◆ wren ◆
︾ ︾ ︾ ︾ ︾ ︾
ｔａｇ ; anthos
age ; four years
gender ; she-wolf
crush ; open
rank;; lead huntress - leukos pack
"Lupus, Anthos! It's just training, not a real fight." Wren panted as she loped away from her assailant. She and her uncle did this every morning for the past few months. They'd wake up before the majority of the pack, just as the sun made its trek across the morning sky, and spar for an hour or so. This stemmed from Wren's insecurities about her strength. The she-wolf was built for hunting; smaller, impeccably quick, and lean. The last one was much to her chagrin. Once, she had organized a large hunt as the lead hunter. Things were going amazingly, they were just about to take down a buck when one of the larger hunters got hurt and she had to finish the job. The buck flung the small fae off like she was a feather and got away. Since then, she's focused on becoming stronger and honing her fighting abilities.
"Be prepared for everything." Chrysanthos, Anthos for short, replied. He was panting as well, but still circling her and ready for another blow. Anthos was one of the finest fighters she'd ever met, which is a part of why he's alpha. Wren shook her head and backed off from their makeshift arena, a circular clearing.
"That's okay, don't want to push the elders." She smiled innocently and her uncle rolled his eyes. "Don't forget I'm the alpha Wren. My niece or not." Instantly, she wiped the smile off her face and sobered. "Right, sorry. I forget sometimes." Anthos was more a brother to her. The two were only two years apart and they used to play together when they were young. Now he has changed and with his rank comes lots of responsibility. The she-wolf dipped her head and turned. "I'm going to catch some breakfast." And with that, she was flying through the trees after a scent.
It was a beautiful morning for early spring. The winter were over for the Leukos wolves and now life would flourish. She could feel it in the way the forest buzzed - from months of cooped up energy finally emerging. The sun was slightly higher in the sky as the she-wolf padded through the forest, bringing light to all the crevices in the ground and trees. This made hunting a lot easier. Wren trotted over a fallen branch and towards her favorite hunting spot. It was secluded, for most wolves wouldn't travel as far as she would. Wren preferred hunting without eyes following her. Her ears pricked at the sound of hollowed footsteps on the forest floor. Judging by the light feet and how quick the steps were, the fae guessed it was a rabbit. Soon after detecting the sounds, a scent wafted to her snout, confirming her original assumption. Wren picked a scent she favored and came across a rabbit drinking from a gurgling brook. Slowly, the female eased into a crouch. Her eyes narrowed in concentration before scanning the brook and everything around it.
Amber eyes stared ruefully through the gaps of the bush in front of her. Though the rabbit expected nothing, to Wren, the air was thick with tension, like a cord stretched taut. With a large leap, Wren caught the animal in her jaws and dispatched it. The animal dangled loosely and swayed as she began her long walk back to camp, where no doubt some wolves would be hungry. The nimble wolf trotted along the trails in absolute silence. She was small for a female, thus light on her feet. Instead of being big and mucular, Wren was smaller and nimble. It gave her a large advantage in hunting, so she put all her effort toward her rank and it payed off for her.
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Ａ Ｎ Ｔ H O Ｓ
︾ ︾ ︾ ︾ ︾ ︾
ｔａｇ ; wren
age ; six years
gender ; brute
crush ; open
rank;; alpha male - leukos pack
Anthos watched his niece walk away and sighed. He wished he could joke with her like he used to. Becoming the alpha made him serious and aloof, though he'd always had a bit of those traits in him. Perhaps it was only the harsh winter that put a damper on his mood. It was now spring, which meant things were changing. The alpha promised he'd be one of those things. With a gentle shake of the head, the male padded back toward the direction of camp, where he bet his pack would be rousing from their deep sleeps.
The forest was eerily quiet. He walked on his toes just to keep it that way. To disturb the peace with his heavy paws seemed wrong. Anthos was born for fighting, not stalking. His massive and muscled frame was not the least bit considered dainty. Any wolf could tell just by him clamoring among the trees. That didn't stop him from trying though, as he maneuvered through the forest. Their sparring area was not too far away, so in a few moments he found himself back at the entrance of the camp. Some wolves were awake and moving, others still asleep. Deciding not to bother everyone, he settled at the highest point in the territory. It was a flat rock that lay on the crest of a hill. Behind it was his large den, fit for an alpha.
This was his favorite spot. Anthos could survey his territory while keeping to himself. There were many trees that dotted the camp but none that obscured his view. But besides his own territory, he could eye the valley that separated the Leukos and the Austeros. For years, the two packs had gotten closer and closer to brawling. One wolf would stray a bit too close to the other's territory, or one would chase prey into the other's territory and be unable to finish the job. Each instance had driven a stake between the packs, further and further until Anthos feared they would crack.
This wasn't just a hunch, either. Anthos had been having the same recurring dream for weeks now. The scene was horrifying. His eyes were stained with deep shades of scarlet as wolves tore into each other mercilessly. He found, each night, he couldn't look away or divert his attention. Always, the moon was orange, hanging in the sky like a beacon. He couldn't recognize his pack mates as hard as he tried, for when the image started to focus, he would wake up. Every morning Anthos will snap awake, wildly tossing about his den until he realized where he was. The dreams made him grow weary, and he felt his eyelids droop as he looked across at his territory.
The forest was eerily quiet. He walked on his toes just to keep it that way. To disturb the peace with his heavy paws seemed wrong. Anthos was born for fighting, not stalking. His massive and muscled frame was not the least bit considered dainty. Any wolf could tell just by him clamoring among the trees. That didn't stop him from trying though, as he maneuvered through the forest. Their sparring area was not too far away, so in a few moments he found himself back at the entrance of the camp. Some wolves were awake and moving, others still asleep. Deciding not to bother everyone, he settled at the highest point in the territory. It was a flat rock that lay on the crest of a hill. Behind it was his large den, fit for an alpha.
This was his favorite spot. Anthos could survey his territory while keeping to himself. There were many trees that dotted the camp but none that obscured his view. But besides his own territory, he could eye the valley that separated the Leukos and the Austeros. For years, the two packs had gotten closer and closer to brawling. One wolf would stray a bit too close to the other's territory, or one would chase prey into the other's territory and be unable to finish the job. Each instance had driven a stake between the packs, further and further until Anthos feared they would crack.
This wasn't just a hunch, either. Anthos had been having the same recurring dream for weeks now. The scene was horrifying. His eyes were stained with deep shades of scarlet as wolves tore into each other mercilessly. He found, each night, he couldn't look away or divert his attention. Always, the moon was orange, hanging in the sky like a beacon. He couldn't recognize his pack mates as hard as he tried, for when the image started to focus, he would wake up. Every morning Anthos will snap awake, wildly tossing about his den until he realized where he was. The dreams made him grow weary, and he felt his eyelids droop as he looked across at his territory.
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→ amara ←
︾ ︾ ︾ ︾ ︾ ︾
ｔａｇ ; amara
age ; five years
gender ; she-wolf
crush ; open
rank;; beta female - austeros pack
A meadow. Soft greens, lilacs, periwinkles, yellows and burnt oranges. Beautiful flowers dotted across the small humps in the hill, like backward grooves. The sun was shining brightly, a gentle, warming touch upon a pelt. The wind was blowing ever so slowly, like a cloud was blowing lazily down at the earth. With ease passing breeze the grass would sway and the flowers would dance, the leaves of the trees brushing against each other to create a soft jingle, like a wind chime. Everything about this wonderfully painted picture was made for utter peace and tranquility. Except for those who inhabited it.
Scars tearing across skin, tip of tail torn by claws, strong, muscled legs, and two piercing green eyes that glowed in the shadows. Amara was picturesque, but in all the wrong ways. Her whole jenesequa spelt bad news. She was the big bad wolf mothers warned their pups of. A delicate smile feathered its way onto her face, smooth and daunting. The fae was bewitching, wolves fell to her feet from her beauty or the power she exerted.
And yet, she was only the beta female.
This is the wolf that killed Darren, the infamous killer and previous alpha before Sniper. The Austeros had different laws, killing an alpha was considered something to be praised for, and she assumed she would take the rank. But Sniper had slivered his way in and she was left second in command. The thought made her lip curl and hackles rise slightly. Amara deserved to be alpha. If she could, she would kill Sniper as well. But she was smart enough to know he'd take her down in a fight and she wouldn't live to see another day.
Amara had a hard exterior, but she is not evil. She was guided to do the things she did by her previous mentor, and along the way lost herself. A part of her will always crave power, to hell all else. And Darren was a cruel leader. He spat on any wolf below his station, herself included. She planned a careful assassination, and the deed was done.
Amara regained her thoughts. Finally, after a long hunting spree, she was able to go back to her pack. She strode slowly, quiet, into camp, dropping two rabbits and a squirrel at her feet. The territory was eerily silent, and the fae made sure to watch her back for awhile. Amara settled in a grassy patch, licking her bloodied paws. In order to get the rabbit, he had to go into the thorns, but it was worth it. It had led to her to a secret area for deer to graze, but they were all strong and too quick for him to take down that second.
Scars tearing across skin, tip of tail torn by claws, strong, muscled legs, and two piercing green eyes that glowed in the shadows. Amara was picturesque, but in all the wrong ways. Her whole jenesequa spelt bad news. She was the big bad wolf mothers warned their pups of. A delicate smile feathered its way onto her face, smooth and daunting. The fae was bewitching, wolves fell to her feet from her beauty or the power she exerted.
And yet, she was only the beta female.
This is the wolf that killed Darren, the infamous killer and previous alpha before Sniper. The Austeros had different laws, killing an alpha was considered something to be praised for, and she assumed she would take the rank. But Sniper had slivered his way in and she was left second in command. The thought made her lip curl and hackles rise slightly. Amara deserved to be alpha. If she could, she would kill Sniper as well. But she was smart enough to know he'd take her down in a fight and she wouldn't live to see another day.
Amara had a hard exterior, but she is not evil. She was guided to do the things she did by her previous mentor, and along the way lost herself. A part of her will always crave power, to hell all else. And Darren was a cruel leader. He spat on any wolf below his station, herself included. She planned a careful assassination, and the deed was done.
Amara regained her thoughts. Finally, after a long hunting spree, she was able to go back to her pack. She strode slowly, quiet, into camp, dropping two rabbits and a squirrel at her feet. The territory was eerily silent, and the fae made sure to watch her back for awhile. Amara settled in a grassy patch, licking her bloodied paws. In order to get the rabbit, he had to go into the thorns, but it was worth it. It had led to her to a secret area for deer to graze, but they were all strong and too quick for him to take down that second.
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✖ reed ✖
︾ ︾ ︾ ︾ ︾ ︾
ｔａｇ ; none
age ; four years
gender ; brute
crush ; accaila has caught his eye.
rank;; healer - austeros pack
The wolf was annoyed by the bright sun shining into his 'den', as she liked to call it. It was really just a patch of grass Reed frequented, which was under a light film of foliage. The leaves were propped up to protect her from the harsher elements, but it was so worn the sun began to show through the top and speckled onto the sleeping healer's face. Reed opened an eye and groaned. It was a late night for the wolf, gathering his herbs and trying to soothe his own ailments, so he hoped to catch an hour extra of sleep. However, the sun had other ideas.
Regrettably, Reed left his den. He let out a soft yawn, shaking his head to wake himself. The male had barely slept due to his condition. He must have caught a kind of cold, which caused him to hack until his airway was free again. And of course, it would come back again and worse. The brute let out a throaty cough, which pained his lungs. He'd be okay in another day, as his knowledge of the illness reminded him, for he had taken the herbs needed to stop it. Every time he breathed it came out hoarse, so he dipped his head to excuse himself for a moment from camp. Reed trotted to the convenient brook that ran just outside of camp, dipping his muzzle in and taking a drink. It soothed his rough throat and he shut his eyes for a moment, icy rivulets streaming down his muzzle and onto his chest. If his sister was here, he knew she would be fretting incessantly over him like a mother bear. But she chose to stay with their uncle, and he chose to stay in the Austeros pack. Often, he wondered if he made the right choice.
He shook his pelt free from the excess water droplets and trotted back to camp, finding a seat next to his den. Then, with an inward groan, he remembered it was just around mating season. The season was bitter for him, because of his old mate. She had run away with a rogue after finding out his 'lowly' position, a healer. Power was truly an ugly thing and it affected the fae so strongly. And if his mother was here, lupus. She would pester him mercilessly for some grand pups. At the mention of his mother, a thin, sad smile etched onto his face. Now, he wouldn't even care if she asked him a thousand times a day, as long as she was alive.
Reed blinked his rich, forest green eyes and gained attention again. "I guess I'll get some pastes ready.'' Even though not everyone was awake, he figured the pack would be fine without him. Nothing else to do anyway. The brute trotted to his medicinal supplies, looking back for any stragglers willing to join him. Shrugging his haunches, Reed sifted through the herbs until he found the one he wanted and smashed it with his paw until the juice sunk into the dirt. He just needed one more thing, a fern. The healer sniffed for one, but with a gasp realized there was none left. His eyes fluttered shut. At this time a year there were no ferns in the Austeros territory. Only in the Leukos.
Regrettably, Reed left his den. He let out a soft yawn, shaking his head to wake himself. The male had barely slept due to his condition. He must have caught a kind of cold, which caused him to hack until his airway was free again. And of course, it would come back again and worse. The brute let out a throaty cough, which pained his lungs. He'd be okay in another day, as his knowledge of the illness reminded him, for he had taken the herbs needed to stop it. Every time he breathed it came out hoarse, so he dipped his head to excuse himself for a moment from camp. Reed trotted to the convenient brook that ran just outside of camp, dipping his muzzle in and taking a drink. It soothed his rough throat and he shut his eyes for a moment, icy rivulets streaming down his muzzle and onto his chest. If his sister was here, he knew she would be fretting incessantly over him like a mother bear. But she chose to stay with their uncle, and he chose to stay in the Austeros pack. Often, he wondered if he made the right choice.
He shook his pelt free from the excess water droplets and trotted back to camp, finding a seat next to his den. Then, with an inward groan, he remembered it was just around mating season. The season was bitter for him, because of his old mate. She had run away with a rogue after finding out his 'lowly' position, a healer. Power was truly an ugly thing and it affected the fae so strongly. And if his mother was here, lupus. She would pester him mercilessly for some grand pups. At the mention of his mother, a thin, sad smile etched onto his face. Now, he wouldn't even care if she asked him a thousand times a day, as long as she was alive.
Reed blinked his rich, forest green eyes and gained attention again. "I guess I'll get some pastes ready.'' Even though not everyone was awake, he figured the pack would be fine without him. Nothing else to do anyway. The brute trotted to his medicinal supplies, looking back for any stragglers willing to join him. Shrugging his haunches, Reed sifted through the herbs until he found the one he wanted and smashed it with his paw until the juice sunk into the dirt. He just needed one more thing, a fern. The healer sniffed for one, but with a gasp realized there was none left. His eyes fluttered shut. At this time a year there were no ferns in the Austeros territory. Only in the Leukos.
