It was a beautiful day outside. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming on days like this, wolfs like me should be out hunting with the pack. (I pretty much just copy off of good quotes) The winter breeze and death of pack members still hung freshly in the air. My two sisters had died from starvation not to long ago. If wolfs could cry I would be drowning in my own tears. Nobody seemed to even care about the fact I was grieving. They just told me to get over it. I said sorry like a million times but all they said was sorry doesn't feed hungry stomachs. (Another reference if you didn't notice) Those snarky remarks actually kept me in the dim cave. I didn't care one bit if the others called me a traitor. After all, in my eyes they're actually the traitors since they let their own pack members die, none the less PUPS, without feeling an ounce of sympathy. I didn't care how hungry I was. After all I was not leaving this den to get food. Not if I was to await the same fate as my sisters, not if I was to be committing suicide, not if I was threatened to leave the den or be killed. I was NEVER hunting for those demons that waited outside of my den ready for my heart to turn black just like theirs.

(Sorry for the short chapter its kind if like an prologue but I'm to lazy to change the title. Also don't worry Undertale will be introduced in the next chapter or one of the ones following right after it.)