Metas felt weak, and tired...he was hungry, dirty, and scared. In the dark where most wolves felt safe, he was uncomfortable. The scent of urine, feces, and bodily oils were mixed together in a putrid stench that surrounded him.
He wanted to reach out, but his limbs would not move as though he knew better (much much better) than to try to move or escape from the small area he was in. All he could manage was to sniffle and whimper.
What the hell was this? Where was he, and who would do this to any living soul?
"Mother! You should have called for me..." he heard a familiar, deep voice muffled through the door - or was it a wall? "You can't just leave Myranda in the broom closet. What is the matter with you?!" The male voice roared out.
"You can judge me as a parent when you have kids, you whiny little shit" a raspy, harsh voice replied with malice. "You're supposed to be gone. Why are you here?"
"I came to check on Myranda because she wasn't at school. I'm supposed to pick her up in the mid-week, remember? All you have to do is drop her off. I pick her up, feed her, bathe her, all that good stuff, and you don't have to do anything else. How fucking hard is it to get out of bed and do the basic minimum requirements of parenthood?" Jyriah shouted.
Metas felt himself shiver and freeze in terror.
"You and your sister, you're both the same judgemental pukes that fell out of me. If you want to take care of her so badly, why don't you just do it? Better yet - drown her in the river. I don't care." The female voice echoed against the wall.
"Jyriah? Leave your mother alone, you little bastard. You said you would stay away," a male voice interjected with a slur.
Now, Metas hugged himself in hopes it would somehow transport him far, far away from this place. He felt so tiny, and so vulnerable. How old was he? He felt itty bitty.
"Fuck off, old man. Move. If you're not going to take care of her, Syranna and I will - get out of the way before I make you." Jyriah snarled.
Metas now understood why Jyriah was so fierce about his baby sister. Now he understood why she didn't trust anyone before.
His eyes shut tight to squeeze the tears out of them, and when he opened them again, he was standing at the shop-front of the bakery he met Myranda in. He was so short he could barely see over the countertop, but he managed to get a good step-up on a stool so she could see over the pastries.
He looked down at his reflection in the glass... he couldn't have been any older than 50 - maybe 60. Who leaves a toddler in charge of a shop front?
The moans and calls of pleasure from the room behind him answered his question.
Oddly enough, he didn't feel any resentment or anger. Instead he felt the desire to do a good job, and finally get praise from the parents who bore him. Maybe if he made extra money today, he could go and buy something other than having left over tarts for dinner.
At that thought his stomach growled. His hands and body were lithe and lanky. Should he get into a fight, he'd be blown over like a house of leaves. It was so uncomfortable.
He put on his best smile and greeted the first two customers of the morning - two tall males who sneered and snickered. "Hey squirt. Where is your sister?"
He pointed towards the tunnels in the proper direction. (Wait....could he not talk?)
"Thanks, tiny tot. You should really learn how to talk you know. My brother is 20 and he can speak full sentences....aren't you a little old to be silent?"
Metas could feel his eyes glass over as he stood in silence. He wanted to move his tongue...but...it felt far in the back of his mouth as though....oh no.
He still didn't feel anger, although he wanted to. All he could feel was profound sorrow, and a will to live that outshone the sun coming from somewhere.
"Okay, okay, that's enough. Two morning buns, and Syranna's favorite flower....maybe?" The second male said and gave Metas a large grin.
He just sighed at first, and with great struggle, he was able to use his tip-toes to reach the highest items in the case. As he struggled, he could hear the two of them snicker and watch with eyes filled with entertainment.
Caught up in their stares, he lost his footing and fell backwards. The world went black, and when he woke up, both Syranna and Jyriah were there cleaning up a mess, and tending to his wounds.
"Oh, sweetie," his older sister cooed lovingly. "It's alright, Jyriah and I are here now." The beautiful female leaned down and kissed the top of his head and then picked him up tenderly.
His eyes were hot with pain as his tears spilled over his cheeks and the red hair of Syranna cascaded around the sides of his face. He buried his head into her chest, and sobbed. Metas stayed there for a while until he needed to breathe, but when he pulled himself back, he found himself in the arms of Jyriah who was shaking.
Metas felt a mix of relief and sorrow, and when he turned to look behind him, he saw a large kiln with two bodies burning on slates within it. For some reason he knew it was his parents, even though their remains were charred and unrecognizable.
"I'm going to move back home to take care of you, Myri. You'll never be hurt by them ever again, and I promise that you will have a happy ending to your life, just like you deserve. I'll die trying if I have to." Syranna said with a strong, yet wavering voice.
He felt as though she was lying to try to make him feel better, but it made his chest feel warm all the same.
"Me, too." Jyriah added with more of a cold tone as his eyes stared into the incinerator where all the lower tunnel 'trash' were put to "rest".
"Don't feel sad for them, Myri. They got what they deserved. Now that they are dead, it's your turn to get all the things you deserve." Syranna comforted her.
Metas joined his brother in staring into the hot flames that burned away all of his troubles. It's all he could focus on. It's all he cared about.
He zoned out and lost track of time as the kiln became an oven, and the burning objects were the morning buns that needed to be ready for the Alpha and Luna's visit.
Rage, disappointment, and the utmost distaste for their presence soured his mouth.
The only thing that wiped it away was when his big sister walked through the door with her daughter in tow. Now everything was okay.