Honey Lostwood

Founded the pack at the End of Winter.

Died Year 7, End of Winter

Born in captivity the year before. 

Family: Amara (Sister, Deceased), Cedar Lostwood (Mate), Amara Lostwood (Daughter)

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Art by Smol #18774

Her father was a random stud in a wolf conservation program. Her brother, the runt of the litter, died within a week of his birth. Her mother was hit by a car and killed shortly after their initial release, when the pups were around 4 months old. Honey and Amara were recaptured and transported to another release site at the age of six months, in hopes that the female with cubs of a similar age would bond with them, but her mate drove them off. Efforts to recapture them failed.

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It had been Amara’s choice to travel across the mountains. 

After the pack they had been introduced to chased them off, Honey wanted to stay in the valley, in hopes that some other wolf would take pity on them. Amara, however, had decided that the best course of action was to start their own pack. 

Honey had disagreed, saying that they didn’t know enough, they hadn’t been taught to hunt or fight or even seen any weather worse than a rainstorm. They weren’t prepared to be on their own. But Amara made it sound so exciting, like one of the games they used to play, so Honey eventually agreed.

Deciding to follow the sun’s path across the sky, the sisters began traveling west. Summer was coming to an end, but the weather in the valley was mild, and small prey was plentiful. They taught themselves to hunt the tiny creatures that darted through the undergrowth, mice and squirrels and voles. Honey was beginning to agree with her sister. It was exciting, those days of trotting through the sunny pine forests, taking breaks to wrestle and chase each other in circles as they made their way to the mountains.

They started the climb in mid-autumn, when the changing leaves painted the world around them brilliant shades of red and gold and copper. Honey blended right in, though Amara’s duller coat did not. They knew that winter must be approaching as the nights grew colder, and had heard tales of its uncaring cruelty, but having grown up in the safety of a five acre pen with food delivered each day, nothing could have prepared them for the reality of a mountain winter.

At the higher elevation, the snows started early. The first few days were magical, with the powdery flakes gently drifting to the ground and the world blanketed in glittering ice. But the season lost its beauty when the sisters started going days without eating. The tiny critters were nearly impossible to find under the thick snow, which was now high enough to soak into the wolves’ belly fur. At night, they would sleep huddled together in whatever bit of shelter they could find from the howling winds, shivering until dawn.

Their journey took a turn for the worse when Amara grew ill. She tried to hide it at first, more worried about her sister than herself, but Honey soon noticed. Amara would lag behind when she had once enthusiastically charged ahead, and would barely eat any of the little food they could catch. 

They had just reached the very peak of the mountain when Amara collapsed. Frantically, Honey tried to wake her, licking and pawing at her face, even biting one of her ears when she still didn’t respond. As the snow began coming down more quickly, Honey managed to drag her sister under the shelter of a solitary pine tree, and curled up around her.

She did not sleep that night, still trying to wake her sister as the storm ended and the moon and stars became visible once more. Amara’s breathing stopped shortly after. At dawn, Honey buried her sister in the first place the light touched, and said her final goodbyes before beginning the journey down the other side of the mountain.

It was quicker to reach the bottom of the mountain than it had been to reach the top. Honey left the mountains as winter was coming to an end, hardly registering the change in terrain. Numb from both the endless cold and the loss of her sister, it took her a while to realize that she was in a forest. It was vastly different from the one she had left so long ago, but it would make a suitable home, she decided. 

She also realized, as the ice covering the branches began to melt, that she was an adult now. She didn’t feel like one, still didn’t know how to properly fight or hunt or even befriend another wold, but she would try. For her sister, she could be strong.