FourLeaf's Lorwolf Stuff

Quick doodle of my first starter wolf, Marei #166. Her last piece of apparel just came in the wolf mail, so I figured I'd doodle her to celebrate! (As if I haven't done that enough already...)

It was his palace, his kingdom; he could clearly see the peaks of the Skymaw towering above him. Yet at the same time it wasn’t his palace, because it was all in ruins. The young wolf padded softly through the ruins, his ears twitching in an attempt to hear something other than his own pawsteps. But there was nothing. The ruins were completely abandoned.. Or were they?

He whipped around, barely catching sight of a shadow disappearing around the corner. Who was that? For a moment he stood still, almost as if unsure of what to do. But he did know; he had done this many times before.

One pawstep, then another. He was out of the ruins. The wind whipped around him, snowflakes slicing under his thick fur like frozen claws. It wasn’t safe out in this storm, that was for sure. He turned around.

She stood there behind him, as if waiting. Her spotted pelt was barely visible through the swirling snow, but her emerald eyes seemed to glow brighter than the moon.

He could see the dark, horned shadow looming behind her. He could hear a voice. Was it his? He wasn't sure. There was a bright flash of light, and everything went dark.

“Prince Rayelin,” a sharp, commanding voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the world. “Answer the question.”

He coughed quietly, blinking the sharp sting of the incense from his eyes. “Yes. I, Prince Rayelin of Blizzardcrest, swear by Orrin’s Fangs to uphold the alliance.”

“Tell me about it.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Rayelin growled. He pulled off his cloak, throwing it in the corner with a frustrated sigh.

“You saw her again, didn’t you?”

“Kenta, you shouldn’t be here.”

“Why don’t you just go to her?”

“Because I don't know where she is!” Rayelin snapped, glaring at the snowcat. “Because it’s not princely to go running off into the world looking for friendship!”

Kenta moved closer, curling their tail around the wolf. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Are you suggesting we run away?”

“What’s stopping us?”

“My parents are stopping us.”

‘I’ve always wanted to see the world beyond Icerun, you don't want to lead the pack… it’s the perfect plan, Raye. We carry out this dumb ceremony, and when we get to the mountains we slip away.”

“That can’t possibly work.”

“We’ll try it, okay? Besides, they need us. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Rayelin could think of plenty of things. But he couldn't bring himself to say them. There was no arguing with his companion.

“Moonrise tonight,” Kenta purred, padding softly toward the window. A moment later, they were gone.

Kenta was insane. Sneaking up here every day to keep him company was one thing, but suggesting that they run away? Rayelin shook his head. There was no way it would ever happen.

And yet, some part of him wondered if it really was too good to be true. He’d be the first in his bloodline to run from the crown. A prince giving up the diplomatic lifestyle of a royal was rare, but not unheard of. Perhaps, with a bit of luck, it could work. Perhaps, finally, he could stop being Prince of Blizzardcrest. Perhaps, finally, he could just be Rayelin.

The sharp smell of incense filled his nose and stung his eyes once more. His cloak felt heavy on his shoulders as he fought back his nervousness. He could feel the watchful eyes of the pack on him, staring into his soul. There was no way this could work.

Kenta grinned at him from across the room, surrounded by an entourage of snowcat royalty. This was the one night that even the solitary snowcats came together to celebrate, if it could even be called a celebration. How could they not be worried about the plan? Or maybe they were nervous, and just good at hiding it.

The hall, once filled with quiet murmurs, fell silent suddenly as the leaders of Blizzardcrest stepped to the center of the stage. Rayelin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He had to focus.

“Welcome, friends,” Rayelin’s father stepped forward, his deep voice carrying across the gathered crowd. “You are here to witness the final stage of this ancient ceremony. For many centuries, the wolves of Blizzardcrest have upheld an alliance with the snowcats of Icerun…”

Rayelin could practically feel himself falling asleep. He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander. If the ceremony went through as planned, the pair would be headed to the peaks of Orrin’s Fangs. They would go alone, yet together, and that would be their chance to slip away. If they went down the far side of the mountains, perhaps the guards wouldn’t notice them. Not until it was too late, anyway.

“I, King Keldrak, and Queen Saiji now call the heirs to the stage.”

Rayelin glanced at Kenta, who was already stepping forward. This was it.

The only thing he could feel was fear. Fear that ran colder and deeper than the worst of Icerun’s blizzards. Fear that they had been caught.

“I thought you said the far side of the peaks would be unguarded!” Rayelin snapped, glancing back at the angry pack that chased them.

“I thought it wouldn’t be!” Kenta growled back.

“Now what are we supposed to do?”

“Just keep running! I’ll think of something.”

The rocky terrain soon gave way to snowy fields, making running easier. Rayelin slowed to follow Kenta, knowing the snowcat would be able to dodge the hidden crevasses beneath the snow.

Everything had gone wrong. First, the wind had kicked up, creating a small hurricane of snow that delayed the ceremonies. Then it was decided that a group of guards should accompany the duo to the peaks, in case of any further danger. And then the guards had, for some unknown reason, circled around to the back of the mountain, and alerted both the pack and the snowcats to the pair’s escapade.

Rayelin cast a quick glance at Kenta as they ran. They couldn't run for much longer; even Rayelin could feel himself tiring. The sounds of their hunters were quickly fading behind them, though it was some time before either of them noticed.

“I think we’re safe,” Rayelin panted. “We can probably stop running now.”

Kenta glanced behind them, then slowed to a stop. “That was awesome.”

“Awesome? We almost get caught, and… okay, yeah, it was.” Rayelin laughed softly. He was too happy to pretend to be upset. They were finally free. He glanced around at the seemingly endless snowfield.  “Where do we go from here?”

“You tell me, Prince.”

“I am not a prince! Not anymore. Today, I become just Rayelin!”

“Okay, just Rayelin, where do we go from here?”

Rayelin sat and stared at his companion, completely clueless.

“Maybe I should rephrase that,” Kenta mused. “Where does your girlfriend say we should go from here?”

“She is not my girlfriend!” Rayelin growled defensively. He kept the second part to himself: But I wish she was. “They’re probably still hunting us. They probably won’t ever stop hunting us, so we should get as far away as possible.”

“Murkwood, then,” Kenta said triumphantly. They started to march off, heading for what Rayelin could only hope was a way out of the snowfields.

“Murkwood?” Rayelin echoed. “On the other side of the continent?”

“We have to get as far away as possible, right?”

“But…”

“But nothing,” the snowcat replied simply. “I got us out of the mountains. I can get us out of this snowfield, and out of Icerun, and far away from here.”

“Sure,” the wolf growled softly. He knew the snowcat was right. Kenta was always right – or rather, Kenta was right most of the time.

The companions fell to silence as they walked. The sun was starting to rise now, the clouds overhead parting with a gentle breeze. Rayelin lost himself in his thoughts once more, trying to ignore the cold that was seeping into his fur.

He was happy, wasn’t he? This was what he had wanted, after all. Life as a commoner, without the flashy jewels and warm blankets and luxurious pillows that the royals of the palace possessed. 

Perhaps he felt a smidge of doubt, thinking about his future. Perhaps he felt some regret, leaving an easy life of royalty for a life of hardship and survival. Perhaps he had made the wrong choice.

If he’d even had a choice in the first place, of course. Maybe this wasn’t his choice at all. He thought he had never believed those ancient tales, stories of how the Creators decided the fate of all of Loria. But as he gazed out across the snowfield, he began to realize that maybe he did.

Forgot to post this, lol

We must be the harmony. We must be the order. For in a world without order, Chaos consumes us all.

The vast sea of grass glowed a vibrant gold in the late afternoon light, waving gently in the breeze. Marei turned her nose to the sky above, watching the fluffy clouds dark across the never-ending blueness like field mice. She closed her eyes, breathing in the scents of late autumn. Excitement hummed through her bones — tonight, a full moon would rise above the clouds, a sign that the Moon Trials would take place once again. She had finally come of age; with the completion of the trials, she'd finish her training as an apprentice, having proven herself worthy of a higher position within the pack.

Hearing pawsteps behind her, she turned. The only movement she could see was the grass, still swaying with the wind. Then a sharper noise to the left — she whipped around, diligently tracking the sounds. Something was definitely there. She took one step forward, and then another —

“AHA!” A large mass of bright fur burst through the grass. Marei yelped as it crashed into her.

“Elvren! I told you not to do that!” She pawed at her older brother, a slight snarl creasing her muzzle.

“Oh, come on! Have a bit of fun,” he replied, licking her nose playfully.

“We’re supposed to be patrolling the territory, not romping around like pups!”

“Fiiiiiiiine,” Elvren replied. “You’re not much fun, y’know.” He turned and trotted off toward their camp.

“EXCUSE YOU, I am plenty fun!” Marei darted after him, struggling to keep pace with the larger wolf. “I just know when’s a good time for fun, that’s all.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the boring old one,” Elvren said with a grin. Marei snarled and swiped a paw at him. He dodged, laughing. “Bet you can’t get me!”

“I can too!” Marei growled. She jumped after him, and the two raced through the grass, following the setting sun to the edge of their camp. 

The dark silhouette of a large Lupin greeted the siblings when they arrived. “You’re late,” Seivon growled. “What delays you?”

“I — uh…” Elvren trailed off, sneaking a glance at his younger sister. She caught the message and immediately jumped in.

“Minor detour, sir. False scent trail from a passing herd. The borderlands are safe.”

“Very well,” Seivon grumbled. He glared at the two for a moment longer before turning away. “Prepare yourself, Apprentice. The Moon Trial is nearing.”

“Yes, sir.”

Elvren leaned down, nudging his sister’s ear gently. “That was close,” he whispered.

“Yes…” Marei closed her eyes for a moment, deep in thought. Tonight, she would prove herself. Tonight, she would truly become one of her pack, a wolf serving under Elius the Wise. “Come on, I have to get ready.”

“Uh, there is one thing, actually…”

“What?”

“You know what? It’s probably nothing.”

“No, it’s definitely something.” Marei gave her brother a concerned look. “Is something wrong?”

“Well, no, it’s just… did something seem, I don’t know… a bit off about him?”

“What do you mean?”

“He seemed a bit more intimidating than usual.” Noticing the confused expression on her face, he shook his head. “You know what, it’s probably nothing. He was probably worried about the Moon Trials.”

“Doubtful,” Marei replied. “He’s a warrior. A high-ranking one, at that. He wouldn’t be worried about some pup-rituals.”

“I’m a warrior, too, y’know. And I’m nervous about it.”

“You’re a scout, basic borderguard at the very least. And of course you’re worried. You should be. I’m going to beat your score and earn a higher rank than you could ever hope to reach.”

He frowned, smacking her lightly with a paw.

“You won’t be allowed to do that after the trials.”

“Yes I will,” he smirked.

“Oh? And which of the pack rules gives you that permission?”

“The rule of I’m-your-older-brother-and-get-to-bully-you-forever.”

She smiled at him in amusement, the first time she’d smiled that day. “Come on, let’s get dinner.”

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A rallying howl rose into the darkness, followed by a second, and then a third. Elvren poked his head out of his family’s nest, watching the pack gather. “Come on! Aren’t you ready yet?”

“Don’t rush me!” Marei snapped. “I only get to do this once, you know.” She carefully pulled the ceremonial cloak over her shoulders, licking her fur one last time to neaten it. “Alright, let’s go.”

The Alpha had already started the opening speech when they arrived. 

“Nice job! We’re late!”

“Calm down! It just started. Now shush.”

“... for hundreds of years; and following in the Elder Wolves’ pawsteps, we shall continue to protect this golden land in the name of our Spiritwolf Elius.” Here, the Alpha paused for a moment, looking out on the pack with her deep amber eyes. “Tonight, our ten-moon apprentices will be given the chance to prove themselves in the name of Elius the Wise. Apprentices, please step forward.”

Elvren smiled at his sister, nudging her encouragingly. This was it, she realized as she stepped forward with the others. She would prove herself worthy as a member of the pack, and —

A large wolf approached them suddenly, distracting Marei from her thoughts. He bowed before the Alpha, who stepped down from her rock for a moment and dipped her head toward him. Marei flicked her ears forward, straining to hear what he was saying. She could pick out a few words… 

“... northeast… encroaching upon borders, we’re prepared to fight…”

The Alpha nodded solemnly, returning to her rock as he stepped away. A grim expression flickered across her face for a moment, but she quickly hid it, proceeding with the ceremony. 

Marei let her thoughts wander, only half-listening to the Alpha's speech. She knew from patrolling with her brother that the territory northeast of theirs had been abandoned for years. Who could possibly be invading the borders?

“As the newest members of the pack, it is your duty to uphold the harmony we bring to these lands,” the Alpha addressed the young wolves in front of her. “As followers of Elius, we must be the harmony. We must be the order. For in a world without order, Chaos will consume us all.”

A snarling cacophony rang out from the back of the assembly. The Alpha took a step forward, shoving her ears forward and letting out a low growl. Her fur bristled as heads turned toward the source of the noise.

Marei couldn’t see what was happening from her position below the rock, but it didn’t sound good. She turned her gaze toward the Alpha, who still stood silently on the rock, tail lashing. 

Marei watched as the Alpha laid her ears back with a snarl. Marei watched as the Alpha gave the signal to attack. Marei watched as the Alpha herself jumped into the chaos, leading the charge. Marei watched as the rest of her pack, warriors and elders and apprentices alike, joined their Alpha in the fight. Marei watched, and watched…

Marei watched as her brother fought off a furious storm of teeth and claws. She watched as he ran toward her, she watched as he defended her, she watched. And then there was his voice, yelling at her to run, yelling at her to hide. She faced that fateful choice, and she chose without a second thought. Elvren yelled at her to run. 

And she ran. She ran, barely managing to dodge stray claws and teeth as they appeared in her path. She ran, despite the rallying howls of her Alpha summoning all of the borderguard to return and fight. She ran, hearing the strangled cries of her pack dying behind her, fading into silence.

She continued to run through the silence, backtracking and covering her tracks wherever she could. She continued to run until hardened dirt softened to sticky mud. She continued to run until roots began to poke through the earth. She continued to run until her paws hurt, and her legs could carry her no farther.

The cries of the battle had long since faded into the distance. She was completely alone now, though something told her she wouldn’t be for long. She knew the fate that had befallen her pack. She knew that, in time, that same fate would be hers too. She sat down under a low bush, panting hard from the effort of running. 

How could she have done that?! Running from the battle like a coward, instead of staying to fight like a true wolf. No pack would accept a coward like her. She glanced around the forest, shaking her head at the mosquito hovering around her ears. She’d made it this far; perhaps it wasn’t too late. Perhaps she could find another pack, and lead them to the golden grasslands where she’d grown up. Perhaps there was still time, and she could save her pack from the Chaos-stricken doom that had been laid upon them.

What if Energy and Order weren't the only creators in the Lorwolf universe? What if these creators had physical wolf forms, which they use to visit and speak with the creatures of Loria? What if your friend draws a really cool mask and lets you use it for your lore?