Pitch Pack
You hike up the cool northeastern mountainside, passing through oak, beech, and white pine forest, until the trees thin and rocks bare through the soil. Between the rocks jut gnarled pitch pines, standing tall and crooked in the stark air. Their cones cling tightly to their branches, perhaps unwelcomingly. Your paws brush over a charred stick from a past fire. The habitat looks unwelcoming until you notice the bounty at your feet: lowbush blueberries burning red in autumn charisma, mountain cranberries holding out their own juicy offerings. The understory is clustered around the trees in little islands of life between the rocks, making movement easy. A red squirrel's trill betrays your presence. A dark red and black wolf follows, padding silently over stone, evaluating you with a hot glare. She smells of smoke and pitch, and carries herself with the calm intensity of smoldering embers. A lighter male bounds up behind her, bright coat like fresh licks of flame. His perky verdant eyes cast around the scene, evoking fresh growth after a fire. The queen speaks up with a raised tail.
"State thy pack and purpose."
Breeding goal 1: high stats Many of the wolves have masked faces, eyes blazing between the darkened fur. The majority's pelts trend toward warm and dark, like a slow burn. Others are steel-grey and ashy-light or soil-brown.Thick fur hangs from the sturdy torso over lithe limbs, a body for climbing cold rocks. You see personalities burning with intensity on their eager faces. |
| Queen Burnish | ||||||||||||
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