Warning: the following contains some questionable remarks. Proceed at your own risk. (Nothing too bad, but a disclaimer is always a nice warning).
The White Wolves : The Hunt.
A long time ago there was a pack of wolves that roamed in the North American area known as Yellowstone National Park. At the time, however, America had been founded not to long ago, and Yellowstone had yet to be proclaimed 'protected'. In the area there was two seperate people contesting over the land. One was a tribe of natives that you will not find in any history book, and the other was a town of 'settlers'.
The shaman of the natives was old, and time had ravaged his once stout heart and frame. With the settlers poisons and diseases they were destroying his people, and soon there would be none remaining. For a long time he called apon the spirits of the forest, but it seemed they had abandoned him to the mercy of his enemies. In his darkest hour he turned to the fox. Now the fox was a cunning and tricky spirit, one full of what we would call evil. The fox told the shaman that it would help him, make him invincible in battle. Only the shaman's own children would be able to defeat him in battle. Now the shaman was wise, but his mind was clouded with grief and torment. Knowing he had no children, he accepted the fox's help.
The fox of course had decieved the old man, for while he was invincible in battle, he would have the mind of a beast. The shaman was transfomed into a werewolf, and not even his own people were safe from his unholy appetite for destruction. For years he was unconquerable, many on both sides died by his claws, and even more were injured. Eventually, though, even a beast will search out a mate. He found one. It was not a human, but a silver wolf. Now silver wolves were not common, and even less so in the area, but yet he found one. Being both man and beast he was easily able to subdue her and mate with her. Not long after 6 wolves came into this world.
Now they were what you might call albino wolves. Pure white from nose to tail, with soft pink eyes. Their mother was not just any wolf, however, but she was the spirit wolf that the natives reveared. She knew that she could not undo what the fox had done, but she also knew that the fox had put a limit on it's curse. The beasts own flesh and blood would be able to stop him, and she had sacrificed her own being to have his children. When they were old enough, she told them of their father, and charged them with ensuring that he did no more harm. They listened patiently, and agreed to do whatever they could to stop him.
For many nights they chased their father, managing to stop his unholy feast, but never unwilling to kill him. They hope to redeem him. To this day they still are out there, only at night on a full moon. Waiting, watching, protecting. Until they can bring themselves to kill their own father, they will wait...and if you listen carefully you can hear their mornful cries still. They cry to him forlornly, hoping to reach that part of him that is still good, maybe just maybe they will reach him one day. Until that one day, it is wise never to travel into the forest at night, especially on the full moon.
Warning, may cause confusion, blindness, raising of eybrows, and insanity.