Novel & Cerita Feral Behavior

The crowd dispersed as interested participants trickled into the next compartment. Out of nowhere, Clara’s happy face jumped into view. "Hey, you” She smiled, her eyes twinkling behind the purple hue surrounding them. She was partyborn, a stark contrast to the rummage that sat in her stomach. She wanted nothing more than to go back home. She looked down at what was in her hand. Its tip was golden sparks of fur.

But the smallest flicker of breath passed her lips was enough to keep me moving. I carried her up the slope even as every muscle braced like I was carrying fate itself. When I broke into the clearing near the pack house, wolves turned, eyes narrowing, confusion sparking. My Beta, Rian, stepped forward, brows drawn tight. “You’re bringing a rogue into our walls?” His voice was low and edged. A ripple of agreement ran through the others. Rogues meant danger, sickness, chaos. I met his stare with mine, the air thickening with my dominance. “She comes in,” I said. “Now move.”

There was only one creature who made that sound. “Ferals,” Thor said, his eyes wide. Ferals were terrifying beasts that roamed the forests between the sectors. Part wolf, part something else, they had red eyes and limbs that bent in strange directions. They also had a blood lust that ruled their senses. They were fast. They were viscous. And by the sounds of it, they were headed right towards us. “They must have released ferals into the forest,” Thor said. “We’re not dying quick enough. The nobility is getting restless. So they’re trying to speed up the process. We…”

​The "Feral-Reset" wasn't a bomb or a gas. It was a frequency—a "Primal-Scream" designed to trigger the most violent, unguided instincts of the Lycan biology. As the Architects activated the signal, Rhea felt her mind fracture. ​The "sweetness" of the pack-bond was replaced by a red haze of pure, mindless aggression. Her wolf didn't want to protect; it wanted to tear. It wanted to kill Marcus, to rip the throat out of Sela, to feast on the very people she had sworn to save.

Through a combination of therapy sessions, group activities, and holistic approaches such as art therapy and meditation, we aim to empower our beneficiaries to overcome their past traumas and build a brighter future. For those who have regressed into a feral state, we have established specialized programs that focus on rehabilitation and reintegration. Our team of animal behaviorists and trainers work closely with these individuals, using patience, understanding, and positive reinforcement techniques to help them rediscover their humanity. Through structured routines, socialization exercises, and gradual exposure to the outside world, we guide them on a transformative journey towards reclaim

“I brought my mate.” Murmurs erupted. “A human cannot be Luna,” another elder snapped. “The land will reject her.” “She carries no wolf,” said a third. “No lineage.” Ares smiled. It was not kind. “You presume too much,” he said. Varrek narrowed his eyes. “Is it true the bond is feral?” The chamber stilled. Ares’s silence was answer enough. Several alphas shifted uneasily. “That kind of bond has not existed for centuries,” Varrek pressed. “It is unstable. Dangerous. You risk losing control.”

A feral wolf. I’ve never seen one before, but I’ve heard stories. They are worse than rogues, because without their human they are utterly devoid of any compassion or sanity. Briefly, I feel sorry for this wolf. Given his size and colour, he’s clearly an Alpha, or maybe a powerful Beta. The only reason they tend to go feral is banishment or the loss of their mate. This poor soul. What happened to make him like this?

Chapter 2 As the pack territory slowly passes by, I decide to rest my eyes. Breeders are given an area on the far-west side of the territory where no one will be able to disturb them. That area is patrolled and guarded day and night. It will be a community I call home for however long my stay is, but deep down, I know I can never allow the cottage I will be living in to be my home. A prison, yes, but never my home.

Zander's eyes didn’t just resemble a Royal feral wolf. He was feral. He had to be, for them to be shining with amber as they were. A second later Rose's observation clicked into place and she scrambled back on her hands until there was nowhere left for her to go. He wasn't feral. He was under the influence of a heat haze, which to be fair highly resembled feral. Logic and sense were all but foreign concepts to wolfs in a heat haze. Afflicted wolfs operated purely off instinct and want.

he said, nodded and turned his horse back down the road. Kaelen didn't say anything on the walk back and Kaelen always had something to say. "Kaelen," I said. He looked at the ground for another few steps. "It's hunting," he said. "Not rotting the land, it's also not spreading passively or spontaneously. It's moving with purpose, the livestock, the feral in the den, this." He gestured vaguely back toward the ditch. "Whatever is driving it, it's directing it. And if the spread continues at this pace…" He paused. "Pack lands. Weeks. Maybe less than weeks."