Ravindra was sitting alone in his den - again. He looked quietly at the empty nests where his mother and younger siblings used to fill. And he felt his heart clench at the thought. And then the unoccupied nest of his father - who had been practically avoiding him since the death and he felt himself release a tense breath. He was still reeling from their deaths ; and he curled up within himself. His mother wouldn't even get to see his ceremony - the feathers that had been put behind his ear by Maeve swayed slightly, a significant milestone for him and he sighed. He should be happy - he passed his exam and proved he could protect his pack. And now he was becoming an official member of the pack and would be able to prove his usefulness. But why did it feel so bittersweet?

He rose from the nest and made his way out the den - the fog greeting him, and the chill of the morning air. It was very cloudy outside and he could tell that hunting would be hell in these conditions . Looks like there was going to be one last snow before they could get into the new season. He could hear the sounds of the pack beginning to rise and that's when he realized he forgot his facial paint - and he went back into the den and found the Lilly of the Valley flower and crushed the petals and mixed them with water. And he had white dye and dipping his paw in it - he placed a few dots under his eyes and he then wrapped vines around his legs and he found the snowy owl that he had caught and picked it up in his jaw. And made his way out to find his partner that he was sharing this day with.

"Mae, Mae, Maeee. . ." He called out obnoxiously at her den, dragging out her name the last time - knowing it would get a rise out of her. He then waited for her to come out the and hummed softly.

"Morning partner," he said teasingly, "are you getting ready for our Ceremony? I already am ready." He said proudly as he showed off his painted face and vine adorned legs ; and the bald eagle feathers that she had gifted him. And he then pushed the snowy owl towards her saying, " My gift for you! I think the feathers suit you." And he gave a soft smile before saying, "I just wanted to say good morning before I went and found my dad ; I can't believe we finally have completed our training together, we're gonna be official members of the pack." He said with a giddy nature. "Don't be a stranger" he said with a teasing tone before padding off.

He noticed Rena was up and he perked his ears, "Good Morning Rena, hope you hunters have a rabbit's foot with you to bring you fortune if you all are sent hunting today." He said briefly, before passing by the young female wolf. And he looked around before he caught sight of his father. And he slowed down his pace before taking a deep breath and making his way over.

"Hello, father," he said rather formally as he approached the male, and he cautiously sat down next to him. "How are you this foggy morning?"

As night began to fade into day, and the coming sunrise was obscured by the overcast sky, a lone set of paws padded softly through the snow, steps delicate and almost inaudible. Seraphina had been awake for hours, wandering through the forest with no rhyme or reason to her path. When she had left the camp under the cover of midnight, she had expected to only be gone for a quick stroll to clear her head, but it was clear by the redness in her paw pads and tiredness in eyes that there was nothing quick about her walk. With each passing hour, her body had begun to shiver from the cold and slump with fatigue, yet the last time she had stopped to rest was hours ago.

It was supposed to be her day. Today was the day where Sikúnguaĸ was supposed to make her a Healer, something she had dreamed of since she was a pup, but had given up due to a need for hunters in Everfree. Today was supposed to be the day that she pledged her mind and body to protect and heal the members of Everfree. It was everything she had ever wanted, but Seraphina was not happy. She was restless, yet exhausted, and there was an ache that twisted deep in her chest as if a fox had its fangs clamped around her heart.

Seraphina had struggled with sleep for a while now, and she could only toss and turn in her nest so much before she needed some fresh air. It was no secret that Sikúnguaĸ’s rise to power had ruffled some feathers amongst the ranks of Everfree, but Seraphina could have never expected their pack to fall apart. There had been dissent that had led to infighting, and ultimately, a number of wolves had disappeared from the ranks of Everfree altogether. It ate at her, how everything seemed to have gone wrong with such swiftness, and mostly, she just tried to keep busy.

But she couldn’t forget what had happened. She couldn’t forget watching her family fall apart and waking each morning to find more of them gone. Mavka, her dearest friend and the only wolf who seemed to truly understand her had vanished into thin air alongside her mate, Rǫgnvaldr. Arianwyn, the Healer whom she loved like a sister and had shared a den with for most of her apprentice days, also left without a trace. Her parents had long since passed, and as their only pup, the she-wolf had no blood relatives to speak of. It was within the blink of an eye that Seraphina had found herself completely and utterly alone, with not a soul to share her sorrow with, and she had never been the same since.

How many times, Seraphina had wondered, would she lose those she loved without a chance to say goodbye?

When her packmates had left, she had spent countless days and nights searching, desperate for a sign of their life or even a hint at their safety. She would have killed to find a clump of fur, or even the faint scent of them on the wind, but she was never able to find so much as a print in the mud. Self-hate had festered in her mind as the skilled hunter could not even track down the ones she loved the most, and alongside the overwhelming worry for her found family, it had stolen her ability to sleep undisturbed. Now, Seraphina often spent her nights wandering, searching endlessly for the family she had lost in hopes that they could one day be found.

Slowly, Seraphina began to turn back towards the Everfree camp, her graceful head hung low in defeat. It would be a long trek back to camp, and she hoped that she would be able to make it back in time for the meeting. Another restless night was wasted, and the hole in her heart only seemed to grow bigger. Not once had the reserved canine ever minded spending time alone, but now, loneliness weighed heavily on her slender shoulders, and anguish plagued her once bright mind. All Seraphina could do was hope that her new rank would bring her purpose and that she could find a way to thrive under the leadership of Sik, one of the only wolves who had yet to leave her.

Rǫgnvaldr
Commander || Male || Southern Winds || Mentions: Mavka, Arianwyn
Indirectly Mentions: Eyvǫr, Sikúnguaĸ, Hrǿríkr, Cassius, Arnviðr, Hondo

Inspecting his surroundings, Rǫgnvaldr cast a keen gaze over the landscape before him, ears twitching as a singular mosquito whined near his cheek. The morning fog had made it difficult to see thoroughly, causing the male to narrow his eyes until they were mere slits.

“Arianwyn,” he voiced, hearing the female before seeing her, the sound of muddy ground squelching beneath her steps. Her figure soon came into view, her greeting returned as he dipped his own head out of respect. “Good morning, I trust that you slept well?” Having known Arianwyn for years, both as a friend and as his sister’s closest companion, Rǫgnvaldr trusted her. This trust of his only grew when she and his sister, having fled from Everfree, crossed paths with himself and the Southern Wind Group. For Arianwyn to go with Eyvǫr and ensure his sister’s safety? Why, it was a debt that he could never repay. He saw the lengths she would go to for his family, which is why he had swiftly appointed her as his Lieutenant.

Yet, despite his trust, doubts lingered. He had never been told why they fled. Did they, like him, face the wrath of their father? What had driven Eyvǫr to leave when just months prior, she had refused to depart with him like their other siblings? What had shifted to prompt such a drastic action? However, Rǫgnvaldr had learned to suppress his inquiries, trusting that Arianwyn and his sister would share their stories when ready. His main, and only concern for the time-being, was to ensure their well-being. Arianwyn especially, given her current.. state. Not that she wasn’t capable. No, far from it, though Rǫgnvaldr would be lying if he claimed that he wasn’t worried. The Southern Winds Group had much to do, with tasks that bordered on dangerous. It was not suited for a most adults, let alone pups.

With these thoughts in mind, Rǫgnvaldr's gaze briefly flickered to his Lieutenant's stomach before snapping back to meet her eyes. Clearing his throat awkwardly, his posture stiffened as she mentioned keeping an open mind, a hint of tension rippling through him before subsiding. Despite his unease, he nodded subtly, understanding her request.

However, before she could utter a word, Mavka spoke first, urging them to move to The Conclave for more privacy. A small grin tugged at his lips. “Whatever would I do without you,” he spoke, trotting after her, his gaze watching her stride away. His gait wasn’t overly quick, purposefully slowing down into a leisurely stroll to ensure that Arianwyn wasn’t left behind. Despite that, his eyes never left Mavka’s figure, even after entering the mountain. Within it, he settled down near her, circling her a singular time before positioning himself by her side where he belonged.

“Now, I am fully attentive,” he assured Arianwyn, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “I promise to keep an open mind. Or, at least, I'll try.” Hopefully, it would suffice. Rǫgnvaldr wasn't sure what to expect, but the mention of his father tightened his jaw. “Why am I not surprised? It seems like he's always involved,” he remarked sarcastically, his disdain for Hrǿríkr evident in his tone as he continued to listen. Oh, what a mistake that was, for within moments, it was revealed that his sister was arranged to another, causing his molars to grind together.

“That old fool placed Eyvǫr with Drathellos?” He hissed out, snapping at the air with his teeth. “I know I promised to have an open mind, but this? This?” Breaking out into a pace, Rǫgnvaldr’s head swayed from side-to-side, hackles rising once more, his tail soon followed suit. “You would think that after my failed arrangement, he would have dropped the idea.” Glancing to Mavka, he shook his head, continuing his pace.

“Drathellos grovels at my father’s feet, it’s no wonder Eyvǫr was paired with him.” Pausing, he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply once more. “And what was my mother’s response to all of this?” He asked calmly, opening his eyes and looking to Arianwyn. “Let me guess, she doesn’t know any of it.” Tone nearly a mock, Rǫgnvaldr took another inhale, tone calming. “It doesn’t matter. What matters now is that Eyvǫr is here now and away from the lot of them. As are you.”

But the revelations didn't end there. As soon as he finished speaking, Arianwyn began recounting her own story, leaving Rǫgnvaldr momentarily stunned into silence. “You and Arnviðr?” he repeated, seeking confirmation, before muttering under his breath, “Well, I'll be damned,” blinking as the realization hit him. His expression, usually stoic, betrayed a mix of surprise and shock as he stared at Arianwyn's stomach, his mouth slightly agape. “My brother?” he queried again, needing confirmation as he continued to process the news, nodding along. It made sense to Rǫgnvaldr. Perfect sense.

Emotions surged within him – happiness at the thought of becoming an uncle mingled with an onset fury. “My father certainly enjoys meddling, doesn't he?” he sneered, his surprise giving way to a blank expression. “And Arnviðr is no better. He's as spineless as they come,” he spat, recalling his brother's refusal to stand up for him before leaving. Not a word to his father in his defense; he couldn’t even meet his gaze. “Does Arnviðr know?” he inquired, referring to the pups.

“As for your pups, Hrǿríkr will not touch them, you have my word. If you must trust anything I say, trust that they will be safe so long as I am here. I promise you that, Arianwyn.” If one thing was for certain, Rǫgnvaldr never backed out of his promises. He had always kept them, always. Mavka herself knew, for he had promised her him, and look at how well he kept his word.

“And,” he continued, “anyone with sense recognizes the sacrifice you made to become a Healer. Your talent is invaluable and will be respected. You will not be looked down on here.” It was no wonder that Hrǿríkr disregarded Arianwyn. The male found faults in everybody, so she was truly doomed from the start. Most are.

However, the conversation took a sharp turn when his younger brother, Sikúnguaĸ, was brought up. “I refuse to hear his name uttered,” he stated in a monotone voice, his tone turning steely. Sikúnguaĸ might as well have been dead to him. After all, he had always been their father’s favourite, and it seemed the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. It didn’t seem to sting Sikúnguaĸ when he usurped Rǫgnvaldr's title of Lord, nor did his brother protest when it was bestowed upon him. Despite Rǫgnvaldr's hard work and dedication to the role, his brother seemed indifferent. But then again, why would Sikúnguaĸ care? He had everything handed to him, he always had. Why would he ruin a good thing by defending his pathetic, older brother?

Turning away, Rǫgnvaldr dismissed the topic. He didn’t want to hear of Sikúnguaĸ, and yet, as Arianwyn continued to speak, a single ear turned in her direction, listening. “My brother,” he finally began, voice filled with contempt, “is the biggest coward of them all.” Glancing over his shoulder, he continued. “When I confronted Hrǿríkr’s mistreatment, not a single soul stood by me, not even Sikúnguaĸ. If the roles were reversed, if Sikúnguaĸ was in my place, I would have defended him with everything that I had, consequences be damned.” Raising his head, Rǫgnvaldr’s voice hardened. “Though I suppose that I wasn’t worth it.” – “Somehow, at some point, the family determined that I wasn’t worthy of being saved.”

He stopped speaking for a moment, fearing that his voice would crack or grow hoarse. “You say that Sikúnguaĸ looked up to me so, but where was he when it mattered?” Averting his gaze, he snorted, his chest tightening. His brother had hurt him like no other. He admitted, a part of himself felt a rather uncomfortable... pang of happiness at the thought of Sikúnguaĸ looking up to him once upon a time. But the mere mention of his brother filled him with equal parts dread and sorrow. He was betrayed by him, nothing would change that, and yet, a part of Rǫgnvaldr felt small. He knew first-handily how Hrǿríkr could be. It was clear that their father had gotten to Sikúnguaĸ like he had his other siblings. To turn his back on his brother now, well, wouldn’t he be a hypocrite?

Releasing a dragged-out sigh, his ears twitched, claws scraping against the ground slowly before halting at what Arianwyn spoke next. The mention, the mere idea, of his little brother being hurt by Hrǿríkr sent him into a spiral. All at once, Arianwyn’s voice grew quiet in his mind. Nostrils flaring, Rǫgnvaldr closed his eyes, silence taking over once more before it was suddenly broken by the sound of a rock being thrown across the cavern. “That bastard doesn’t have a right to be called our father,” he heaved, foam gathering at his lips as he practically snarled the words out. Beneath him, his legs had begun to twitch, eyes widening and darting around the room.

“I’ll kill him. I’ll grab his neck between my own teeth and snap it. I’ll make sure everybody hears it, you just wait and see. So help me, I’ll make his death as painful as it comes. I’ll.. I’ll..” Twitching, he mumbled out a series of incoherent sentences, nodding along to his own words like a madman. “First, I’ll make him apologize, and if he doesn’t.. If he doesn’t, I’ll take away a finger at a time. Or.. Or..” Continuing his ramble, his gaze shot to Mavka. “Maybe I go for the eyes?” Chest heaving, his claws dug into the stone beneath him, scraping against it and creating an uneasy screeching before halting. Beyond the rage he felt, beyond the anger and hurt, Rǫgnvaldr was afraid.

Rǫgnvaldr feared for Sikúnguaĸ in that moment, his hackles remaining raised at the mere thought, the mere idea of Hrǿríkr spilling Sikúnguaĸ’s blood. It made him unwell, nauseous, even, to the point where he turned away suddenly in fear of being sick.

“Forgive me,” he mumbled, gaze returning onto his Lieutenant. Taking a moment for himself and regaining his composure, he cleared his throat, voice rather shaky. “How long ago did all of this occur?” He asked, feeling rather disoriented at the news and attempting to remain calm. There was no denying that Rǫgnvaldr needed to act. They simply needed to work faster, that was all. Yes, he would put in more work, triple the amount. No, what he needed was to set up a meeting with Cassius, his little spy in Everfree. He needed him to check in on Sikúnguaĸ, and Arnviðr while he was at it. Perhaps even Hondo. He needed to ensure that they were safe, physically unharmed. God, the mental anguish wasn’t enough; it had to become physical.

“I have one more question,” he said, his voice steadying. “The apprentice, what is her name?” The very thought of his brother loving another swelled his heart faintly, yet also broke it. Rǫgnvaldr knew very well what the outcome would be. Hrǿríkr had always reveled in playing matchmaker, orchestrating unions both for Eyvǫr and for himself.

Rǫgnvaldr remembered when he first laid eyes on his very own Mavka. He swore, the world itself halted. He also remembered his father’s vehement disapproval of his feelings. In Hrǿríkr’s eyes, Mavka was a negative influence, tarnishing his son’s reputation—a notion he couldn't tolerate. To put it plainly: she was deemed unworthy. Consequently, Rǫgnvaldr was compelled into a betrothal with another, in hopes of severing his bond with Mavka. So, Phaedra was introduced.

Despite being promised to another, Rǫgnvaldr wouldn’t, couldn’t stay away from Mavka, breaking every rule to be with her. It was one of the main reasons as to why he left. It was the push he needed to depart once and for all, for if he couldn’t be with Mavka, what good was living? Setting his gaze upon her, he found himself leaning against her gently. He often needed to, simply to remind himself that she was truly there and not a figment of his imagination.

Huffing, Rǫgnvaldr set his attention upon the cavern wall before him momentarily. If one thing were certain, he was determined, now more than ever, to take down Hrǿríkr. It was clear that every problem led to him, it always had.

“My mother needs to find out about this,” he spoke plainly. “And I need to reach Cassius. Not to mention, we must reinforce the territory and confirm our next moves.” There was much to do, and Rǫgnvaldr's patience just became that much shorter.

Finnegan/1y3m/Male/Apprentice/Tags: Vlatka/Ind. Mentions: Sik, Teresa, Anders

That night, sleep had proved to be a daunting task for Finnegan.

Typically, the young male was quite the heavy sleeper, and he had been chastised for his snores over the months spent in the apprentice’s den. However, last night had been quite different. Finn had found himself tossing and turning at the thought of facing the massive Sikúnguaĸ, and pledging his loyalty to Everfree in front of all of his packmates. It was as equally exciting as it was terrifying for the young wolf. After all, with the way ranks were shifting and the pack dynamic was changing, there would be more pressure on Finn’s shoulders to perform. He was his parent’s eldest son, and he would do anything to make them proud.

In preparation for his ceremony, he had gone hunting with his parents over the last few days in search of the perfect animal. As a young male seeking the position of a warrior in his future, he was expected to present the fangs or claws of a predator to the Lord in a display of his prospective strength as one of the pack’s elite fighters and guards. Yesterday, with the guidance of his patient mother, Finnegan had been able to track down and kill quite the wolverine. Its meat would feed his packmates, the pelt would keep him warm, and its claws would make the perfect offering. Everything had gone so well that he did not even mind the gash on his face from the beast’s claws. No, he was simply buzzing with too much excitement to fuss over something so minuscule.

It was his big day, after all. Rolling over once more, Finnegan nosed around his nest, searching for something in particular. Soon enough, his muzzle came in contact with a pair of shiny fangs that were hidden delicately in the folds. They were the ones that he had meticulously harvested from the wolverine the day previous, though he had no intention of offering these to Lord Sikúnguaĸ. One Finn planned to keep for himself as a memento of his warrior apprenticeship. The other… His gaze swept over to his denmate who was yet to wake.

Her name was Vlatka, and in his honey-colored eyes, she was the most incredible being. He admired her elegance and was appreciative of her bluntness. She was scrappy, just like he was, and he found it fascinating how she seemed so observant of everything. Nothing ever seemed to escape her watchful eye. Perhaps she wasn’t the most friendly, nor did she seem to like small talk much, but that was alright with Finn. He was more than happy to just keep her company in whatever form she desired. For some reason, he felt like she could use a friend, even if she didn’t seem to think so.

Some days, he would just sit quietly with her after a particularly long hunt, or some nights when they retired after dinner, he would softly tell her stories about their gods and ancestors. His father, Anders, had told Finn every story he knew, and there was something exciting about sharing them with Vlatka. Then, if she seemed to be in a half-decent mood, he would tentatively ask her about her day with that crooked smile of his while he gave her his best attempt at puppy eyes.

Of course, this was not to mention the gifts Finn often brought her when he patrolled the territory. Every time, he tried to bring her back one thing. Whether it be a shiny stone, a lustrous feather, a particularly pretty flower, or anything else that caught his eye. Today would be no different, but Finnegan already had his gift with him, in the form of a wolverine tooth. He had scrubbed it clean the best he could so that the sharp bone would shine. Now, all that was left was to give it to his companion.

“Vlatka,” Finnegan whispered, propping his chin up on the edge of his nest, “Vlatka, are you awake?” His voice was soft as he called to her, as he was not trying to irritate his denmate. For a moment he paused, pondering his words. “We should probably get up soon… wouldn’t want to be late and all.” As excited as he was for the day’s events, the young wolf was not keen to head out into the cold, not when his den was so cozy and warm. Finn did quite love snow, but he felt like this winter he had seen enough snow for a lifetime. “The Lord… he’s a scary-looking wolf, isn’t he?” He questioned, tilting his head in her direction.

The autumn-coated apprentice quickly followed his inquiry with a snort. “Stupid question, you aren’t scared of anything. You stare death in the face and laugh, I know.” With a grunt, Finnegan shifted to lay on his back, stretching his stocky legs into the air. “I, uh… I heard you caught a fox for the ceremony… they have such pretty coats. I caught a wolverine yesterday… Anyway…” He trailed, growing acutely aware of how he was droning on, likely due to his nerves about the upcoming day. He wondered if Vlatka was feeling nervous too, though he knew she would never admit it.

With a quiet sigh, he took a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m talking too much. Look,” Maneuvering back onto his stomach, he set the shiny fang in the space between them, “I saved you a fang. I decided to present the claws instead. It was all gross and yellow when I got it, but I think it cleaned up alright.” Considering how much time the young wolf had spent on cleaning that silly tooth, “alright” was an understatement. “I know you don’t need luck and all, but I thought this could give you some anyway. I hope you get a good mentor… I really do.”

Aloe had an odd dream. It wasn't a bad one, just a bit strange in her opinion. She didn't remember her dreams all too much, that's what made this strange.

Aloe could remember every single detail. She was running in endless open forest, not a care in the world. The trees where green with new chicks singing, indicating to her that it was likely late spring or early summer. There was many scent trails of deer and rabbits. A rippling vibrant blue river flowed along her side, fish leaping.

-

Aloe ended up getting a rather nasty shock when she startled awake from a wave of frosty air. She had been putting off finding some way to fix the gap in the den near her nest for a while now, and she was paying the price. She plopped her head back down onto the nest for a moment, irritated.

'Wait... Isn't the ranking meeting today?!" The juvenile suddenly realised, her head perking up once again.

Aloe noticed her brother interacting with Vlatka. Deciding not to be mean (for now) she left him alone. She'd just have to tease him later about his painfully obvious crush.

Aloe rose after a large stretch and yawn. She needed to get up anyways, and wouldn't be able to sleep in longer due to her excitement. She stepped out of the den, shaking her pelt and fluffing herself up. Her fur may not be any good for hiding, but it sure was great for the colder seasons.

Looking around to see who was out of their dens, she noticed her parents and Wisteria all near each other. Aloe decided to head on over and see what was going on. Upon seeing that her parents seemed to be talking about something, she focused on her little sister.

"Hey there! You're up rather early. Isn't it a bit too cold out here for you?" She questioned the pup.

Aloe adored her younger siblings, always eager to visit and play with them. She remembered being delighted when they had finally been born.

Rena || F || Subordinate || @: Björn(dir) Ravindra(dir)

Rena stared off into the horizon past the fog and gloomy clouds. Some golden rays breaking through the abyss. She admired what others couldn't see. The bad weather couldn't stop her from the beauty hidden away. She was lost thinking about the sky. Eyes staring up at the sunrise painted with fog and cloud. She took a second to look away watching as slowly more wolves woke up and gathered around.

Taking time she looked around watching her fellow packmates gather around. A bright expression was on her face. It only took some time for her to brighten her mood. Her ears twitched as Ravindra wished her luck on a hunt. Her tail slowly started thumping the ground. "Thanks!" Rena boasted as he passed by. She enjoyed when her pack was in a good mood.

Yawning she continued to look up watching everyone slowly started waking up. A certain tired wolf caught her eyes, Björn. In a good mood she rose to her paws and padded over to the older wolf. "Good morning." Rena greeted nudging him fully awake before sitting a tail length beside him. She didn't want to be to close in case Björn wasn't comfortable. Rena has been called a bit too touchy and friendly.

She moved her gaze to his eyes, "Hope we have a good hunt today. We shouldn't judge the hunt by the weather though. Just because its foggy and gloomy doesn't mean we can't hope for a good hunt!" She continued greeting him but made sure to shut quiet after. She didn't want to be annoying or too naggy. Plus she knew Björn had a knack for always being in a bad mood, but she never really cared. She just didn't want him upset for the hunt.

Tail thumping the ground she looked past the fog and clouds again holding her chin high. She was confident today would be a good day.