"Mountains Andalusia." I had given up on finding any pattern to the food synthesizer, so I randomly picked the first word that popped into my head each day. It became a sort of grim amusement.


    The food synthesizer in the cafeteria gave me... a plate of toast crusts.


    I shrugged. At least there was a small dish of something that looked like jam on the side. Since the base organic materials for food printing were the same, it didn''t really matter what the synthesizer made. The differences were only in texture and appearance, things that affect appetite but not nutrition.


    I had wondered if this was some kind of joke targeted at me, but my years of being bullied had taught me that bullies weren''t this patient. It was just another of the strange occurrences that seemed to happen around me. Compared to being able to dry myself off with a thought, this didn''t seem that odd--after all, who really understands the workings of food synthesizers or washing machines?


    I chose a corner seat and picked up a dry, hard crust, dipping it into the red jam. Let''s be optimistic--it might actually be jam.


    I sniffed it, but there was no real scent. Just as I was about to take a bite, a slap on the back of my head almost sent the crust into my nose.


    "Sorry..." said two passing wolves in mocking tones. "...mutt." They coughed the word out as if trying to hide it, but I was sure everyone in the cafeteria heard.


    I ignored the eyes waiting for a reaction and the cruel whispers. I was certain that one day, I would leave the Senate, unlike most wolves who spent their entire lives here. So, this would all end someday, as long as I was patient.


    I just wished the food synthesizer could give me something I could eat quickly. But life never gave me easy options. Skipping lunch was a regular occurrence, so if I didn''t want to be hungry until evening, I had to endure the less crowded morning times.


    Before I finished the tough and dry crusts, I encountered two more instances of harassment. At least today, no one tried to pour some liquid on me. Ah, spoke too soon.


    I felt the bubbling pink liquid splash onto my face. But I hadn''t tried to avoid it--I lacked the motivation. It wouldn''t change anything anyway.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Amid the laughter, I closed my left eye, listening to the sound of my clothes and fur on the left side soaking up the liquid, gathering at the tips of my fur and then dripping onto the floor.


    Life never gave simple options, right?


    At the washbasin in the shower room, I hung up my washed clothes and looked at myself in the mirror.


    Snow-white fur paired with eyes as blue as a cloudless sky. White fur and blue eyes were the standard look for all Snow faction wolves--I even had a black nose. I knew some Snows were mocked for having pink or spotted noses.


    Even though I looked the same on the outside, I, like everyone else, could tell at a glance that I was different.


    I grabbed my tail, searching through the tip until I found a small tuft of gray fur. Plucking them out one by one was painful, and they always grew back gray, but I still gritted my teeth and pulled them out, flushing them down the basin.


    The only good thing was that the gray fur was only at the tip of my tail.


    I looked at myself in the mirror again, half my fur still pink and wet, perfectly illustrating my image--a mutt. I focused on the faucet, cupping water in my hand, and a thought crossed my mind.


    I guided the water through my fur, dissolving and diluting the dirt, then letting it flow back into the sink.


    Wow, I actually managed it. I couldn''t help but smile at the pure white wolf in the mirror.


    I sensed a familiar presence approaching. Oh no, it''s him. The last person I wanted to see right now.


    "Are you going to let them do this to you?" Piqsirpoq''s voice was harsh, his arms crossed and his nose wrinkled, baring his fangs slightly.


    "I don''t think I have much of a choice..." I muttered, putting on my still-dripping shirt and starting to button it. I didn''t dare call him brother, knowing he wouldn''t allow it.


    "Why won''t you defend yourself?" He was in front of me in an instant, gripping my open collar and pinning me to the shower wall. I felt the cold tile against my back.


    "I don''t want to be like them..." I whispered, ears drooping and eyes averting his gaze.


    "So you''d rather be weak?" His voice rose as he grabbed my jaw, forcing me to look at him, my tail curling between my legs.


    "I''m not weak..." I mumbled, ears flat against my head.


    "Yes, you are. This is exactly what weakness looks like!" he shouted, fur bristling. I tried not to focus on his exposed fangs, but he brought his face close to mine. "Pathetic."


    He released me and stepped back, his icy eyes glaring down at me, as blue a frozen lake.


    I finished buttoning my shirt and straightened it, still staring at the floor.


    "No one wants you because you''re so useless." With that, Piqsirpoq turned and swinging his tail sharply to the left as he left the shower room.


    After making sure he was gone, I returned to the sink, wiped some water on my head and trying to perk my ears back up. I rubbed my eyes and sniffled. While tidying my fur, I wondered what others saw when they looked at this blue-eyed, white-furred wolf.