Having a strong position within a wolf pack meant a comfortable life, filled with privileges. That was my reality once upon a time, until tragedy struck when my father, the pack's leader, sacrificed himself for the Alpha. Overnight, our family's standing plummeted, leaving us with nothing. It's been five years since that heart-wrenching event, and I still marvel at how my mother, the most resilient person I know, found the strength to carry on. Our world was torn apart when they took away our home, car, and livelihood. Arriving at school that day, soaked from the rain, I made my way to my locker. A group of former acquaintances approached, ones I had distanced myself from due to their arrogance. One, who had always been close, playfully shoved me into the locker, eliciting laughter from his friends. "I'm not a fool," I shouted, halting their laughter. He turned to face me, his rank supposedly superior. "You heard me," I replied, maintaining eye contact. "You're beneath me, never forget it," he growled, clearly expecting obedience. With a steely resolve, I replied, "Very well." His aggression eased slightly as he stepped back to address his friends. But before he could react further, one of them warned him, and in that moment, I seized the opportunity and landed a punch right on his nose, silencing them all.
