kicking with style

A Day in the Life of a Werewolf Union Elder

Another dull day.

Lunark sat on her steel throne and observed around the many human papers she didn’t have any interest in looking into.

The papers she never have had any interest in.

Not today

Not in the past 100 years she’s taken this position.

Unpleasant humans.

What a species it was.

Torturing their own people day in and day out.

Using them as foods, experimenting on their bodies.

Lunark remembered the first time she visited the labs. She a warrior was no stranger to prisons, and punishment zones. She had been there, she’s done that, she’s seen it all. Although the werewolves were more prone to settle everything through a good spar, prisons still was a thing to handle the truly unworthy, unruly ones who didn’t deserve the honor of a fight.

But these humans?  

Hoards upon hoards of enclosed spaces. Hoards upon hoards of humans stuffed in. Ready to be taken out only when it was time to be useful. Time for another experiment.

The screams that echoed in these halls. Those fear ridden faces, those gleeful white coats cutting a restrained one of their own kind, those experiment material gone past the stage of being considered intelligent beings …And they call themselves a civilized society? Lunark snorted mirthlessly into her delicacy that the humans call coffee, and set it down with an unpleasant expression.

And what was with this liquid? The 3rd Elder had recommended her this thing saying it was for ‘aristocrats’ of the human, but it was just making her tummy ache funny.

She’s going to see this clown of an Elder soon. Playing tricks on her? There truly was not a single human worth trusting.

Lunark signed, and unconsciously picked up the coffee again, and took a big sip attempting to drown her sorrows. She was tired.

“Aargh”

This was disgusting! So bitter!

The coffee was thrown to the side with an angry jerk of her hand, and unfortunately, some of it spilled on the papers infront of her.

Lunark’s eyes widened.

No. She was to report about all the Union proceedings to the 2rd Elder. She can’t have these papers destroyed.

Damn, documentation was really not her thing. She was good at sparing, snarling with her fellow warriors, taking care of her clan mates, and howling at the moon, yes howling at the moon was what she liked.

But here she was, hastily trying to salvage human papers from the spilled human drink. What did she do to deserve this? As Lunark painstakingly took each paper off the wet table and set them awkwardly by the window showing bright sun rays, she cursed.

She cursed her existence, she cursed her Lord for putting her here, she cursed the damned humans, and she cursed the 3rd Elder. The humans are going to pay, this specific human will pay.

But first, she needed to fix these papers that were showing an awkward brown color despite being dry now.

Sigh

There really wasn’t a single human she can trust.

There wasn’t a single human worth her interest.

What was she doing here?


Authors Note: And that was until she met Frankenstein and later M-21.

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