Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: I saw the whole series in one go, so just consider every episode free game for the entirety of this fic.


For the first six years of his life, he never says a word.

(Never talks with his brothers and sisters as they rolled on the ground, playing, laughing at the sky. Never protests when stronger wolves knocked him to the ground, jaws clamped around his neck til he submits.)

Every warm night his mother gently strokes his tail beside the crackling fire, murmuring stories and waiting for words he never speaks.

The night the townspeople shout with rage and sharpen their pitchforks is the night his father returns, hands slick with blood, and takes him to the edge of the farm.

Can you see? his father asks.

The world crowds around, over and under, into his eyes. There's a soft imprint from a rabbit as it bounded across the field; a winding path where a snake uncoiled; broken twigs from a startled cat; blood coating the ground where a coop of chickens were slaughtered.

Can you see? his father repeats, narrowed gaze searching his face for something Wolf does not understand.

(Everything is there, engraved on the ground, heightened and colored by scent and taste, but written in sight.)

I see everything, Wolf whispers in the darkened night as yells and torches weave closer in the distance, and it hurts.


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