Before man and beast learned of each other, before the first babe was birthed, before even gods were spoken as truth, there was another.
Long before the population of werewolves knew the word magic, there were two: one black, one white. One good, one evil.
They were powerful and strange, they were beauty and hatred. They were sisters. They were Wolches.
Part were. Part witch. Though this is legend, and or myth, it is believed among the werewolves as truth.
The black had beauty and goodness and heart and soul. She had a healer's touch and a mother's gentle song. She had the heart as pure as snow, yet suffered more than any other.
The white had darkness and hatred and loathing and deception. She had the fire's hunger for power and the the mind of a snake, yet she yearned for something her dark heart could not comprehend.
Years after they matured, years after the black mated and bore pups, years after the world betrayed the white and turned its back, the white took its revenge. She killed the black's mate and pups, drank their life's blood from her fingers and howled to the shimmering moon with both triumph and despair.
The black, once pure of heart, once with the ability to forgive, darkened with fury and mourning. She cast a curse on her sister, the white.
"Sister of mine, by blood and sacrifice, I curse thee! You and yours shall know loneliness. Every five generations, every fifth child born of your blood, no mate and happiness shall you know! They shall not know the touch of their mate, shall not know the suckle of a pup, shall mourn the loss I feel now.
Sister of mine, your line shall never end even if the fifth generations do not mate, for it shall continue while they maim those most foul, their pups of the same foulness. Only if and when a set of two is born shall it be broken: one good and one evil. Only if both can see the light in which you are blinded to. Only if the white accepts her nature and that of the black, and only if the male of hers recognizes her and makes her his, only if she accepts him in return, will this curse break and your suffering end!"
And so, the black faded and faded until she was nothing more than a pile of bones. And so, the white took her fury out on the world, her power growing forever stronger, forever darker. And so the world began to know of the white wolch who terrorized the countryside and raped and killed and cried. And so, her reign began…