Biography
Year 147 to 148
The moon waned on the last days of the first summer month, when a weak howl was heard on the border.
The pack found a youngling, no more than half a year old. They recognised the strange colouring his fur had. White with black dots was the same coat a female wore. They had found her a while ago, being lost or abandoned by her pack. Now this young male had come. When taken to the den, the two immediately recognised each other. Siblings from the same litter, the young male had searched for his sister.
The dots on her fur stayed until she met her end. The moon had waned on this last days of the first summer month. Although familiar with the lands, she was surprised by the sudden earthquake that shredded the ground when she was hunting. They found her torn body later, even in the heigth of hunting season petite and fragile, and lighter than any other wolf of the pack.
Maybe her coat would have changed, like Christmas' pelt did. The black spots faded into steaks of grey and granite, giving him a look like snow and frost. His son inherited it.
When the winter winds howled, the pack crossed a strange creature. On two legs and monstrously strong, with claws that ripped their bodies. Christmas' silvery coat was torn when they came home.
He remembered his daughters licking his wounds. They had the white coat of his home pack, the white and the black dots. He remembered remembering, dreaming of green grass and warm air and larks in the sky, all of which he had never seen since he crossed into these cold lands. He remembered being warm, truly warm.
Then he remembered nothing at all, no more.
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Winter Month: 3 
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