When Elara was in elementary school, she was all too happy to run errands to get along with her friends. Taking her time to select the perfect crayon sets and everything they had told her to bring from the teacher's table, she came fumbling back on her short legs.
"Here!" She handed out the supplies with a proud smile, almost tripping.
Hayley and her friends looked at each other and started giggling. Confused, she laughed with them, which only seemed to make them laugh harder.
"Thanks, Bambi." Hayley patted her head.
"Elara! And it's okay! My mommy told me I need to help my friends."
For some reason, her friends laughed more.
Most of the girls in her class were lycan-born — raised to see humans as fragile things meant to serve, but this was an intricacy in status Elara couldn't grasp at her age.
With her big green eyes and long lashes, Elara looked like a startled deer — and the girls loved reminding her of it.
"What about you, Elle? Aren't you going to draw?" Hayley asked when she noticed there were only three crayon packets in her arms.
Elara's chest puffed with pride. Her friends always had new, interesting things, and today she had something to show them, too.
"Here!" she took out a brand-new Little Artist crayon set from her bag, "My father got it for my birthday!"
The girls soon got back to drawing their family picture as the teacher had told them to. With her small fingers, Elara neatly unwrapped her sixth birthday gift, the 24-color crayon set her father had given her just last week.
"What is this? These crayons smudge everywhere!" Penny slapped her blue crayon on the desk, glancing at Elara's artwork and then at her own. "Bambi, how could you get me the broken ones!"
Penny's drawing was messy and barely recognizable compared to Elara's.
"Huh?" Little Elara blinked in surprise before hopping out of her seat. "This... I'll get you new ones now!"
Grabbing the crayon set from Penny, she ran, but then turned around. "And it's Elara, Penny."
She heard giggles from behind, but focused on selecting the best crayons. Placing the crayons in a pile, she checked packets until she beamed.
She had just found the perfect one at the end of the pile: a brand-new Little Artist Special Crayon set, one with thick crayons that everyone in class wanted!
Smiling triumphantly, she ran back, breathless. "Penny, see what I found-"
Her steps faltered— Penny already had a crayon set.
Elara turned to see her own set missing. Looking around frantically, her eyes landed on Hayley aggressively rubbing a familiar-looking crayon. Before her, spread out like captured treasure, was Elara's crayon set— the one she had only used once, for fear she might break a crayon.
Elara's little chest contracted. She lunged forward, snatching the crayon from Hayley's hand and then the rest from her desk, clutching them to her chest with trembling fingers as tears formed in her eyes.
"Give me the crayons, Elle!" Hayley pouted. She reached again. Elara clutched the packet tighter, shaking her head.
"I-It's mine, you stole them! My father got it for me!"
Hayley's face reddened as the whole class started looking at her like a thief. Penny and Henna laughed behind their hands, too.
Hayley's bottom lip trembled, "It's mine!" she tried to snatch it from the younger human girl. The snap of cheap plastic cracking echoed in the room.
"No!" Elara cried in grief.
The young girl looked at the half crayon in her hand, heartbroken. In her impulsive rage, she shoved the older girl, a desperate push from a child's small arms.
The lycan-born didn't move an inch. Even as children, lycans had strength no human could match, so naturally, she was much stronger than a human, much younger than her. Her teary eyes widened in childish rage. She shoved Elara back— one swift, careless push.
'THWACK!'
The world spun. The young Elara's small body hit the cabinet six feet behind them. Pain burst white at the back of her skull as crimson liquid spilled under her head.
Voices rushed together— laughter, gasps, whispers.
Darkness.
What the young girl barely remembered was waking up to her father kneeling on the carpet in the principal's office and her mother sobbing, clutching her.
"...Do you even realize how much a servant's daughter has traumatized my little girl…" A woman was shouting.
Little Elara couldn't comprehend why humans in packs weren't equal to lycans. Humans worked under them, doing cumbersome tasks that lycans didn't want to do, their usefulness measured by their worth alone.
She heard her father rasp, "…I beg forgiveness... I'm..."
Elara tried to sit up, but the roar of voices crowded her ears. The room tilted, only for darkness to cloud her vision again.
That day, a trivial fight between children destroyed Elara's happy little family forever.