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Burning Winter Pack Lore

Burning Winter Pack Lore
Posted 2021-02-05 20:45:18

Alaska remained quiet, slinking into the medicine den by Montana's side. His white eyes seemed like spotlights in the dark, pale spirits. The she-wolf's teeth were bared in the half-light, snarled while grey fur bristled along her slender spine. There was no bitter tang of fear scent in the air, just the heavy scent of wet herbs and the warm smell of potions brewing in storage. Moonlight filtered in through a crack in the cave room, the iridescent mushrooms adding to the spooky glow that cased the pair. 

"Ah, here to take my place?" The darker shadow that sat perched on the stone slab, his claws rasping on the silver shot marble as he sorted out red berries with a deft quickness. Teething glinting in a shaded den, the medicine wolf growled as his tail drooped off the edge with the heavy slap. "Can't say I'm surprised, Alaska." His blue eyes shone like summer springs, meeting the younger wolf's gaze. 

Montana pushed in front of the diorite male, straightening her head and spine. Ears flicking forward, her grey eyes met her mate's own blue ones. "It was my idea, Whiskey." She sighed, chest heaving with the weight of it. "We both know this isn't working." Keeping his pool-like eyes in her own gaze, Montana's own eyes flickered with memories almost as if there were fish in her eyes. "We all know it." 

"You broke pack law, Whiskey." Alaska joined in, his voice rumbling. Those blue eyes drifted back onto the snowy ones, and the scratch of Whiskey's claws made the younger male want to press his ears to his head. He wouldn't though, that would show fear. "The alpha is always a scout before taking the place at the alpha's side." 

"Take it then, Alaska." Whiskey snarled, ears flattened to his head. "I have no desire to lead this pack, and Montana knows it." Slinking off his herbal stone, he jerked his head toward his mate. Blinking, Whiskey flicked his tail side to side, tilting his skull to the side. His voice was soft, tone filled with hurt. "As long as it will make you happy, Montana."

Montana pressed her nose against the black wolf's neck, burying her muzzle in his neck. They had been pair-bonded since birth, and dissolving the bond would be painful. "We can always try again, but our pups keep dying. Estranging themselves from the pack." His scent was always familiar, the weaving smell of airy green things. New growth. "The spirits are angry with my choice, and we've suffered for it." 

For a heartbeat, Alaska couldn't help but feel sorry for the black male. When the sun would rise, he would be crowned by this shadow's paws, and dripped in snowmelt. This moment was tender, and he felt bad for the pain of losing pups. If only they could have kept one, he thought. Things might have not have gone this far, this pain could have avoided.