Sokka Novels & Stories

"Right. I love how you care for them." "Believe me when I say that they take care of themselves more than I take care of them. You should hear the noise they make when they are not busy. Their discussions are super noisy, it's just my luck that I am not always in the house." He said, "The rest fall asleep before I come back from work. Only Sara keeps awake till she sees me." "She's faithful." "Faithful and intimidating at the same time." He said with a smile. "Have you eaten?"

I’ll never be able to drink tequila again without thinking of him, that’s for sure. I see Erik still watching me. I hand him his shirts. “Five black belts? That’s incredible. All this time you never mentioned it.” “That was a long time ago, I’m not that person anymore.” I can’t help but ogle him and he catches me checking out his Nordic styled tattoos. There’s a chariot on each pec, one pulling the sun, one pulling the moon, each being chased by a wolf. “This is Sköll,” he points to one of the wolves, “and this one Hati. They chase the sun and moon.”

She is the first tribrid in history. “What is his name?” “Nicolai Petrov, Alpha of Winter’s Moon Pack.” Dakota prints out another blueprint and crumbles it up, chanting again. I don’t really like this plan but Ahsoka is right. I pray to our vampire god, Cian as well as to the wolf goddess, Luna, for our safety.

Zelda listened attentively, eager to absorb the essence of their stories and understand the intricate dynamics within the pack. Sasha's pack was a vibrant tapestry of personalities, each bringing unique strengths and talents to the table. There were the seasoned warriors, their eyes gleaming with stories of valor and triumph. The healers, with their gentle touch and profound knowledge of herbal remedies, embodied a sense of compassion and care. The elders, wise and revered, offered guidance and shared the wisdom accumulated through generations.

The idea of wishing a noble dead sounds completely blasphemous to my ears; nobles are nobles by birth, hence they are ordained by the gods. "Don't hush me," she snapped. From the little time I've spent with Soka, I've realized she has a lot in common with Mina; they do not know how to bite their tongues. Soka is beautiful and has the confidence that goes with it. Her maid uniform hangs at every curve, from her full burst to her impossibly tiny waist to her rounded hips. Her pitch-dark hair and eyes are a heavy contrast to her almost pale skin. "He threw a cup at me. Who throws a cup at someone?" She asks as if I'm expected to answer; I give her a shrug and continue cleaning her wound.

He was wearing a hikitate-eboshi (black bird) hat and a gray battle surcoat. “The quartermaster is named Kosano. I believe Sasha fought him and managed to drop him overboard. He wields a pair of tonfas because he used to be martial arts police. He became corrupt and decided to give up his marshal’s star for gold. Now he runs most of the slave trade operations in the south. He’s from there and an earth Slayer. He’s dark-skinned, wears a bandana on his head and, if you look closely, you’ll find he’s missing a pinky…”

I managed to get to the manual labor in time before it ended. “What took you so long?” Lake whispered as we checked in for the night. “I saw him” “The guy from the cafeteria?” “Yes,” I smiled. Lake stared intently at me to continue, and when I didn't, she scowled. I chuckled. “And?” “His name is Vok “ “Vok?” She gasped. I nodded. Was anything wrong? Was he like a hedge? But he seemed too Nice to be like Hedge. “Vok is the beta of the pack”

I can’t skip it. By the time I make it to the training ground, everyone’s already gathered. The chatter dies down as Luna Serena steps forward, her presence commanding. She scans the crowd, her usual calm and authoritative expression firmly in place. “Alright, today’s going to be… fun,” she begins, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips. The word ‘fun’ sounds like a threat. “I’ve brought in someone special for you all—a combat master.” Excited whispers ripple through the group until she steps aside, revealing a small, unassuming woman with a name tag that reads "Coach Morgan." She’s shorter than anyone here—barely over five feet—with wiry arms and a steely glint in her eye.

It’s familiar, foreign, and powerful as his cinnamon shading. “Selection,” he answers in a gentler but no less deep voice when I continue to sit tilting my head at him like a confused puppy. “Aya!” The velvety voice of my friend Soko saves me further embarrassment. Or maybe not. “Way to get your Lunamin on!” the chocolate haired Meshin cheers. Looking me up and down in Sai’s borrowed clothes. He shredded mine. “Oh, how was your first time? Who broke you in? When? Where?.....” Those five identifiers repeat in her vivacious chipperness making me wonder what organ I just swallowed to put back in its natural placement. With none other than Ren Hosa walking up behind the stranger. 42: Ayame – Sug

Dakota instantly turned growling but stopped when he saw Lokais wolf standing over Sairo. “Shit, how could we forget Sairo? Jennie will be fine. She’s on Rain, she’ll take her back to the village. Let’s send out a link to the border to protect her on the way in but don’t let her see them.” Dakota nodded and rushed over to Sairo who was no longer breathing. Lokai let out a painful howl, full of sorrow. They grew up together, they were best friends. We joined Lokai in his mournful howl. Lokai had shifted back, and was picking Sairo up. “I can carry Sairo, Lokai”