Irene, the Luna of the Blue Moon pack, or well, would be if her father would let her lead the pack alone. For now, though, she was just called 'the Alpha's daughter' not to say she wasn't strong, smart or sought after. She had no siblings, though even if she did, she was firstborn, so she would inherit the pack anyways since her father didn't follow the whole first-born male thing. Her father knew she was fit to run it on her own. She was a strong, pure blood alpha werewolf, which tended to be very rare in the werewolf world and had more base strength than an average wolf. Her father was worried about what others who still lived in their misogynistic ways would say, believing a woman couldn't lead a pack. She'd show them, it wasn't even an internal issue, everyone in her pack liked and respected her, it was more of an external issue with the other packs thinking that way. She had also already and very quickly made it very clear she wouldn't be taking a chosen mate. Let's just say, the last guy her parents tried to have her take will forever have half the fertility rate he once did. Brutal, yes, but to her, it was their own damn fault for thinking even a little bit she'd ever give in, and the guy's fault for having the balls to be a jerk to her, so she figured maybe now he'd have half the audacity. She giggled to herself at the thought and memory. After the fact, she'd warned her parents and any alphas visiting at that time that if anyone tried anything they'd share the same fate. What she did didn't go down so well though, since the guy was an alpha's son, what she did almost started a war. In all honesty, her actions probably would've if her pack's warriors weren't as much more well-trained than theirs, and they didn't dare demand any recompense for fear of what would happen, no matter what they asked for as recompense besides some money or something monetary. Of course, being werewolves, there are two types of dangerous humans, the paranoid who believe they exist and hunt them to try to prove to the world they are real, and the ones that know they exist and hunt them either out of sport or out of fear. You can guess who the more dangerous of the two are, between belief and knowing, though there were very few werewolf hunters around. Some people think that werewolves are uncontrollable monsters, the ones that don't think that has the wrong idea of how they live and such, and others think they're sex-crazed lunatics to each other, or period until a mate is found. The idea is worse for men, which, speaking of, that stereotype about men, especially male wolves both is not only a sexist misconception but probably proposed by either some dirty gal or an envious little pig. That's Irene's idea of those stories anyway, because one hears it a lot in stories. She's heard more about that kind of sexist idea about a man, be it a werewolf or a human, than she has about any women, not to say there weren't ones with some women being like that, and there are a lot of sexist things about women and all of it irritates her. Regardless, werewolf hunters are very dangerous, even the ones that simply believe or yet the few that hope we exist. Most that hunt for sport or out of fear, at least know to arm themselves with silver and things like that, despite how few there are, they've done a lot of damage to the wolf population over the years. Much like humans, the werewolves had their own laws added to the human law. One of them is that a human may only be harmed if they harm a wolf, because humans are far weaker than them and there is a very real chance they may accidentally kill the human or humans if they fight. Of course, normally a hunter was typically easy to find and spot, so wolves just avoided them until they passed by, though there was the odd occasion where wolves had to… make the human… disappear. There was also the existence of rogues, other supernaturals, etcetera, but those were separate issues. Irene was out on patrol, patrolling the borders herself, making sure everything was well and everyone was doing as they were supposed to be. Normally, her father's beta would be doing this kind of thing, but her wolf half, Mazie, was strongly urging her to go patrolling for some reason, so she shifted and went on patrol. Mazie was pacing more and more in her mind until Irene reached a specific spot. Mazie paced less as they got further away from said spot. "What's wrong?" Irene asked Mazie. The concern was evident in her voice. "I sensed something, not sure what. We should go check it out." She'd stated in reply, her voice was full of uncertainty, though Irene figured it was probably some human probably wandering in the forest, though she let Mazie have control and just watched through her eyes as they wandered away from the pack, following whatever the wolf half was sensing until suddenly she heard a loud bang followed by a searing pain in her side followed by a low growl. She stood in front of a hunter, letting out a low, menacing growl. She was an alpha. A single little silver bullet alone wasn't going to kill her, based on where it hit anyway. Although it'd hurt like a bitch, probably knock her out pretty quickly, but most likely it would take a good while before it being there actually threatened my life. The human had just loaded another bullet when another had come over, told the man off, threatened him, and destroyed his gun. As the human turned to her, Mazie growled out in her mind the last word Irene thought she'd hear as of now, whether in her mind or she spoke it out loud, and about a human at that, "mate." Though, that was the last thought that went through her head before she'd fallen unconscious from the poison that was the silver from the silver bullet.
