Another Name For Outcast Novels & Stories

A feeling I thought I had left behind when I left the Downfall Pack, but really would never forget for the life of me. The feeling… of being an outcast.

They believed that if I just gave in and said I was fine, all those crimes would disappear beneath a pile of money. However, I was no longer that little girl waiting at the far end of the long table for scraps of cold leftovers. Never again would I denigrate myself just to protect my family's reputation.

Two more days until I can leave this place. My name is Amara Reynolds, I don't own much but a cot as a bed, some shaggy old hand-me-down clothes, ragged sheets, one old pillow and this crimson-colored baby blanket that I was found wrapped up in. Yes, I am an orphan, luckily for me the Alpha of Munnin Moon Pack found me. He brought me back to his wife and Luna. They took good care of me for 12 years; I didn’t want anything. When I didn't get my wolf or lycan, everything changed. You would think that me being a child of an alpha, adopted or not, that everything would be ok. However, it wasn’t, my rank in the pack abruptly dropped, forcing me to the harsh treatment of life and my reality. Almos

And what was what got me exiled? God, that sounded so pathetic. I could tell they were waiting so I'll just settle on the full truth if I wanted to stay alive. "I was like an outcast in my own pack," I started, my voice cracking. "What am I saying?" I scoffed. "I was an outcast.

What does the term 'Rogue' mean to you? To some, it may mean a person that has been dishonest or disloyal. A person willing to go against the norm. To others, it could mean a person that's been cast out due to their savage or destructive tendencies. But to me, a rogue is just a person that has been condemned to live a life outcast from everyone else. A rogue is a person that's forced to fight for their survival on a regular and constant basis.

"But it is, Papa. I hate it when those Freeborns see us as an abomination." "And who says they are free?" Maduka laughs, "look at the bright side, my son. That they claim to be free doesn't make them free. And because we are excommunicated from the rest of the people doesn't make us inferior. Amadi or Osu (Freeborn or outcast), what keeps us bound or loose is innate. The desire to discriminate is deep in our blood. It's a human thing." "How?" Jide strokes his brow, "how can that be, I can't remember calling anyone an Outcast Or pushing them off the cliff because they forgot to greet me properly"

All this time, I’d believed that my whole family had been slaughtered, and just like that, I found out that my brother was alive! “It’s Rain now,” I told him, after we’d settled down in a corner by ourselves. “I’m a rogue now, so I’m using our old nickname to stay incognito.” “Rain” was the name we used to use when we would sneak out of the castle to mingle with the pack or to just go out and have fun in the human world. So for me to use that nickname was a way to remember where I came from and why I was doing what I did…

ATI way of doing things were more extreme, way more extreme and sadly just the kind of extreme that would make me get hurt. The new rumors were fueled by the teachers refusal to give out my name and instead of the students thinking that I am some one important, they starting thinking that I was maybe a disgrace to the realm. Disgraces were halflings or changlings or those whose parents literally shamed their race and were unable to get away with it. When you manage to get away with it, you are regarded by another name, praises are sung about you and everybody forgets the wrong deed that you did. As in the case of my mother.

"I'm wondering how much you have really changed?" Her pupils are pin-pricking. Her chest rising and falling more quickly... "Then too..." I continue, "I'm wondering too about the whole Sola business..." Her lips part, her breathing growing quicker... "Sola? An interesting choice. Meaning All alone? Well, you're bound to be alone, aren't you. When you slaughter every living soul that touches you..." Her lips are beginning to peel back, her knuckles whitening... "... But somehow, that didn't feel right. Who names themselves for being an outcast? Even when the casting-out is self-imposed..."

No magic to be had in our little traveling gig. No, we are just a bunch of misfits. Outcasts deemed unworthy, unlovable, the freaks of the very world these humans deny. I have found that in being cast out and being told we don’t exist, there is a balance to be struck in the middle. Being cast out is essentially the same as not existing. So we exist in the shadows. Out of the minds of those who don’t want us, but in the realm of fantasy for those who seek it.