Pack Lore

Quite long, have a drink . . .

"What's the problem, little one?" His mother would ask. Bosco lifted his head, which was no bigger than his mother's paw, "They're all playing so roughly and I want to join!" He'd whine, resulting in a laugh from the she-wolf, yet she licked his forehead, comforting him. "You're different," She started, "Your brothers and sisters are like a river; strong and unyielding. You're like the light breeze the leaves and spirits dance with." Bosco laid his head in between his paws, a sign of his confusion. Bosco's mother caught on to it, speaking softly. "Your speed, your cleverness–that is your strength."

Bosco's bright blue eyes watched his siblings wrestle and growl with each other; all of his siblings were worthy shades of gray, perfectly blending into the shadows of the forest. On the other hand, Bosco was black and brown; he felt like a puzzle that never belonged.

Days turned into weeks, the hunts grew fiercer, more difficult–his mother grew weaker, her eyes glazing over as the stress began to kill her slowly. The pack itself was suffering, the prey had run off, and the winter was approaching like a silent predator; a thief in the night…

One night, the pack returned, empty-handed and starving. Desolate and grieving howls echoed through the forest—a howl that indicated the loss of a pack member. Bosco shot up, looking around for his mother, fear blossoming inside his throat as he whined and shook. The pack's survival was in question, his siblings huddled around their father.

Bosco's world changed, his brothers and sisters dropped; one by one. Six pups: gone in three days. He had to step up, the whispers of his siblings invaded his head; he needed to become the wolf that ensured the pack's survival… With or without the alpha helping. Bosco spent weeks gaining his strength; he was strong, but he knew he shouldn't give up.

One day, he set out early, his nose to the ground, hunting down a rabbit. The spirits of most of his pack followed, their transparent and wind-like bodies seemed to appear randomly. As the sun reached its peak, a rustling of leaves in the distance caught Bosco's attention and he bolted after it, his paws softly thumping against the dirt, and his legs moving with a swiftness that didn't fit with his packmates. In a quick leap, he brought the rabbit down; the cries from the animal for mercy were lost in the wind.

Mate Lore

Lore with Bosco's darling, Cricket . . .
When one wishes to be wanted, or to have someone there… they become desperate, needing. That's exactly how Bosco felt every time he met a new wolf, one that would soon be a member of his pack. He never felt a pull to any of the she-wolves that came across his path—just ending his bloodline, isn't he?

Bosco scoffed at his own thoughts, his attention soon diverting to a sweet scent—one that made him trot towards the animal emitting such a perfect scent; that's when he met Cricket, a beautiful wolf with a blue-like pelt and brown eyes that would appear blue when the moon hit them just right.

Bosco was smitten , in love just by the sight of the smaller male. "Hello!" Cricket shouted, his voice excited and eager to meet the darker wolf. "Er….hello?" Bosco mumbled, he would typically attack such an excited wolf on sight, but this one… he's different.

"I'm Cricket, I've seen your hunters and scouts exploring this forest—" Bosco cut the younger wolf off, confusion in his voice, "You've been watching my pack? Don't you have something better to do with yours?" He growled softly, the fur on his back raising in slight frustration and defense for his wolves. "Well… Actually, I don't have one…" Cricket grumbled, Bosco was taken aback—so much sass for a nobody loner.

Without thinking, Bosco spoke about his pack, circling Cricket. "My pack, Frozen Temptations, we have room, but not much. If you wish to join, meet me and my…" Bosco snarled just at the thought of the she-wolf who was forced to be his mate. "Mate, Alijah." He nodded, trying to ignore the way his tail wagged and his heart stuttered just by the way Cricket smiled, his scent was heaven to Bosco— he's in love.