Stigma Of The Wind Novels & Stories

The wind blew harshly like it was going to rain, the cloud was getting darker as droplets of rain fell to the ground. Everyone ran helter skelter to prevent being touched by the rain. Only those who had an umbrella with them were lucky, but to those who doesn't, they were totally soaked wet with water. Some, especially those who had their stuffs outside lossed most of their goods to the wind. The rain didn't seem to be the ordinary one that falls, it's more like it has been offended. Now the question is... What really got it this offended?? Stacy closed every windows, as the direction of the wind went versatile. And the cold wind which accompanied fit elt like frozen ice to the skin.

I could make them move. I saw it in the Eldest’s eyes - a flicker of genuine fear. Not of what I might do to the pack, but of the fact that they could no longer control the narrative. The 'Stigma' was a paper tiger, and I had just set it ablaze. They are beginning to understand, Isis hummed, her spirit pressing against mine in a rare moment of pure alignment. You aren't a guest in their house, Cara. You are the storm that decides if the house stands at all.

"Whisper Wind." "Exactly," Fennigan said, standing up, his energy radiating through the room. "We accuse him of the destruction of Whisper Wind. We don't make it about the twins. We make it about the Earth. We trigger a tribunal that forces him to leave his glass tower and stand in the middle of the wasteland he created." "And once he is there," Leela whispered, her eyes glowing with elemental power, "he isn't hidden anymore. The earth remembers what he did. If he steps foot on that poisoned soil..."

He had a way of convincing anyone by saying so little however there was always the hard hearts. “Look we can stop out people from going but we can’t stop those who already have. She can’t start a war with them but she can shake the world. I think I speak for everyone when I say that it a about time people felt our grievance. The stigma and suffering we have to endure because we are witches.” Oscala glanced at the guy who said that. He did not slow the fellow any sign that he was pleased.

Of names I have many, of names I have one. Then it clicked. It was something every pack knew, something we lived with in the wild. Something that could be a soft whisper or a destroying force. A wave. No. That wasn't quite right. The wind. Yes. The wind could be a small breeze or a hurricane gale. People hit the wind when they run into it. Everyone fears a storm. Wind dances to the music of the trees. It has many names: breeze, gale, zephyr, tornado, but it is one thing. And you can’t run from the wind; it’s everywhere.

If this was her mate, she deserved so much better, and in time she’ll realise that mates are meant to be a gift, not a curse. I found it hard not to relate it to my own current predicament. But I didn’t have the love of a solid family behind me like Rosa, I was pregnant and alone. I was starting to show now, my belly had massively grown in one day and I was now starting to find the waistband of my clothes getting too tight. Everyone would soon know, soon start whispering that I was mate-less but pregnant. That I would be burden to this pack. Stigma always sticks.

Chapter 58 Antonio's pov The wind was a playful whisper amongst the towering pines as it carried the scent of damp earth and pine needles. It was a smell I knew intimately, a smell that had become synonymous with my mine. I was already seated at the entrance of storm pack when I heard whispers and hushed murmurs in the wind. Tales of a hidden path, a ritual, a chance for a rogue to return to the fold. It was a dangerous path, fraught with trials, tests designed to weed out the unworthy. But I was determined, fuelled by a burning desire to reclaim my rightful place. That throne, the one on my mind must be taken.

An elderly woman beside me suddenly says, bringing the events from last night rushing into my mind and I stiffen and lower my head as the steam emitting from the rim of my mug of chocolate smears across my face. A moment of silence follows as if they all realize it's a sensitive topic but the voice comes again, sounding tender and empathic as she goes on to say, “It’s not a stigma to bear nor a curse upon us like the rest of the Pack thinks. They’re just ignorant because we’re different in ways they can’t comprehend and they shun us for their impatience and ignorance. Then again, how can you find patience for what you don’t encompass in knowledge?”

Mrs Woods was one of these people that you would categorize as a saint because things that other teachers won't do, she always does them easily. “Alphason, a word,” I turned to the principal as the other people filled out of his office. “Just what do you intend to do about this mess? You and I know that rules and consequences can only go so far with the damage that will be incurred by the victim,” the principal said to me and I sighed. “Sir, I have a plan but the Alphas have to approve of it. Tackling stigma is not black and white, I hope it gets approved and then we can move from there,” I said to the principal and I pushed the letter I had submitted to the Alpha king to him.

The breeze eddied in front of her face. It did not caress. It did not slap. It just hovered, cool and implacable. “We carry news,” the wind said. “Not choices. But we’ve watched you, storm-wolf. Since the first night you screamed at the sky. Since you walked out alone instead of folding in.” Snow swirled around her in small, tight spirals, not enough to blind, enough to wrap her in a moving veil. “We saw you call cloud and crack earth,” it went on. “We saw you *turn back.* We saw you *heal.*”