---Going back a few weeks---
The training wasn't working. The one who knew this best was Wail.
No matter how hard he tried to gain control over his wrath state, nothing worked, and Wail was running out of ideas.
The breaking point came when he tried to use his Sunken state and Wrath state at the same time.
When it was all over, Wail was lying in the middle of a group of Zonaths, or at least what was left of them. The worst part was that Wail didn't remember anything. Until now, he had been able to stay conscious during training, but when he combined the two states, the result was devastating.
The next day, "No matter what I do, I can't control it" Wail thought as he ate. As the days passed, he had entered the wrath state so many times that it had become very easy to do so. "Anger has a limit, right?" He remembered thinking that at first, but he was wrong. "Quite the opposite is happening," Wail thought as he chewed on a piece of meat. It was becoming much easier to enter the wrath state, and that worried him. If he could control it even a little, he wouldn't mind, but the way things were, Wail was no different from a rabid animal once in that state.
Days passed, and in the end, he decided not to enter the wrath state until he had an idea of what to do.
It wasn't all lost, of course. Wail was now able to remember what the abilities he gained while in "wrath" felt like.
There were three abilities he gained when entering his wrath state, at least the ones he had noticed.
The first was "heightened perception." Wail was able to sense everything around him, although it was difficult to explain, as it was like seeing everything in the third person. A way to sense your surroundings that left zero blind spots.
The second ability was "increased resistance." This was something Wail couldn't explain, but it actually happened. In his Wrath state, he was more resilient. Not only did he not take damage easily, but he was apparently immune to common damage. At least apart from his clothes, his body was unharmed when he woke up among the Zonaths.
As a side note, Lass punished him with no dinner when she saw the state of his clothes, which was painful because since he lost control, he hadn't eaten for over half a day.
The last ability, and the one he was most interested in, was "increased strength." As its name suggests, it increases strength. By how much? It's hard to say. Without it, Wail is capable of destroying small rocks; with it, he's capable of destroying huge boulders. Without it, he's unable to kill a Zonath; with it, he can take down a dozen without taking damage.
If he compared the state of wrath with his sunken state, the difference was clear. In the sunken state, his reflexes increased exponentially, to the point where everything moved in slow motion. His strength also increased, possibly triple that. But that was all.
More days passed, and he continued training. He tried to slowly enter a state of "wrath"
"Waaa!" He let out a cry of pain. His head felt like it was going to explode; he was about to lose control. He didn't understand why, but he was sure he was about to lose control again.
He didn't want to remember that day. The day he woke up next to the Zonaths and saw the mess he had made, he was scared. He thought that maybe, if he had wreaked such havoc in the forest, he might have hurt someone innocent. So he retraced his steps and looked if someone had been injured, someone who had crossed his path and gotten hurt. Fortunately, he found no trace of anyone other than himself and the Zonaths, so he convinced himself that everything would be okay. Even so, he would ask his mother if there was any news from the village from time to time, if she had heard anything about missing people or wild, unknown animals that had suddenly appeared. "Are you asking if a new milon has appeared? The answer is no, the wall guard has been severely reprimanded after what happened, so no animal that large should appear again," his mother told him in that elegant body language.
So he stopped thinking about it and considered sealing the wrath state, because not only was it becoming easier to enter it, but he had also started having nightmares while sleeping at home. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he lost control while sleeping next to his brothers.
That's why it was so worrying to know that he could suddenly lose consciousness and start a killing spree at any moment.
Anyone in his situation would have completely sealed off the wrath state, but Wail remembered from his past life, from the novels he used to read, that those who do that kind of thing eventually lose control and hurt those they love.
So Wail decided to at least regain a little control. How he managed to do it was quite surprising.
He remembered her hand.
He remembered the feeling he had the first time he woke up in this world. He didn't remember much from that time. Even if it was not so long ago, he was less than two years old so Wail had forgotten almost everything from his first few months after being reborn. His first memory was actually the day he entered the Sunken state. After that, his memory moved on to the day he received his name and the fights at mealtime, his defeat against Growl and his subsequent victory. "The memories of the last few months are more vivid," he thought.
He would soon be two years old.
Wail had to gain control over his wrath.
At some point in his training, Wail understood something. "Wrath consumes me because I focused on the darkness of my past life. Maybe if I focus on something positive, things will change." It wasn't much, but it was a plan. He tried to remember something positive from his past life, but he couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, only information from manga and anime, TV documentaries, or random information that didn't help him emerged. The rest was war and devastation. He was sure he had people he cared about in his past life, but he didn't remember them. Everything that came to mind only made him hate everything and everyone. He wanted them to pay, to suffer.
He knew his past self had people he cared about. In fact, in his usual nightmares, one of the most recurring themes was his concern for "them." But who were "them"? It was a mystery.
So, he decided to use the resources of this life to counteract his anger. The problem? He didn't know what to use. He was sure he was happy. The freedom he had in this life was something he wouldn't trade for anything. He liked fighting with his brothers and hunting with them. He liked eating together at the table and listening to his father tell stories from time to time. He adored his mother and how kind she was despite not showing any emotions on the outside. But he wasn't sure if any of these memories competed with the terrible reality he had memories of.
Then he remembered that day. The first day of his new life. He remembered the fear and the darkness, he remembered the pain and the cold. He remembered the despair.
And he remembered her hand. How, from one moment to the next, she managed to dispel all the bad feelings he felt. He remembered the calm, the security, and, although he was a little ashamed to admit it, the love. He felt loved at that moment.
He breathed deeply, concentrating only on the Wrath techniques, not on the painful memories.
He entered his wrath state, and when he felt himself losing control, he tried to remember that feeling—remember, it wasn't that long ago—he told himself.
And the pain stopped. He didn't lose consciousness, nor did he lose control. He hadn't transformed; only his claws turned red. He was in a state of wrath, but in control. "I did it!" was heard that day in the forest clearing.
----------
His new transformation wasn't as strong as when he lost control; at most, it was half as strong. But it was enough; Wail could boast that he had succeeded. Now he needed to experience the limits of his new state. He called it wrath 2.0.
One of the things he wanted to know was how long he could spend in wrath 2.0, so he stayed transformed for as long as he could.
It was then that one day, his brothers, followed by a million, arrived at the clearing where he was. "They're going to blame me for this, aren't they?" he thought at the time.
---Back to the present---
When Wail returned with Growl on his shoulders and draggin Grul by his collar, his mother wasn't angry.
She was furious.
That day, not only did he go without dinner, but he was also punished with fieldwork the next day; he had to help around the farm. After cleaning the libiros-den and feeding the chickens, he would have to carry sacks of seed for quite long distances. Wail didn't mind the work too much, but he didn't like seeing his mother so angry. "Do it again," she communicated him when she saw the libiros-den, and Wail did so without complaint. He knew he had to wait until she let it go.
That afternoon, while Lass was preparing dinner, Wail arrived and communicate "Mom, I'm done" She looked at him. Her oldest son was covered in mud and filth from the libiros-den. "Go wash up," Lass told him. Her oldest son ran into the pond without thinking. Lass made a swish with her rag, causing Wail to turn around, and Lass told him, "Don't jump into the pond like that, wash up first."
Wail smiled and nodded. "It's not a punishment if you enjoy it," Lass thought, and went back to making dinner. Soon Wail was beside her, but she didn't notice. She was lost in her own thoughts; her first litter was very different from what she had imagined it would be. Wail was very small and expressive, something that could be fatal for his future, Growl was strong but too hasty, if he grew in a normal way Lass was sure that he would become the best hunter in the village, perhaps even the strongest among the gray wolves, he had that aura around him, but he was obsessed with defeating Wail, Grul had more the temperament of a servant than a hunter, he took the easy way out of everything and liked being in the kitchen watching her prepare food. Clak and Drok were normal, with the right temperament and Lass felt sure they would become excellent hunters. As for Bru and Quek, it was also difficult to tell. Bru was nervous, everything startled him, and Quek was always asleep. He was growing strong, there was no doubt about it. After Grul, he was the largest, but it was very difficult to find him awake.
She was a bad mother, she was sure of it. Suddenly, she noticed it: little Wail was standing next to her, watching her, sadness reflected in his small face. Lass saw him and understood that it was her fault. She bent down and hugged him.
"Grow up and be strong. Remember that I am here," she said in the language of the forest, a language that few were able to speak. A language impossible to learn, since only those born with the ability to speak it can.
Wail was surprised; it was the first time he'd heard his mother speak in this life. "Dinner will be ready soon, your final punishment will be setting the table, so let's go," Lass announced, and Wail nodded and ran off. "Hide that smile" Lass thought.
----------
Two years had passed since he arrived in this world. Or so he believed. According to his father, time in the Black Forest is measured in seasons, not months or years. The term "year" had been borrowed from the races beyond the mountains with whom they have trade dealings.
Aside from how surprising it was to hear his father communicate that he knew what trade was, the fact that time was measured in seasons took him by surprise the first time he heard it.
The reason? Well, since he was born, he can't remember ever seeing any climate other than temperate. In fact, the climate was so perfect that it rarely rained; in short, he'd never seen a change of season.
Seeing that they didn't understand, his father explained it in more detail. "We live in the Black Forest. Which is divided into six regions.
The central-eastern forest, or central forest, is always temperate and is the largest region where the largest number of beasts congregate, as well as the most powerful, making it the most dangerous region. It is also the region where we are located.
The northern forest, or white forest, is an extremely cold region of frozen forests, steppes, and, in its most remote part, mountains. The beasts there are large but pale in comparison to those of the central forest, both in power and number. It is also home to the white wolves and their impure arts.
The western forest, or stone forest, is a region of rocky mountains and beyond it is the great fire desert. The beasts there are not very large, but they are resilient, and many are poisonous. It is the home of the black wolves and their savagery.
The south-central forest, or Forest of Eternal Autumn, is home to the largest concentration of tribes. There you'll find the arrogant Leonid tribes, the cruel Crocs, and the pathetic Brown Wolves, who believe that because one in every hundred of them is born a little lighter in color, they deserve to be called Golden Wolves. But if it weren't for the Gray Wolves, they wouldn't even know that metal is valuable outside the forest," her father finished.
For a moment, Wail could detect tones of envy, racism, and disgust in his communication, but decided he'd imagined it.
"The most disgusting are the white wolves," her mother chimed in out of nowhere. "Especially the females. Remember this, pups, white wolves females are just plain whores, and you should never have anything to do with them." She finished and left.
Wail decided he'd imagined that too.
"What about the other two regions?" Wail asked.
His father looked at him and replied, "The far southern regions, past the Little Bear Mountains, are the cattle country. And beyond that is the great poison swamp, a region impossible to cross," his father said indifferently.
"Um, how do they measure the seasons if the weather never changes in these regions?" Wail asked, to Grok's surprise, not only because he was the only one who asked, but also because he was the only one who seemed interested, and it was the right question.
"Regions grow. In winter, the northern region grows in size; the same happens in the western region in summer, and the southern region in autumn. During spring, the central-eastern region is largest; they gain a few hundred kilometers of territory. The towers of Parrit exist to measure their growth," his father replied.
----------
And that conversation is what led him to this day. "The great feast" his father had called it. For a moment Wail thought it was like a harvest festival because of the way the place was set up, but he remembered that his father was a hunter, which means there was no point in celebrating a harvest that didn't exist. So when he asked again, his father explained—all the puppies in the family that were born two springs ago will be congratulated today—his father announced.
The place was packed; Wail and his brothers had never seen so many wolves together. They were all gathered in groups, while one particular group played music in the middle of the place —if it weren't for that, the place would be quieter than a cemetery— Wail thought, or at least that's what a person who couldn't read body language would think. In reality, the place was extremely bustling, everyone was talking and having fun, as much as gray wolves are capable of.
Groups of young wolves were staring at each other, sizing each other up. The largest group was Wail and his brothers. Aside from them, there was a family with five pups, and the rest had about three or four in general.