"They will build me no shrines and sing me no songs”

Her pack was a small thing, consisting of namely kin, having carved a living for themselves among the base of untouched mountains. With the majority of members having dark coats, Minah's birth was unprecedented, as well as worrying for the pack elders. They warned her mother, her father, anyone who would listen, that she would ultimately bring nothing but misfortune to them.

The whispers started a month into her birth, when she once more made an appearance among her pack mates. Rotten food, crumbling stones, cracks of thunder, many a thing were labeled disasters Minah had caused. Though, despite it all, her parents still loved her.

That is until her pack mates began to fall ill.

An unknown illness began striking those around her down until her very litter mates succumb to it.

Having been kept well away from her litter mates out of fear, Minah lay unaffected, and as months went on, the litter of six whittled down to a sole survivor. By then her mother and father had all but fallen apart, her father having attempting to dispose of her on several occasions, but her mother, driven by love and fear, had blocked every and any attempt to harm her last surviving pup.

Her mother feared the retribution to be had should Minah's blood ever be spilled.

In the end, however, her own fear, and love, proved non-existent in the face of death.

When a wild fire broke out, her mother bid her child farewell in an effort to survive, only to be met with a grizzly death at the fangs of biting flames.

From the flickering flames, a lone figure appeared, one that would ultimately save, and alter Minah's life. Offering her a new home and a new family.