~Aurora~

　　That was the weirdest interaction I've ever had with him. Furthermore, I was deep into the thought that he too can be a little dimwitted and can get flustered easily. Of course, I noticed the way he was looking at me from head to toe whilst I emerged from my bathroom. He was eye-fucking me shamelessly.

　　Despite his poor efforts in hiding his intentions with me, I could see right through him. But, I have no such intentions with him. Even if he is a man in power and I'd love to become as strong as him, I don't see him as a romantic partner. Yes, he is my role model and no, I don't want him to bury his seed deep inside me—

　　Oh my Goddess.

　　Am I tripping too?

　　Covering my body quickly with the thickest of clothes available to me in my wardrobe, I looked down at my chest. My nubs better not get excited when I see him again.

　　From what I've heard through word of mouth, the dinner was now being served to us on the basis of nutrition needs for each individual. For that, we will be giving health check ups every once in a while.

　　It was six in the evening, his awkward greeting still sat on my head. He had accidentally wished me "Good night."

　　Heading to the common hall, where almost everything important shall be happening, I took my token for the health check up and stood in a queue. My arrival had sparked a discussion between groups of individuals behind me and in front of me.

　　I shall remain unbothered, yet again. I've surprisingly changed my mindset and am seeking for their 'encouragement in disguise of their gossip' about me. It'll motivate me to shut their mouths once and for all in the first trial itself. And maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to earn my dignity back.

　　"Yo, Jackie. You know about the girl behind us?" The man sparked a discussion. I rolled my eyes, showing visible disappointment towards their attitude. What joy does it bring to a person as they belittle someone out in the open, in public and to their own friends? I could never understand this logic.

　　Even if I was a bitch to everyone else before knowing myself, I never ever did anything that pointed fingers at me and made me think I'm a belittling person. Never.

　　I guess pettiness is a trait I never inherited from my parents. All bad qualities in me were from the way I've grown up. A spoiled brat, and I'd take full credit for that. But not from the mouths of those who belittle others for 'fun'.

　　"No." The other friend answered, Jackie is his name. The two turned to take a look at me as I pretended not to understand nor pay heed to their conversation. But I had my ears open for the whole time.

　　"She's the spoiled little brat everyone has been talking about. She's lost her parents to an accident, apparently. And with that, everyone turned against her and was kicked out of her pack. I'm not sure if she's holding a rogue status or is still the Heir to her pack, but things aren't going very good with Darkforest pack." The guys said to Jackie. I watched Jackie's jaw drop, his side profile was visible to me.

　　"No. Way. She's from the Darkforest pack? I've seen her at the training regime by Commander. She's good, dude. Never thought she's THAT girl. And Darkforest pack? Seriously?? Isn't that pack one of the top five packs in the world? They've got everything, dude."

　　"That's right. She has alliance with Whispering Pines Lycan Kingdom. Maybe that was why Commander favors her, too. You better watch out, dude."

　　Oh Goddess...when will this ever stop?

　　Their words have tainted my evening's peace. Even if I didn't feel like eating the scrumptious, nurtrious supper, I swallowed it down my throat with a lump beyond my tongue. It was hard to swallow through all that grief.

　　Mom...dad...

　　If they were here, I'd jump onto their bed while they had a sweet night routine themselves and cuddle between them. They'd have kept me warm, and made me forget everything about these creatures who call themselves, 'strong warrior rank werewolves'.

　　They're not strong. And certainly not eligible for the status of warriors if they can't fucking respect nor talk so badly about me.

　　Not to forget, I noticed I'm the youngest contenders out of seventy two contenders as well.

　　There is no need for me to hold myself back anymore. The gains I've had encourage me to get more stronger.

　　Suddenly, something dawned upon me. My lips curved downwards as I remembered why I was here, yet again. My parent's sudden and heartbreaking death had pushed me into this scenario. I'm here now, trying to compete with adults who are way stronger and intellectual than me. They've had battle experience, more endurance, more stamina, you name them.

　　I have a resolution. To get back what is rightfully mine. I have the confidence in myself that the drive which is forcing me to be my best is the same drive fueled from grief.

　　Just by someone's absence, a person can feel a hundred times for desperate for power. I am not calling it as deliberate desperation for power, but I will name it as my driving force.

　　As I walked down the hallway to get to the gym room, I had planned my workout regime in my head already. I know what I must do.

　　To train my arms, I have to do at least 150 push-ups in a slow fashion. More time catered towards building core strength, more gains for someone like me. Many people get the wrong idea that doing workout in a hurried pace gives them more strength. That's not how workout works.

　　Hence, I've dedicated five hours quota from my daily life for a workout regime of my own. Five hours…

　　To normal people, this number would seem like fairytale. A workout plan for someone straight out of the movies. But I am a werewolf and my natural endurance is way higher. Through time, i may even extend the hours to six and perhaps seven hours a day as well.

　　Mom…dad…are you looking at me? Are you happy with the way I've realized my mistakes and improving myself everyday? Although, I still have a lot to figure out for myself and work on self improvement. You'll help me spiritually from up there, right? If I'm reading those books from library, all I could imagine was when dad used to read me bed time stories whenever I've asked. Even until I was seventeen, I would coop myself up between mom and dad and fall asleep to dad's voice reading us a moral dwelling story.

　　I'm working on it heavily, dad, mom. I'm working on it.