Nephthys | 6 | Female | Sentinel

Mentions: Open

Brief Mentions: Selene

Nephthys lay in the shadow of a lone tree, listening to a gentle requiem that the wind sang as it caressed the tree’s nearly bare branches and the short, green, newly sprouting grass below. In Between her paws, which were neatly in front of her, was an elk leg which hadn’t been touched much. Nephthys looked at it in disgust, pushing it away from her with her broad, white-furred snout. She’d lost her appetite, anyway. Her hunger was seemingly nonexistent now, but for why was quite the reason.

Inside of Nephthys’s head was a blizzard of thoughts, swirling around with an uncontrollable rage. Some of those thoughts were focused on the activities of her packmates as the she-wolf watched them gather food and make preparations for the ceremony. While others were more attentive to the environment around Nephthys, as she could sense the thrill of a celebration in the air. But most of those thoughts and ideas rushing through the sentinel’s head were on why the hell the pack was having this celebration. She never paid attention to or participated in these kinds of things. Was this the celebration where another month since the pack’s creation was celebrated? Or, was it something to do with the gods?

Of course, none of her feelings towards the gods the wolf would voice out loud, but Nephthys had pretty strong opinions. Or, rather, they were facts. Why the hell did the rest of her pack believe in some sublime gods that rule from above, yet those same gods don’t even prevent the death and misfortune that may happen to stumble upon the wolves that worshiped them? It was insane, really, and Nephthys couldn’t believe that they’d even offer up their own wolves to die for these supposed gods. If they were actually true, then why hadn’t Nephthys gotten some “divine punishment” for not believing in them already? What disappointing gods.

“It’s crazy. What fools” she murmured to herself, quiet enough so that nobody else could hear a word of it.

The she-wolf let the wind ruffle her thick, fluffy white fur, her ears up and alert while the rest of the pack prepared for celebration, their guards down and spirits high. She, however, didn’t want to celebrate anything. Instead, she sat guard, looking out for any danger that could possibly approach her pack full of fools. Even if they were fools, though, she’d protect them with everything that she had in her, even if she was going up against a bear. The trait of loyalty weighed Nephthys down like a pair of chains. She didn’t want to be disappointing like the rest.

But, one day Nephthys would throw those chains to the ground. She wanted to start a revolt, it just couldn’t be now. She had to get some supporters on her side, wolves who shared the same thoughts and feelings about the fake gods up in the sky. Nephthys looked up at the full, glowing moon, cursing the gods in her head as she tilted her head back. She let out a faint, low howl which slowly grew louder. It was deep and mournful, like a rainstorm in the midst of a sunny spring day. But the sound slowly faded into silence, drowned out by the sound of the waterfall.

However, the sentinel could feel a burning gaze on her snow-white coat. Looking around, she spotted a young brown she-wolf with dark amber eyes staring at her intently, blood around her mouth and the half-eaten carcass of a rabbit by her side. The pup couldn’t have been more than six months old, but why was she staring at Nephthys? Who was she, anyways? Nephthys didn’t remember faces that well, much less the faces of unimportant, disappointing wolves.

“What’re you looking at, kid?” Nephthys snarled, causing the pup to jump. She must not have known that Nephthys knew she was there. What an idiot.

“N-nothing,” she replied, “a-and I’m not a kid. My name i-is Selene.”

This pup’s stuttering was already starting to drive Nephthys insane. “I didn’t ask for your name, now stop staring at me. Go the hell away,” snarled the she-wolf, watching as ‘Selene’ picked up the rabbit and scurried away, a startled expression on her face. That’d teach her to bother Nephthys again.

Word Count: 718

Ghost | 7 | Male | Rank: Warrior | Mentions: Sylphrena // Aghaidh

Ghost positioned his dark colored bulk upon the highest point of the falls, his steady golded gaze unaflicted by the misty spray that arouse from the water as it crashed against the rocks. He was fixated on the omegas below him, his opticals moving between them. Aghaidh was a intrigueing omega and the other one he didnt quite yet know by name.

His companion Sylphrena was there with him, turning his cranium he passed her a subtle nod. His banner flicking slowly from side to side, he was bored observing the wolves clean. With a swift Huff he leapt from the rocks he had been standing on. His hefty bulk rippling as he landed upon the rock face below and began moving away large debrie that had gathered.

"May as well help them out so its done quicker, we all have many other things to do before the ceremonie."

Ghost barked deeply, his rough timber of a voice carrying over the rush of the falls around them. His paws splaying over the rocks as he made sure to be careful. Last thing any of them needed was a wolf taking a tumble down these rocks or slipping into the rushing current. It would definitly be a rather interesting and terrible experience.

Akala | 3 | Female | Rank: Beta | Mentions: Azra // Mishka

Akala Carried her dainty frame ahead of the group her stride swift and brisk. She didnt like this forest on a good day.. never mind before a ceremonie. The fog within it made it hard to see any thing so it forced her to rely upon her hearing and scent abilites. Slowing down she paused to stare into the forest a soft rumble leaving her throat.

A flicker of movement had caught her rich brown optics attention... but, nothing was there. Shaking her pelt out she pinned her audits flat and looked at Miska who was stationed beside azra.

"This place gives me the heebie jeebies. Like I get that they should be good spirits but, still unerving."

Akala hummed out towards both of them, her banner lashing nervously. She was a great beta but, somethings rubbed her wrong and this area of their land did just that. Forcing a calm complexion she relaxed her shoulders.

"Lets continue."

Akala chuckled shaking her cranium. She believed in the gods but, ghosts where another thing. This time though she made her pace slower so she was closer to her pack mates, as they checked the border among the looming trees and mist. After all she was speedy but small, her frame having a dainty appearance.

*Sorry not alot to type as we are just starting up*

Blath | Male | 3 | Hunter

Skipping through a field of flowers was the flower addict Blath, the male currently checking on his collection of flowers. Making sure they were in perfect condition and that no one trambled them while he was away. His nose twitch, trying to find the scent of his beloved flowers-the only thing he cares for within these lands of annoyances. With a prep to his step, Blath starts humming with his eyes scanning the shadows around him. The melody was pleasant, a bit upbeat, and joyful. However, the meaning behind it was dark, but he forgot the lyrics to the song. He was out hunting but searching for a different kind of prey. Not one you can eat unless you swing that way. The pupil in his eyes widens upon catching sight of his beloved flowers, wanting to go over there and rub himself against such beautiful things. Until he spot an imposter, the imposter being a small, pathetic rabbit.

How dare such an ugly and fluffy creature devour his precious items?!? How dare it have the guts to enter his sacred grounds in the first place!?! He wants to kill it, break its cursed neck for the sins it has committed. His nostrils flare as anger bubble inside him, his tail twitching, and his fur flared. He was enraged. Indeed he is, and now, he has to dispose of such a disgusting thing. He crept closer, careful with each step to not startle the weak rodent. His eyes turn to see what the rabbit was eating, and oh boy, what he saw set him off.

Blath lunges, his teeth covering the back of the critter's neck and then-snap. The rabbit is still in the grip of his jaw, only for it to fall limp on the ground when Blath loosens the grip to his jaw. Getting closer to the rabbit's last meal: a bundle of lavender. Sitting down next to his favorite flower, examining the chewed-up stem and petals with rage. With grand annoyance, his tail flicking and he lays down beside it. "Don't worry. What did such a crude thing to you is dead. No need to worry." Brushing his cheek against the flowers, letting its aroma rub against his coat. If he showed no remorse to a creature such as a rabbit, why would he give it to his kind? Remembering his small task, he stands up from the flower field and stalks away to the packs' borders. Keeping a lower profile; blending in with the shadows.

Leala | 4 | Delta female || M: Loki

The petite female, rather unphased as per usual, was rather unbothered by the male she had been paired with to complete the patrol, she followed beside him more or less, not too biased about leading since it was just the two of them and only a mere patrol to check for banished or loners regarding the days event of the fullmoon celebration, of which she was rather looking forward too.

It was a rather odd dynamic between the two wolves, Leala a tiny shewolf meanwhile meanwhile loki towered over her, even considering he wasnt a very tall wolf. Then again most of the pack did, even some of the juvenilles. Though tiny she was she was still deadly in combat situations, almost always underestimated. The shewolf was rather fluffy compared to the average wolf, giving her an inocent appearance, unless you turned attention to her cold, emotionless eyes.

Her attention strayed to the males voice as he ushered her to hurry along, with a simple grunt being all she aided in response. In towe she quickened her pace, allowing herself a little trot until she was side by side with him again. The equal pace continued for a short while before she noticed he became distracted by that of a meek chipmunk, Leala's eyes following along with the males actions as he seemingly aimed to kill the creature thougn unfortunatly escaped his grasp. Shame, would have made much better use as a small snack. Her eyes glinted as her attention and gaze retained to the path before them.

Sylphrena || 3 || Female || Warrior || M: Ghost, Aghaidh, Ráðgríðr and Chinook and Co. (Ind)

There was nothing to make her feel more useless than observing another wolf at work while she sat on the sidelines.

The white female's eyes had wandered from Aghaidh long ago, though her ears were still fixated upon him. The slippery wet stone chilled her paw pads and she took a moment to readjust herself, lifting each leg up and down a few times to encourage her blood to flow more easily through her legs. She turned her attention briefly to Ghost and dipped her head as he did his.

A small reverie was broken as her companion began moving carefully across the stones. She was about to ask what he was doing, but Ghost answered her question before it had been voiced. Help? Well, Ráðgríðr wouldn't exactly be happy about it, but they were still technically watching him. With a complaint nod, Syl trailed along behind him and took up where Aghaidh had left off.

The latter male had gone back to his most common position, and Syl didn't mind. He'd been nearly done anyhow. She could finish what was left, and the alphas would be none the wiser. Of course, she wouldn't be afraid if they did find out. Chinook would just roll his eyes and mutter about half-finishing jobs. It was the gods that preoccupied him more often than not, now, as well as his offspring.

Speaking of which... Ezra's scent lingered in the area, particularly on the rocks near the fastest part of the water. Syl's fur spiked in irritation and she grumbled, "Incompetent pup."

Ráðgríðr would be hearing of this, for sure. The juvenile could have easily fallen in and be swept away -- deep down, though, Sylphrena knew full well that Levi would have been right there. And, Levi was probably the one to convince him to be so chaotic in the first place.

Ezra || 1.8 || Male || Juvenile || M: Mishka, Akala, Levi (Ind), Mottle (NPC dead)

The young male's face held an expression of sullen resignation. The ghosts that the older females spoke of mattered not to him; they could go phooey away to whatever spiritual residence they were bound to. They didn't scare him. Actually, he hadn't even really noticed the fog until Mishka had said something. His mind was on how his mother -- his own mother -- had callously separated him from Levi.

With his mind so preoccupied, he was doing precious little to notice any threat short of a loud, angry bear charging towards his packmates. With a sigh, he grumbled, "Levi says the spirits are restless because the gods are angry, and they can't hunt in peace unless the gods stop being angry."

His tone was sullen, and the emphasis he placed on Levi's name suggested his brother was omnipotent when it came to spiritual matters. Truly, though, his sibling had an odd way with godly things. Sometimes it was unnerving. Ezra lapsed back into silence and cast a grumpy gaze into the fog, picturing the spirit of an old elder -- Mottle, his name was -- with his hunched, jerky movements, and pretended that his size and strength caused Mottle to tremble and run away.

The last words that horrid creature had ever uttered were to Ezra. Eyes clouded with age had met his own and the brittle voice had snarled, Make yourself of use to the pack, pup. You're no better than a rock at this rate! A puny rock.

And then he had died. What a way to go out with a bang. These thoughts only worsened the juvenile's mood, and he slumped his shoulders and dragged his paws as they continued their patrol.