This is the first chapter of a storry I've been working on. I use some of the intros for roleplays, but this is its origonal context. I'm not the best, but please give me honest opinions! I appologize for any spelling, grammer, or tence issues. All the same, please let me know! Thanks!

HUNTING

Alexander knew two things. The first was that he would never be a hero. The second was that he would never be able to leave that of his best friend’s shadow. Alex, after all, was only a farm boy. Nothing of importance would ever happen to him, and he would never fall in love. He would never have an exotic pet or lots of coins, let alone thousands at his command. Yet, Alex had always been happy where he was. It had never been an easy life, but, all in all, a fair one. Lately, however, something seemed missing to him.

It was a cold October morning. Alex awoke about two hours before dawn, as he did every morning. He yawned and tied back his hair, think black strands falling about his face. HE blinked the sleep from his pale blue eyes and yawned. Today would be a hard day, no matter what Tristan said. It was harvest day, and this was the last year Alex could spend it as home.

Alexander Kaos was about 17 years, a little younger than his best friend Tristan by about half a moon. They had both been born in April, the month of Dragon, on the spring of Bright Moon. The harvest had been good that year, but neither boy knew of each other until many years later.

On this day, however, Alex had decided that Habban, the Fifth Kingdom of the land, was not his home. Somewhere there was something, some knowledge that Alex could understand and cherish. Somewhere there was a ray of hope.

Alex blinked at himself in the mirror, ignoring the crack strait down the middle of the gl*censored*. Again, he yawned, revealing perfect teeth beneath pale skin. Today would be a long goodbye to all he had ever known. The tall boy left the small room and walked out into the dark fields.

The boy, in ratty work clothes, leather gloves to nearly his elbows, and a black, back length ponytail worked. Alex didn’t stop to even breath except to look at the dawn as it arose over the horizon.

At dawn, Prince Tristan was only just awakening. He quickly dressed himself in plain black robes and scurried out into the halls. Most of the servants were asleep at this hour, but, for the moment, Tristan had no need for them. He too, shivered against the draft. As the sun began to rise, the young prince yawned. Still roaming pointlessly in the halls, he p*censored*ed many banisters and extra décor.

Tristan sighed in annoyance. He didn’t want to be King or Habban; not yet. It was an odd thought, being king. Since the planning for his coronation had begun, Tristan had gotten an uneasy feeling in his gut. Something wasn’t right.

As Tristan slipped through a large downstairs window, he thought about his way to Alex’s field. Closer to the castle was a series of streets, twisting and curving from one place to another. If one where to go further, however, they would begin to see the bright country side. Tristan preferred his visits to Alex as opposed to his duties. In the fields, though Tristan refused to work, brought both the boys much pleasure. They often took longer breaks and talked, usually until sunset. There were a few days where Alex would turn him away or ask that of Tristan to ‘shut his mouth.’ Tristan would then make some comment about how he meant to have put Alex in prison by now.

As Tristan walked, his scarcely shoulder length hair reflected the early rays of the morning sun, making it seem lighter than it already was. Tristan’s hair was light blonde, nearly transparent in the peculiar light of dawn. It only seemed to thrive for the compliment of his eyes, wide, dark sapphires, often appearing near black.

The prince walked calmly, his shoulders back, his head held high, the walk of a prince never leaving his thin frame. Ever so slowly, Tristan drew nearer to his best friend.

Alex, however, was not at the fields. Tristan peered in the bedroom window, glanced around the four barns on the property, and scanned the many fields. Throughout them all there was no life. Annoyed, Tristan looked again, quicker this time. HE was about to give up when, on his trip to the third barn, he noticed that Alex’s horse was gone.

Famirr was a near black stallion, with white stocking on the rear limbs and a broad white stripe on the creature’s forehead. He was a tall horse with a broad body, not exactly racing material. Famirr was not fast or agile either, but, under Alex’s hand, was brave and sturdy. To say that Alex’s most prized creature was great or perfect would be an understatement, especially in Tristan or Alex’s eyes.

Tristan was now near infuriation. Alex had gone off without him and for what? Nothing. Some friend he was. After several moment of rage, Tristan sighed. HE couldn’t stay angry at Alex for very long. No, he would just have to be annoyed with the fact.

After a few minutes of mopping around the farm, Tristan decided that he wouldn’t spend the day alone. The previous day’s events had far too confused him, never mind frightened. The whole day the entire staff, his sisters, little brother and countless strangers were crowding him, asking him questions. These questions ranged anywhere from ‘what’s your favorite color?’ to ‘dear prince, do you think that you should include the proposal for the new rights of the people in your coronation speech, the one about the exchanges and the….’  On top of all this, there was that one, never ending dreadful question: “Prince Tristan, who have you chosen to be your bride on the day of the coronation?”

Just at the thought, Tristan shivered. He was only about 68 seasons! A farm boy could wait until they where about 116 seasons of age. This was one of the many hidden reasons that Tristan absolutely loathed both himself and the parts of him that loathed Alex. Alex was lucky that way, but would never in a million years be able to see it.

The walk to the royal stables was long as quiet as Tristan thought these over repeatedly. He tried to p*censored* the time by scanning the growing crowds for lovely girls, but to no avail. His mind would only linger back to friend and his ungrateful fortunes. And, all the same, Tristan would give anything to linger about Alex nearly every day. They where brothers without blood.

As the stables came into Tristan’s view, he wasted no time saddling and preparing his second favorite steed. Rainsan was a broad mare filled with attitude. He wasn’t the fastest, but very agile and quick to respond. She was a dark blue Rhone, still in her prime with a black mane and tail.

She, like Famirr, was trained by none other than that of Alex. When Tristan had found the foal on an abandoned ranch, he was riding an old bay gelding. He refused to have anybody touch his horse except for his younger brother, Alexander, and himself.

When at last the horse had been trained, she was almost as well off as Famirr. Being a mare, her spirit was a little different, and therefore, her training had been a little different. The outcome had been that she was a well trained mare with, of course, a bit of attitude.

Rainsan was calm about the saddling this particular morning. She was still tired when Tristan began to walk her, but she went with it. The creature briefly wondered what the human was doing this early with her, but, eh, what did she care?

Tristan saddled Rainsan without much sound. Just as he left the stables, he heard the opposite barn door open. The caretaker had come in to feed the horses. Tristan quickened his pace just a little, keeping the mare’s reins tight in his grip.

His next stop wasn’t very far. Luckily, the dogs had already been fed. Tristan need not worry about the caretaker spotting him this time. His most prized animal, a broad wolf mix was in his large kennel lying upon his large red and silver pillow, placed by Tristan’s request.

Sattain was an incredibly large dog with large, strait ears and a long muzzle. Each of his black legs where as long as his body, his tail about three quarters that length. The dog was smaller than the wild wolves of the forest, still coming nearly to Tristan’s waist at the shoulder. Sattain’s pelt was jet black, reflecting the lights shone upon him like a mirror. His scruff, the area around his eyes, the bottom of his jaw, chest, ear tips, tale tip and m*censored*ive paws were light silver, tinted with blue.

As the sound of footfalls approached, Sattain’s ears flicked up and he began to snarl. When they did not seese, however, he stood strait up, his fur standing on end. He bared large canines as he let out a sickening growl.

Rainsan stopped and tugged twice on her reins. She never liked the dogs, and Sattain didn’t sit well with her at all. Tristan’s grip remained firm, however. He knew that if he let go, he may never well see Rainsan again. He sighed and soothed his mind, hoping his inner strength would influence hers.

After a moment, Sattain’s evil noise seemed to vanish. The other dogs where quiet now. Though usually barking and play fighting, they where now silent, huddled backwards, close to one another in the kennels.

Sattain looked up, and saw Tristan, his master. There was a moment of near confusion before Sattain relaxed a little and lowered his stance. His fur lay flat again, his mussels relaxed. The moment the wolf-dog wagged his tail from one powerful thigh to the other, Tristan could feel the whole room sigh together; first the dogs, then the *censored*es, then Rainsan and himself.

Slowly, Tristan urged the mare onward. Each step was agonizing. The prince knew that being mostly wolf, Sattain’s gaze wouldn’t leave them for a long while. It was an odd sensation every time Tristan entered the kennel. He, in Sattain’s domain, was the prey of the forest, and Sattain the ultimate predator. Tristan stared back, too afraid of the wolf-dog to take his eyes off of him.

His gaze flickered for less than a second as another dog barked. Sweenez, one of Sattain’s many sons in the kennel had picked up the war cry. With the mood lightened, the other dogs once more began to bark and play. They continued to naw their bones and ruffle each other’s fur. There was no doubt.

The dogs knew that Sattain couldn’t hurt them so long as he remained in his own cage, but, at the same time they could be trapped in their own imprisonment. At least under Sweenez, they could play and eat in peace, without having to worry about Sattain for a few precious moments.

Tristan’s gaze quickly flickered back to Sattain, sitting now. He knew that Sweenez was watching the wolf intently, protecting his pack of hunters.

When at long last Prince Tristan reached the door of the large kennel, Rainsan pulling on the end of the rein refusing to go further, Sattain stood. Tristan felt himself, Rainsan and Sweenez all hold each other’s breaths in their throats. There was a seemingly long moment as Tristan reached out to the cold iron bars and lifted the latches one by one.

When at last the fifth and final latch was lifted, Tristan took a quick step back. He forced himself to be calm, collected. He remembered Alex once telling him that a dog could sense energy, and Tristan’s mind began to race as the door creaked open. Time seemed to slow, despite the fact that everything was happening so fast. Things almost blurred, but Tristan’s senses seemed to sharpen against it. His mind was going so fast.

The door creaked open.

If dogs could sense energy, how you where feeling, what could wolves do? They were so much smarter, stronger…

Sattain stood up to his full height as the door began to sway on the iron hinges, back and forth, slowly coming to a slow.

But Sattain was neither dog nor wolf. No, he was like the perfect hybrid, the God of the canine world. If this was so, what would become of him? What could he see? Could even Sattain see something terrible or great that Tristan could not?

Sattain took a step. The long claws on the stone floor echoed loudly in Tristan’s head. Somewhere at the other side of the room, a drop of water fell to the ground. Sattain took another step, the claws flexing under the m*censored*ive paws so that it became the only sound.

Tristan could no longer make sense of his thoughts. They were going too fast for the young prince to even pretend to comprehend. Quite randomly, he remembered something he had not wanted to think about for a long time.

Tristan’s mother spoke to him. Her words where soft and slurred together, almost whispered. Tristan felt the hot tears on his face as he knelt on the cold carpet. The air was thick, as if a large, dark cloud loomed over his mother’s bed.

Sattain took another step towards him. Tristan could see he was beginning to quicken his pace.

His mind raced ever faster, his sight blurred. He saw his mother, or what he thought was his mother. She was paper white, her sky blue eyes no longer shimmering. Again she whispered, words engulfed by the blackness that only Tristan could see.

Rainsan tugged violently on her reins now. She whinnied and rose to her hind legs for a second, as if to ward off the m*censored*ive wolf lunging towards the pair.

Tristan heard himself scream, felt the anguish and hurt swell inside himself. His back was stiff and cold. His whole body was cold, in fact, except his eyes, boiling hot as fresh tears rolled down his face in rivers.

He heard the dogs begin to bark again, loud absorbing.

Tristan fell into darkness as he screamed again, echoing off of emptiness until fading into nothing.

A wolf howled in the darkness, and the sight of Sattain appeared in Tristan’s mind, blurred at the edges. He heart his heat beat slow, speed up, slow again, and return to normal pace.

Tristan blinked several times, unsure exactly what had happened. He held Rainsan’s reins tightly in his clenched fist. The dogs about him began to bark loudly. Sweenez took up his father’s howl eerily echoing the terrifying sound.

Tristan wanted to scream until his lungs burst. Instead, he yawned. He blinked again, and then staggered backward. Two giant silver paws rested on Tristan’s chest. He tugged on Rainsan’s reins to maintain balance for just the moment he needed.

Sattain sat back on the floor, and then stood in a single, fluid movement. He too, yawned, and then blinked his eyes. He watched Tristan with intent, nearly mimicking him.

Tristan cleared his throat quietly. It took him a moment to find the right words. “Sattain, follow.”

Tristan turned away, listening his grip a little on Rainsan’s reins as he led her out of the kennel. Sattain trotted calmly along behind, his head low, his bright gold gaze never leaving Tristan. As Tristan breathed the fresh morning air, he sighed and took a moment to collect his thoughts. Yes, he was going to find Alex. He was probably off in the forest somewhere, hunting, fishing, or more likely just going for a walk. They where boys after all, lazy things, his father had once said.

As Tristan thought this, he was immediately tinged with sadness. He sighed and pushed the thoughts away as he climbed nimbly onto Rainsan’s back. She puffed with discontent, but Tristan ignored her. He repeated, louder this time, “Sattain, follow.”

He clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth once and nudged the mare’s sides. She began to trot towards the roads, Sattain at her heals, almost jogging to keep up with the much longer strides of the horse.