#pack lore

but what about familial relationships? as an example from our pack; "oh who is this? pomni? from the amazing digital circus? and she's permaregressed so she's a tiny child pomni? that's so adorable. and, who cares for her?" ... "price." "price? like, from... from cod?" "price from call of duty yeah".

like, that's a WEIRD sight man, yeah this tiny jester child that seems like the most wholesome little child that comes from the amazing digital circus, has a dad from the violent first person shooter call of duty. (uncles include könig, ghost, soap, & roach.)

Pack Lore by Posingasme

The wolves in the Winchester pack are on edge because the nearby human town is celebrating a holiday with fireworks. To get them through an uneasy night, the new high alpha declares a holiday of their own, and it’s time for the pack’s highest ranked storyteller to remind them about their family lore. So get this…

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.

Well hey there, nonny. Of course they do!

The have love for their packs and love for their buddies and lots of them pair off with romantic partners—and they love their kits.

Don’t forget that they come from hell, so they don’t have the same history with social constructs. They just: are. Like humans, they also have a range of sexuality and genders, and they don’t see a problem with having multiple partners that they love. Not that they’re drama free. They get into petty romantic tiffs and jealousies like anyone else!

Compatibility is just as important to them as it is for humans, but they also put a lot of stock in smell. They can tell A LOT about compatibility on how someone smells to them, and yeah—they do feel physical attraction, but if the hottest 10 propositioned them and they smelled like garbage? That would probably be a no-go for the Ghoul. I mean, some of them would still bone said 10 (Dew *cough cough*), but in terms of romance? Nah.

Deep within the woods of Darkspine, among the the trees that have grown old and the marshes full of life, lies the pack of Grimfur.

The land has been forgotten. Trees are overgrown, and the forest floor doesn’t receive much light. Underbrush in the area thrive off low light and wet conditions. What wildlife will you find? I guess you’ll just have to venture and see..

The will-o-the-wisp’s are guardians of grimfur. They can create illusions at will, and only the chosen are allowed to see that land that lies beyond. Are you worthy of seeing the truth?

Even if it hadn’t been the first pup to die in the pack’s short history it did take a large toll on them. Mainly because the pup, who was nicknamed Last Breath because of her being the last of her litter to survive. Along with her being the only daughter of Blåne Whisperspeak to be alive…,was the daughter of the lead wolf.

Unfortunately as the young pup had just barely reached her two month mark…a time when they begin their adventures outside a birthing den and begin to look like small stunted wolves. She was found dead a little ways from the pack…

Blåne blames herself, though there wasn’t anything she has done wrong, she just thinks she could’ve been there the whole time to watch the little one…even with Blåne’s abilities in paw she hasn’t had the chance to see her passed pups just yet…

So, little to her mother’s knowledge, the spirit has become a guardian. A guild if you will through the lives of all Cubs born within the pack. Promising to try and keep the lives of the new members safe unlike how she herself was. Though she is still a child in looks, her mental ability is like all spirits. She’s childish yet…something about her,..

The new guild of the pack…has taken on the name of Protector of Breathes in her death…and gained the title of Spirit of Safe Childhood by the spirits who are much older than herself…some of them remind her of her mother and the way she looks. Perhaps ancestors.

Betrayals, ch. 7

❤️RATED M/E

([Orias] Mulciber/Hermione, Thorfinn/Hermione, Fenrir/Hermione poly-fic)

Pushed to her limits by under-appreciation, Hermione turns the weapon that is her intellect over to those who are at least honest about how they see her. Her simple proposition becomes complicated when she finds herself emotionally involved with two Death Eaters, and the not exactly unwilling plaything of an infamously savage werewolf. *dark!Hermione*

“We need to talk.”

Phesniza glanced at Abaise at that, and stood up from where she’d been watching Snowswept Stone and Husa play.

“Is something the matter? Are the other pups alright?”, she asked, her tail bristled slightly, worried something had happened, as Abaise did not look happy.

“Walk with me.”, the pale she-wolf said, just turning and heading towards the way out of camp.

Phesniza stood and followed, Pihyaa seeing her and walking over to watch the pups.

Abaise led Phesniza out of camp and towards the river silently, the russet pupsitter a bit uneasy now. Abaise was rarely this cold, and Phesniza hadn’t seen her like this since Tasaka had become pregnant last winter.

Phesniza almost ran into her leader as she stopped, scrambling backwards a bit to avoid bumping into her as Abaise turned to her.

“I understand why you did what you did, but you need to be prepared for the fact that Husa is your responsibility.”, she said. “Winter will be here soon, and we do not know what these woods hold for us.”

Phesniza sat down, lowering her head slightly, her ears tilted backwards a bit. “I know.”, she said softly. “And I know it wasn’t my place to bring another mouth to feed here, but I couldn’t just leave her.”, she said. “She would have become something’s meal.”

Abaise sighed softly. “I said I understood why.”, she said. “I would have done the same. But we have many more wolves this winter than we did before, and we have lost pups in the middle of spring. You just need to prepare yourself to take care of her. I’m not asking you to hunt for her, but she is not blood, and she is too young to pull her weight yet. Food will go to those with duties first.”

Phesniza nodded. “I understand.”, she said, flicking her tail slightly. “If all else fails, I can always try to catch rabbits or squirrels.”, she said.

Abaise hummed slightly at that. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”, she said. “If my younger three were still pups, I would implement the same rules for them.”, she said.

“But they’re going to be adults soon.”, Phesniza said. “Hunters. They need to gain muscle and strength. We all know that.”, she said.

Abaise sighed, and nodded. “I wish they were ready now, it would definitely make it easier for us to hunt in winter. But for now we must just prepare ourselves for what’s to come, and make sure we’re ready to face what winter holds for us here. I pray it’s kinder than our winter in the other camp.”

Phesniza nodded. They’d camped in the woods to the east for awhile the previous year, including throughout the winter, and it had been a bit of a struggle, their hunters rarely coming back with more than a rabbit or beaver, even once spring had started. Abaise had moved them back closer to the grasslands they’d first called home, into the deeper, dryer forest, and they’d had much more luck, regularly feasting on elk or buck deer.

“Let’s hope.”, Phesniza said softly.

Abaise just sighed, and stood, the reddish pupsitter standing as well.

“We should head back to camp. I just didn’t want to put you on the spot in front of the others, or in front of Husa.”, she said.

Phesniza dipped her head slightly at that. “Thank you. It would have been a bit too much for her.”, she said.