🐺
One night, one of those beside him asked:
"Don't you ever get tired?"
Börü stared at the fire. Long.
"I get tired."
"Then why don't you stop?"
No answer came immediately. Wind passed. The flame trembled.
"Because some can't stop. If I stop — what do they do?"
Silence fell.
The one who asked never asked again.
Because some answers don't enter through the ears.
They cut straight through.
And stay there — deep down, in the dark, heavy and unbreakable. 🐺

🐺
Börü never left.
Because Börü was never tamed.
Those born wild don't become domesticated — they can't be broken, can't be caged, can't be chained. Those born this way either shatter or shatter everything else.
Börü didn't shatter.
His howl was heard at night — from far away, beyond the mountains. No one dared approach. Those who did either turned back or were never seen again.
But those beside him never feared.
Because they knew —
That howl wasn't for them. That howl was for those waiting in the dark. For those coming. For those lurking in the shadows.
Börü protected his pack.
Silently. Mer