about it. Maybe once I'm done with the recruits, Ill go seek one out. I'll love to know more about them," Xeno said.