Enigma || 1 Year, 8 Months || Female || Juvenile || M: Moth, Sikúnguaĸ, Kalevala (Ind), Malaki (Ind), Inclementia (Ind), Lycus (Ind)
Enigma watched as the camp steadily grew more crowded, filling up with wolves of all ranks and ages. More juveniles filtered out of the den behind her. Pack members started to increase the sound of private murmurs with their respective friends and mates. Mothers playing with their pups simply waited for them to wake up. And the elders did whatever elders do. Just an average day for the Lucid Pack from what she could pick up. It wasn’t until the stench of blood reached her nostrils that her opinion on that changed.
Shuffling her paws backwards, she forces herself up into a sitting position – ears tightly perked up and alert. Brown eyes shift over to the newest “addition” to the camp’s gathering, an adult that she had few prior interactions with. Kalevala, if she called correctly, was her name. Her mostly pitch black fur was caked with blood, particularly around the front of her body. And in her jaws… the severed head of a wolf, its eyes glazed over but their shock was ever present on their face as though their last living moments had been immortalized. Her spine prickled with unease at the sight, ears flattening against her head and eyes glancing away. That was not a sight she would ever wish to see again. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but wonder what poor unfortunate soul did to deserve such a demise.
The sound of approaching pawsteps drew her gaze away from the very interesting ground, landing on a familiar dark coated figure. A lopsided grin returned to her face as her ears and body slowly but surely began to relax, the prior imagery forgotten or brushed aside for something much more entertaining. A rush of air comes from the dull wolf’s nostrils at a spark of amusement caused by the heir’s greeting, eyes crinkling in glee.
“Well, I am the laziest of them all, after all,” her grin widens as she continues, “But hey, at least I’m one of the most humerus wolves in the pack. Not like all these stick-in-the-mud adults we see wandering around.”
She chuckles at her own joke, pleased by the very common choice of word play used. It was a class, in her mind. One that couldn’t be passed up. Though, she imagined that others may not feel the same way if it was murmured around them. Thankfully, however, she had the pleasure of conversing with a close friend. “So, how was your-”
A crooned ‘good morning’ rang through the clearing, effectively cutting off Enigma’s question. An ear of hers twisted towards the all too sweet greeting and her head soon followed. The alpha female, Moth’s mother of all wolves, was perched on top of the rock her mate had been on earlier – regal and powerful as ever.
At the call for the juveniles to be rounded up, she remains there for a moment, watching the other juveniles be rounded up and “escorted” to their respective meeting spots. A huff leaves her at this command, but she knew better than to dare go against it. Those leaders would rather have her head than allow her to lounge around during a meeting. Especially one that the golden queen was organizing.
A slow and dragged out lick to her cheek caused her to slightly startle, shoulders jumping upwards at the unexpected contact and fur standing on end. However, the tension quickly dissipates and her eyes gain a glint of fondness in them. Beside her stood Sikúnguaĸ, her father. A blessing in disguise for the young female. She couldn’t have asked for a better sire.
The gray-scale juvenile giggles as he comes back for a second lick, leaning towards Moth in vain in order to avoid the teasing gesture. She fails, of course, being too lazy and unwilling to truly dodge the affection, and in turn she presses her nose against the wintery male’s own cheek as her own form of a greeting.
“Good morning to you too, father,” she replies, rising to paws in order to follow after him and her friend (who had seemingly left a few moments prior). At his question, she offers the tilt of her head – confused by the prospect. Had he not been with her mother? From his words, it was obvious that he had not, but… her heart fell to her stomach in worry
“No… I’ve yet to see her this morning,” her ears pin slightly back and she glances to the side, “Any idea where she could have gone?”
Before her father could answer, the alpha began to hand out orders – naming off numerous wolves and tasks for this day. Shaking off the expression she had carried, she plopped down next to Moth and turned her eyes upwards to look as attentive as possible. Everything was assigned as swiftly and smoothly as the queen could manage, starting with the adults before addressing the now gathered juveniles. Upon reaching her name, the black muzzled female couldn’t help but feel both pleased and disappointed. She was delighted to have been assigned under the father’s expertise, but she wasn’t exactly happy with the task at hand. (A part of her tried to persuade her into jokingly offering Moth a trade in duties as her mother was talking. But the will to remain in good graces quickly squashed the idea entirely. It was probably for the best, if she wished to keep her head.)
The protest from a pack member catches her attention the second Inclementia finishes her speech – one upset at the choice in patrols. Her eyes roll at the protest, amused by the gull the she-wolf seemed to have. If only it wasn’t led by childish desires.
Funny, she thinks, how they think arguing will get them anywhere. For as long as she’s resided here, she’s yet to learn anything – losing her head over something so trivial.
A flicker of movement catches her attention which shifts upwards to follow the prowling motions of the alpha male himself. However, they are quick to shoot down to the once more intriguing earth so as to not show any sort of disrespect. Though, it seems like she’s about to find out.
For the most part, the laid back canine blocks out the drama, finding it uninteresting and simply down right ridiculous. Such rebellion was futile, so long as that so-called alpha had supporters. They’d just be met with a nearly unstoppable force.
“You’re no alpha.”
Those words ring loud and clear throughout clearing, cutting whatever tension had been built up from the disobedience with a bear’s claw and replacing it with boiling hot disbelief. Her brown eyes widened at the statement, filled with shock and a slight case of fear. Her head whips behind her in a flash, something she may end up regretting later, to stare at the young wolf who had uttered such a statement. Though she arguably agreed with their sentiment, she wasn’t stupid enough to relay it aloud. During this time, she once more misses the departure of her friend – much too focused on the alpha lashing out. At his declaration, she is swift to avert her eyes once again, not wishing to end up with the same fate. Even hunting is better than that.
The settling of a white coat beside her caught her attention, a much appreciated change of focus after what had just happened. Although not too disturbed by prior events, it was still a nice change of pace from the chaos around them. At his hushed questions, she couldn’t help but release a slightly strained chuckle of a scoff, knowing full well the meaning behind them.
“He’s an alright wolf, father. Trusty enough in my opinion. I haven’t interacted enough to truly comment on his person, but he seems to be a bit more on the quiet side of life. I’ll be fine training with him,” she plasters a half-grin on her face in order to brush aside any worries he may have had, “As for his parents, I know little of them. Visani I think is his mother’s name? I’m not all too sure.”
Nudging his pale shoulder, she looks back to the still-talking golden alpha, “And besides, even if I had taken an interest – which I haven’t – you know very well nothing would have come from that. It’s not like I’d have a choice, anyway.”
Her grin falls as she reminisces of her future fate, a thing she had long since been dreading after discovering its existence. Though she had grown used to the prospect of never finding true love, there was still a small part of her that wished things could have turned out differently. But, there was no use moping over the circumstances now.
“So,” she begins quietly, “what plans do you have in store for your little venture outside of camp?”
Summer 
Day Weather: 
Brimstone
