☽ Wynandir ☾

          The young wolf trotted through camp, looking for her littermates. She didn't have to look for very long before she heard their raised voices and Trill's as they all trained in the scuffed up, scrubby flat of land the pack used for practice and lessons. Their mother, Trill was quite young, so she liked to get her practice in along with them when they had lessons with Domhara. As the dark red adolescent made her way toward her family and their teacher she watched her brother take on both of her sisters and nearly win the bout.
          She glanced down at her small paws and gave a little huff. A pup's paws were supposed to indicate how much they would grow and how strong they would be, and hers were just... little. Her brother's paws were enormous, and he was a pretty big wolf already. She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to take him on with her sisters, let alone all by herself. It was a source of worry for her, but it was also fuel for her determination. Even though she was small, one day she'd have a big, important job and be able to take down any prey, even her brother.

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          Wynandir watched the white-frosted, dark gray and brown wolf shake out his fur
and roll his head from side to side, stretching out his bunched neck
muscles. He had been out all day, and the red furred she-wolf had watched as he strolled back into camp like he was very important. A couple of wolves trotted past
him on their way out of the hollow and he drew himself up to his full
height, giving each of them a nod. Wynandir chuckled to herself, understanding the struggle of being the smallest of the litter, but at the same time wondering what he was so worried about. He was one of the biggest wolves in the pack, only being beaten by his own siblings. The pair of hunters on their way out
disappeared from view and he let his sore shoulders slump again, looking ready for a nap. The curious she-wolf watched as he made his way over to a nice, sunny spot and decided that it looked pretty good to her, too. So, she waited for him to doze off before trotting over as well, curling up into a ball next to him, and promptly falling asleep.
          Wynandir felt herself being poked and tried to ignore it, snuggling into an even tighter ball of red fluff. When the poking did not cease, she lifted up her head and blinked her big amber eyes open to see Roshan's bright blue ones looking confusedly at her. She scrunched up her nose and
spoke at him in a garbled mess of sleepy words.
          "Wha...? Whaddoyaneed?"
          "Uh, what are you doing?"
          "I'm sleeping. Takin' advantage of this nice sunny spot, same as you."
          "I can see that, but why exactly do we need to share the same tiny area of space?"
          "Well, because I want to, that's why. Why do you always feel the need to make wolves think you're big?"
          "I- well, because!"
         
This back and forth went on for quite some time, and kept happening
regularly over the next days and then weeks. Eventually the little red
she-wolf wore Roshan down and whenever one of them decided to nap the
other came to share their space in either quiet, or quietly bickering
contentment until they fell asleep snuggled up together.

—

          Wynandir's ears pricked in her sleep, hearing an odd cacophony of hundreds of birds taking off suddenly. Her nose twitched as it picked up a black smell of charred peat and brush. Her red fur stood on end as it felt the eerily stagnant, warm air crackle with static. A few more minutes of sleep passed, then the she-wolf bolted awake, wide eyed. Something was very wrong. She looked to the space beside her where Roshan usually slept, panicking slightly upon seeing it empty. The she-wolf's wide amber eyes swept the den around her swiftly, picking her dark mate out against the too-red light coming in through one of the den's entrances. His hackles were raised as he gazed out into the pre-dawn, and, feeling his tension, she got up and hurried to join him.
          "Do you feel it too?" Roshan asked without turning round.
          "I do. What is it?" The red-furred she-wolf's voice wavered a bit.
          "I'm... not sure. The scouts would tell us if something was wrong, though. Banrigh's up there on the hill right now keeping wa— oh, no."
          At that moment the pair noticed the first wisps of intense black smoke rising above the tree-clad horizon, with a terrified-looking Banrigh pelting toward the hollow over the hill before it. As the sooty scout skidded to a halt she let out a wild, ragged howl that disintegrated into a rasping cough. Wynandir could see the whites of her friend's eyes flashing in her terror, and she rushed out to meet her, supporting the scout with a shoulder as she coughed out her report.
          "The— the fen. I— it's burning."

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