Note: I own all these charaters.

(Part one: time immemorial)

It felt strangely odd, according to the lighter wolf, that the sun was cold today. They'd spent hours deciding whether the season had changed or not. Of course, it was simply Spring, the daffodils had perched themselves along the soil and blossoms bloomed from the spruce another plus was the fact the sun was severely warm, but its penetrating rays had not yet pierced the atmosphere. The ball of fire that sat light years away was out today, even if it was behind a set of clouds, it was always watching them. In the year of 1044 where the world was still evolving, many things were brought into this world when it broke apart. Although everything was unknown for now, the heart of these two brothers was stronger that the metal element.

Etan dived through the underbrush, disposing of his physique and camouflaging against the auburn leaves. It was clever yet so stupid of him. Kenyon, the brother of this daring wolf had the nose of a...wolf. This inevitably meant that he would sniff him out without trouble. Of course on a dim day they played for the fiftieth time the ever going game of 'chase', they never got bored of it. They were young adults with an enthusiastic bond. Ever since their mother died unexpectedly they were aware of their surroundings and issues, they helped each other with everything; hunted together, swam together, slept together. Nothing could tear them apart, unless death passed them.

"Will you like, learn?" Kenyon padded past the brush. The leaves sighed and Etan popped his nose out.

"I think we're going to have to plug those nostrils of yours."

"Grow some common sense."

"Just grow?" Etan grinned, exposing his red body and playfully pawed his brother. They smirked, climbed over the hill and set out through the forest.

"Do you ever wonder how hot the sun is?" the smaller wolf asked.

"Not really, I guess it's pretty hot."

"Yeah but like, is it as hot as the volcanoes?" Etan turned and frowned at him.

"Tell me exactly how I would know?"

"Common sense?" Kenyon smiled.

"Common sense my tail." He muttered. It was a soft silence after that; they watched the wildlife peak behind the trunks and undergrowth, existing in this world was amazing. The grass here was forever green and never did an animal starve or die from unnecessary cause. It was unknown where on Earth they lived, some wolves said the Carpathian Mountains were next door. But as far as the two ran, they never found the mountains. They lived with the Red Pack, mainly because the alpha was once a red wolf plus the rocks were severely burnt crimson, it was a heart warming pack, with a missing leader. Within the pack it was said Etan is supposed to be alpha because of his scar: each wolf when born is given a scar along their cheek bone, the deeper scar the higher the rating in the pack. Of course, Etans' was deep and Kenyon was classed as a beta. However, they were both still young; the Elders ran the pack at the moment. Their father was non existent in this phase, after the death of their mother he had ran away from the pack. There were rumours that other animals had seen him jump off a waterfall and plunged to death, others say he was attacked by a grizzly bear. No one knew the truth. After the years they had forgotten his scent, his voice and his eyes, it hurt, but they grew strong living on their own.

The path in the forest narrowed and suddenly everything was eerily quiet. This was a totally different path. Kenyon shot his brother a silent look, his ears flattened and he whined.

"Hush brother, you may disturb something."

"Can we turn back?" he glared at the darkness in front of him.

"No. Hey, smell that?" Etan raised his muzzle and inhaled, his brother mirrored his action.

"Fresh meat?" He asked. Etan nodded.

"Buffalo." He growled hungrily. Their pace quickened eager to reach the food. "I'll race ya' to the meat!" he cried and instantly bounded off, mercurial on his feet. Kenyon was way behind him, shouting after him. The thick scent of fresh blood filled his nostrils; it clung to the leaves, to the forest ground and even the trees. Unsure of what was going on, the bloodlust blinded him and he ran faster, desperately longing for the meat that waited for them at the end of the path. Etan glanced back once and flinched to see the previous passage was pitch black behind him. He stopped in his tracks and called for his brother. No answer. He called again, but nothing stirred. Unexpectedly the scent of fresh meat disappeared as if it was an illusion. He felt very alone. The young pup began to run meanderingly down the dark path, soon he became lost. He looked back and cried. Rapidly, he was snagged by the neck and thrown into a hollow noir pit.

It was only when he was jostled about and the thick scent of cow skin filled his nose did he realised that he had fainted. A tiny hole in the darkness let a fragment of light in it brought out distinguishing features; he was in a bag. A bag that Man carried with him to store food and equipment and it was rough. He whimpered submissively and something hard hit him. On the other side of the bag he could hear soft grunts and low murmurs that he couldn't recognise. Shuffling around he managed to perch himself beside the hole, he leaned closer and narrowed his orbs, peering out of the bag. He could see quite clearly the surroundings, but it confused him so. Instead of his usual grassy homeland with mountains it seemed that a desert had taken over. There were sand dunes scattered over the dry terrain, it was dirty, claustrophobic. Etan looked up and he was terrified; what had stolen him, took him away from his brother was the thing that all Lera feared, Man. There were two of them, dressed in deer skin and other animals, they obtained swords and axes and smelled like the hunters of the west. He remembered an old varg telling him about the Klagner. The Klagner were a group of tough people that fought for meat and skin; they would kill the Lera, even the Putnar and feast. The old varg believed they worshipped Wolfbane, but impossibility struck. How would they know about the vargs beliefs and legends? These were definitely the Klagner, and he cried. Again they hit him. He couldn't understand what they were saying, but he was thoroughly intrigued. After a few moments the moving stopped and Etan crawled to the back of the bag. Suddenly there was a flood of light and dust which swept into the sack and Man attached rope around his neck. He growled as they pulled him out, spat and kicked him. Submissively he lied down and frowned, how would he get away from them? He thought about the consequences, he could get lost, die of starvation, be hunted down or survive perhaps. It was worth the risk, nobody wanted to die, not in the hands of Man. The varg stood up again and watched the people circle him, aware of his actions. Like hunting, he waited for the right moment when all was still. The rope loosened an inch and he dipped, his head was free from the straw grip and he was liberated. He snapped at the people, turned on his paws and made a run for it. He knew he would outrun them, they were destined to be fast.