No mother, you've got it all wrong. You've always been the prey. Maybe you've had your moments, the way a small, fragile lizard takes the life from a cricket, but you have never been a wolf. I know it, you know it, and he knew it the moment you slipped from The Wicked's vulva. It's why he beat you, why he tore at you, why he carted you around at his side every waking moment. He did not love you, he only wanted to make you into something, yet you have remained an insignificant, stupid lizard your whole life.

The only glory to your name is being the cunt that bore me into this world. Now I'm here though, so what use do you have left. You should just die you worthless piece of shit. Die. Die. Die. DIE. DIE! DIE! DIE!
DIE!
DIE!
DIE!
DIE!
DIE!

Öde rushes the mouth of the cave where he can see October laying. A violent bark erupts from his chest as his maw splits, teeth gnashing against one another, saliva slung around as he flings the great wolf head that is his sickness crown.
He stops abruptly just before crossing over the first fold of stone however, his body swerving sideways to rapidly stalk across the entrance. Part of him, he wasn't sure which part, revolted at the idea of going further. His chest burned with the unfamiliar ache of failing to get the thing he most wanted. WHY!? he bellowed inside his mind while his hooves worked out the frustration on the earth amid a wash of hair spinning around each leggy limb.

Furious he slunk away from the cave mouth, sulking just beyond the sightline of it for her.

"Don't go!" she cries out, the words like a spear to my heart. I grapple with the desire to turn around the corner, barriers be damned, and just fucking rip her head clean off her shoulders. I hate her with such an intensity that it startles me, especially the me that's living deep in the corners of my conscious.

Here was a being I genuinely loved. The only one I had ever loved. And she had loved me back, or at least I thought, until that day. That day that she left me for the darkness while she ran on ahead. That day that she let me die.

In part, I am grateful, for it has allowed me to transcend into a form more deserving of my greatness. Yet the mortal remnants that float around my mind cannot forgive the way in which my rebirth occurred, and for that I hate her. That singular emotion seems to feed the beast within. It purposefully gnaws at it, like an open wound, until I am in a frenzy of bloodlust.

I pause however, perhaps the beast shaken by the cave, which has allowed my private thought pattern to surface. I am still sick though, I am still pissed, so it is not only me thinking. Me and ...something else.

"Don't go!" Öde calls out piteously. His voice lacks the wolf's rumble, sounding as small and as innocent as he was only days before when he was naught but a small colt abandoned by his one and only caregiver. "Don't go!" Öde calls again, a wail bringing his tone up high, fright evident in the tone of his tongue.
"Wait for me mother! Don't leave me. Mother! MOTHER! MOT-" His voice gradually grew in hysterics until it cut off suddenly, silence leaking from the dark boy as he stood, a smile on my face.

"It's working." I knew instantly, her voice cawing out like a wounded thing begging for mercy. Her apology was too little too late, but I relished in the agony that it created as it lurched from her throat.

Öde gently, carefully, quietly walked back towards the cave entrance. As if shy he peeked around the corner, pausing once he saw her, his red eyes holding her eerie orange ones. He was reminded of how beautiful she was, an awkward sort of grace and a distracting set of markings, but she was lovely, or she had been. Love had been like an infection in his eyes, making him see her better than she really was. She loved when it was easy, she left when it was hard.

Then she said it. She called him a prince, and he snapped. Out of everything from this experience he was grateful for what he had become. No longer was he confined to the husk of mortal existence, bound in blood and bone as she was, too weary to even stand. Now he could eat her whole and still be hungry for another. Now he could take the innocence from someone just with an exhale. Now he could rule the shadowlands, a better kingdom than she ever provided - nothing but empty words and clouds that refused to bow. Fuck her, he was a god.

"Prince?" he asked quietly, his body slumped over itself as if he were tired or scared, or both. He tilted his head up as she came staggering out however, his red gaze drifting back and forth quickly across her body. "A prince?" he asked again, louder now, more hopeful. His posture straightened, head tilting to the side like a begging dog. He proffered her a toothy smile, his tongue lolling easily from his muzzle.

"You think me a prince, mother?" He took a step towards her, slow, but steady. "I'm not a prince," he laughed airily, the sound more like a humorous exhale. Another step forward, then one more. He paused, drawn up to full height now, his wolf's head pointed forward like an arrow. "I AM A FUCKING GOD!" he screamed, the word's deep with a canine growl to their edges. As his voice died out a snarl remained, features taut with fury. "BOW TO ME," he snapped, lunging forward effortlessly and opening his mouth to consume her.