What traits do I share with my parents?
Would you ask this of me if I had been raised by wolves? I mean, you did ask me. And I was raised my wolves. You don’t think I might be a little sensitive about the whole “abandoned in the woods” thing by Mr. & Mrs. Abandon with Wolves?
You weren’t thinking, were you?
Screw them.
Let’s talk about my actual parents. The ones who raised me. Yea, the wolves. There, I said it. The friggin wolves.
Those are my real parents.
They loved me. Kept me warm at night in their den and regurgitated rabbit innards in to my gullet when I was hungry. Taught me to hunt. Taught me how to me a man (or at least a very wolf-ish man).
What traits do I share with them? Oh, the list is long.
I share their love of berries.
Like my parents, I am a huge fan of the internal organs of various forest creatures (deer being my favorite followed by goats).
Just like my mother, I always lunge for the windpipe when I am in any sort of fight… and like my dad I’ll often attack prey on their haunches and then follow them as they lose blood and then die.
Like my parents, I usually avoid bears.
In fact, just the other day I was shopping for udon noodles (did I mention the odd deli nearby that has an extensive amount of Japanese food products in it?) and there was a bear near the dairy case and even though I needed soy creamer for my coffee, I decided it would be best to just go home and get some later.
Let’s see… what else.
Like my father, I am prone to using overly complicated scent markings – sometimes to the point of annoyance with other wolves (they think I am trying to show off).
Like my mother, there’s nothing I like better than taking down an adult bison on your own and feasting on the fat before the others catch up.
Oh, and I also have a luxurious gray coat.
