Good Names For Rogues 소설 & 이야기

Another Rogue. Only that this one has no smell.

In our realm, rogues are best known for killing their kind if they aren't given a chance. They're a great danger to packs because all they do is kill. We have a bad odor radiating from our bodies.No one can stand the unbearable smell of rotten flesh and rotten eggs. They're really easy to spot that's why they're easily killed. That way they're bestial But there are good rogues like me we don't kill people we just try to survive which is hard because there are rouges out who still want to kill us despite us not being bad.

The one who stood at his right hand side uttered with a deep voice, one which echoed into his ears and sent a chilling feeling down his bones and his spines. It was surprising they didn't smell. Were they rogues or just portray themselves as one? There is always this unique and pungent smell associated with rogues which this pack doesn't have. He was beginning to feel that they weren't rogues but just named rogues. The Alpha rogue had always been an elusive wolf that was had to come across but he was also known to be notorious. He converts and kills anytime without conscience as long as it goes against him. He was just like Starr.

He stopped speaking and faced me again. "That's all the members of the Werewolves packs?" I asked him. "There's actually this called the Rogues." "Who are they?" "Rogues are actually those wolves that have been outcast or left their packs." "It's like a human being when it comes to them, there are also outcasts." "Yeah." "So what else are you talking about them?"

Not when the pack needed me. “Who?” I asked, my voice steady despite the fear gnawing at the edges of my mind. “The ones who will stop at nothing to take you down,” he said, his gaze locked on the horizon, where dark shapes began to emerge from the trees. “The rogues. They’ve been waiting for this moment.” Rogues. The word sent a chill through me. They were outcasts, wolves who had been cast aside, abandoned by their packs, or gone rogue for reasons I couldn’t even begin to understand. But one thing was clear: they would stop at nothing to claim my power.

Most Rogues lived off the grid and liked it that way, favoring intense privacy over modern amenities. The houses were funded by a collective run by an anonymous benefactor, a wolf as infamous among Rogues as Maverick Grey was among the Grey Wolves. They called him the Rogue. Not a Rogue, but the Rogue. If there was a leader among the packless, the unwanted, the underdogs and scoundrels of shifter society, it was him. Though few had met him and lived to tell the tale, rumors painted him as a dark Robin Hood, fighting for the better treatment of her kind. He was as much myth and legend as he was a hero.