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southerner mustered nearly all of his kind into a
single force and really pushed. The wolves had been more of a
confederation than anything up to that point. The system worked
because most of the strongest wolves had gone down to the border to
help resist cat incursions."
    "Why?"
    "Partly
civic duty. The areas of the south that were ruled directly by shape
shifters have always been the absolute worst cesspools. We knew that
we were the only thing keeping civilization from crumbling under the
onslaught. Partly though it was just to prove ourselves. The
strongest of us would go down to the border and cover themselves in
glory."
    "Confederations
don't usually work that well against a large external threat."
    Ash
nodded. "You're right. If we'd stayed as we were,
we wouldn't have survived. Dozens of small packs, each loosely
allied with larger packs. Instead one of the largest stepped forward
to lead in the face of the greatest threat we'd ever known, and
most of the rest of us flocked to them."
    "Most?"
    The
bitter laugh was back.
    "Not
my family. We led one of the largest packs and we never really
trusted our new 'king.' We ultimately bowed to the
pressures brought to bear on us, but we never forgot that slightly
different events could have left us with the crown instead of them."
    "What
happened after you threw the southerners back?"
    "We
didn't just throw them back. We hounded them well into South
America, killing every one of them we could find. Packs of hybrids
assassinated the strongest of the cats, decimating the leadership
they'd spent nearly a century hammering into place. When we
finally turned back and headed for home we'd killed hundreds of
cats and the few who survived were left to fight amongst themselves."
    "Then
what happened?"
    Ash's
hands went so white that I half worried he was going to rip the
steering wheel from the column.
    "Our
people aren't well suited to peace. We should have turned east
and started cleaning out the vampires, but at the time there weren't
that many people in the west, not enough really to support a large
population of vampires. The east was different. The vampires largely
didn't know of our existence. If we'd openly gone to war
against them that would have all changed."
    "So
you turned on each other instead?"
    It
was the logical course of events given everything he'd said so
far, but part of me winced a little when he nodded.
    "Yes.
We turned on each other, but not in the way that anyone expected. The
king was focused on trying to keep whole packs from breaking away. He
never anticipated that some of the most powerful hybrids, individuals
from widely dispersed packs, would combine against him. The fighting
was long and bloody and my ancestors chose not to intervene. We were
jealous of the king's power and thought that his defeat would
restore the old order."
    I'd
let my hand slide away from his arm, but as his voice caught again I
wished I'd left it there, that I had a way to comfort him.
    "We
were fatally wrong. We watched while the rogue hybrids tore through
dozens of the king's people and when the dust settled, instead
of both sides being worn down in the conflict, the rogues, the
Coun'hij, had decimated the old order with relatively few
losses of their own."
    "And
then they turned on your people?"
    "In
a way. They didn't get their hands dirty. A number of other
influential packs had likewise decided to sit the conflict out and
the Coun'hij knew that they couldn't stand off our entire
race. Instead of coming out openly against us, they informed a group
of vampires of our existence. In a single night the bloodsucking
parasites killed every dominant member of the pack. There was no
proof, but as one pack after another was torn apart it became obvious
that the Coun'hij had to be behind it. Only by then it was too
late. Our pack was a shadow of what it had been, our race was ruled
by a corrupt group of sadists and there was nobody strong enough to
contest their will."
     
     

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