Rikyn

 
Duir has found the wolves.
 
While, at first, he’d shared my deep fear of them, he had slowly gained an affection for watching them function as a family, especially with so many of the herd seeming so interested in them as of late.  Though I’ve explained to him why we’ve been hanging about the flea bags so much, I don’t think its really stuck; the idea of changing a creature to such a degree as I’d claimed we were going to do seemed infeasible to the stag.  Nature, he had proclaimed, this single word somehow encompassing every single thing he had ever seen in his short life that was green or made by Earth, is made as it was meant.  Cannot change so much.
 
It seemed, now, however, that he had thought about it some, and as I arrive alongside him on a pine needle laden rise, overlooking a rocky outcropping with a grassy clearing spread before it, a small creek running along its side, I tilt my ears forward to hear the yips of the pups, hidden beneath the shadowy awning with their protector.  The youthful female that had been in charge of them when the trolls attacked seems to have lost her job; she sulkily snoozes along the banks of the creek, noticeably thinner since I’d last seen her, and, however it is with them now is but a shadowy glimpse from time to time, as they skillfully pull a stray babe back into the den.
 
They will not be them, he sternly tells me, no sooner than I’ve stopped.  I look over at him, a bit thrown off by the sudden change in his mindset.  They be new then.  What if… What if they not family, then, too?
 
My eyebrows make their way down over my eyes, the hurt this concept causes him welling inside me through our bond.  Touching him with my muzzle, I smile, and hope to gently ease him into the idea that, surely, the Time God wouldn’t have agreed to change them at all, if it would take away part of their very natures.
 
They’d not be wolves, I reply, and wolves are what Uncle Deimos asked for, isn’t it?
 
Duir doesn’t know, because he wasn’t there.  He snorts softly, but some of the tension inside him eases away.  Obviously still not okay with the idea of taming them, he is going to say something else when the pack returns, and, nervously, even his mind falls into complete silence as the alphas trot in, the strong or aging adults filtering in after them.  The same pattern, as always, I’ve noticed that the largest male, a silver coated thing with black tips and striking blue eyes, leads the foray, while a wolf whom appears to be his son follows after him.  Between the striking males and the tail of the line are the older wolves, three, and all female; scared on their faces from antlers, some sporting slight limps, their fur sags in the ways the youthful wolves pelts are taught and glide across honed muscle.  Alongside these elders are the hunters, those in their prime, who are not quite socially as high on the pillar as those who walk with the alphas, and they are numbered four.  Most are female but for one male, who eyes the alpha’s son with envy from time to time.
 
At the tale is the Mother, as I call her.  She is snowy white, with golden eyes, and she always knows I’m here, even if I’m invisible.  Even now she looks through the foliage and seems to grin at me, her two daughters, both steely gray with milky undertones, following at the tails of the elders into the clearing, while she pauses to see me.  It makes my skin feel cold, but, also like always, she carries on, making a small bark of greeting.
 
Like a cascade of fur and yelps and paws, the pups move from the den like the brook alongside them.  The omega jumps to her feet, and the oldest male wolf I’ve ever seen slowly follows after the thunderous onslaught of puppies returning to their mothers.  With grunts and snarls, they butt their heads against their bellies and heads, and begin to lick wildly at the corners of their mouths.
 
What’s all that about? I wonder, having never watched mother wolves feed pups past nursing age before.  Duir, alongside me, mentally guffaws, too afraid to utter any real noise.
 
Oh, you’ll see, he taunts, already aware of the horror that is going to ensue.
 
[ OOC:  Lirl we all know what’s coming.  This is an observation thread!  I will be writing the wolves with Rikyn’s posts so I don’t have to log in and out of NPC (I’m lazy k).  This post contains realistic (as far as I understand it, anyway xD) wolf hunt and travel formation.  The actual, erhm, “feeding” will occur in his next post, once a few people join or in a week or so.  Tagging all rank holders who have not joined a wolf quest thread yet!  We also need general members to participate, so if you're curious, poke your head in.  ]