Arctic Circle Run

Pack News!

CURRENTLY GOING UNDER LORE OVERHAUL.

Lore items to be updated:

• Den Page [100%]
• Alive Wolves [UHHH..%]
• Dynasty Wolves [0/6]
• About to be Dynasty Wolves [?]
• Lore Conglomeration Document [?%]

You walk along the edges of the arctic tundra's timberline, the cold air biting at your throat each time you take a breath. There's a faint scent here, like wolves that have passed through here constantly. Your suspicions are confirmed as your paw falls into a wide trail, worn down by the paws of these odd nomads. You stare at some of the deeper footprints, wondering how heavy the footfalls of the wolf who made them must have been. As you contemplate whether the wolves were heavy or just running with excessive force, you hear a faint thrumming in the distance. Looking up, you see a pack of wolves running along a further point in the trail. You let out your loudest bark-howl, letting them know you're there. Immediately, you see the wolves slow down and stop. One wolf, a reddish-brown one, trots up to you with a slight glare.

"You there! Are your legs working? Or maybe your sense of fear isn't? Why don't you run?" The wolf makes jerky movements, as if trying to scare you off the trail.

You return the glare, standing your ground.

The wolf huffs.

"Well, since you're stubborn as a rock, I'll have you know that this trail is quite important to the pack. This trail is part of the semi-annual run my pack takes to go to the glacier. It takes us to our summer home there, and if we miss this opening in the tundra weather, the trail will be covered in some off-seasonal snow and we'll get lost." The wolf gets more anxious as she goes on.

You open your mouth to speak, but another wolf cuts you off.

"It is quite important we get there on time. If you have questions for us, we will answer them when we get home." This wolf, black and white and shimmering blue, rumbles. The reddish-brown wolf nods, and you follow them to their 'summer home'.

The run is long, but as soon as you make it there, you see storm clouds in the distant tundra. "Right on time." The reddish-brown wolf sighs. You should really ask for her name. "Ah! Right! Um.. YOU! My name is Chinook, and I am the leader of this pack."

"I  will answer any questions you have now."

[Tell me about your history.]

"O-Our history? Well, um, we have quite the expansive history, you see, and um.." Chinook trails off, looking around at all the wolves who need her for something, almost struggling to respond. The blackish wolf walks up, nosing Chinook away.

"King?! What are you doing?" Chinook asks, startled.

"I can answer these questions. Go help," King growls. Chinook nods and runs off, helping the nearest wolf preserve carcasses.

"Our history is not exactly long, this pack has only been around for maybe 10 years. We started with Ferret, our first pack leader. She organized this cult-like mess of a pack around feathers, and we were all either born or adopted into the doctrine. Ferret created the folklore that I tell to this day, we got rid of her when she contracted rabies, and now Chinook leads us. She does a pretty good job, I'd say. Like I said, our history isn't long."

[I'd like one of your wolves/pups!]

King raised an eyebrow, but the rest of his face was disinterested. "Well, If you want to set up a trade, I suppose you should run that through private messages. Our pack isn't exactly centered around selling our wolves, but I'm sure something could be worked out for most of them."

[What's the news around here?]

King perked up at that, his face finally showing some emotion. "Well, Chinook leads us now, we moved to our summer camp recently, and I became the breeding male!" He puffed out his chest a little.