Daisy

When Daisy first arrived, she had already learned to expect the worst.

She had seen the way other wolves reacted to her pale fur, to the unnatural pink of her eyes. She had felt the subtle shift in body language, the hesitations, the avoidance. Albino wolves were rare, and rare things were often met with fear, suspicion, or quiet rejection.

So when she found Haru's pack, she expected much of the same—perhaps not cruelty, but distance, an unspoken understanding that she would always be other.

But Haru?

Haru was white as well. Not like her, not truly, but close enough that she had braced herself for something odd—a comparison, a comment, maybe even an attempt to claim kinship that wasn't real. Instead, he had looked at her the way he looked at everyone else—without expectation, without judgment.

"You're alone," he had said. Not a question, just a truth.

Daisy had glanced around, taking in the pack around him. Wolves of all kinds—some with mutations, some with afflictions, some with pasts that left them wary. Haru had built something here, something that she had never been offered before.

"I don't have to be," she had replied.

Haru had simply nodded, and that was it.

She stayed.

Daisy didn't just blend into the pack—she thrived. She was fast, strong, a capable hunter with a sharp mind. She became proof that difference didn't mean weakness. And when new wolves joined, the ones who had been cast aside like she had, she was the first to greet them, the first to remind them—

They were not alone anymore.