Lykaon Swiftflame 🌋

1st Wolf to Reach 1500! (6/10/2021) 1600! (6/26/2021) 1700! (6/20/2021) 1800! (8/15/2021)

2nd Born of Lykaon Grayfoot x Emperor

Level 01: (556) 0556 - 123/114/131/089/099 (02/07/2021)
Level 05: (584) 0586 - 135/116/141/090/104 (02/12/2021)
Level 10: (664) 0679 - 167/123/170/099/120 (02/13/2021)
Level 15: (794) 0836 - 209/142/220/119/149 (02/19/2021)
Level 20: (974) 1064 - 282/173/277/150/182 (02/26/2021)

Reached #8 Leaderboard @ Lv20

Highest Reached: #2 (4/23/2021), #1 (5/31/2021 @ 1452)

Youngest on the leaderboard at the time of qualification 

In his first litter for Red Ridge, Swiftflame produced a Mojave, which was also his first T3.

Swiftflame was the first male Lykaon since the first lava erupted from the mountain. At the beginning of winter, the lava froze and went cold. It was said that his birth caused ash to choke the sky and kill the birds—an omen of some kind. Good or bad the elders couldn't decide. Upon his first year, in the dead of winter, he ascended to the position of Lykaon and casted his mother aside, as was tradition. "I am the lava borne of wolf's flesh," he declared. It was said that one day the lava himself would come to rule, trying to find his mate, the sky, once more. All the elders and pack members alike agreed and approved his ascension—after all none could stand before his strength.

—

His reign was characterized by death and the pursuit of strength, strictly contrasting to the former Lykaon's policies of peace and tolerance. Swiftflame reached his paws to neighboring packs, former allies, and waged war upon them.

Despite this terror on the land and blood in the ground, Lykaon Swiftflame had many loyal followers, particularly in his hunting parties and guards. It was rare to hear talk of any wolf's disdain for his ways, but the whispers were abundant. How much blood was on his paws? How many pups, unnamed, were buried in the bogland?

As he aged, Swiftflame grew paranoid of his neighbors and kept no one close. Even Elysian, his right paw, had been pushed away and kept from decision making. Swiftflame stood apart from his pack, but unlike his mother, the former Lykaon, he stood apart to protect himself rather than act impartial.

There were rumors he took wolves to his den and never again were they seen or heard from. It wasn't quite clear what happened, but of course wolves never discounted the fact that Swiftflame smelt of blood. They all bowed their heads and never questioned him even as his eyes burned with intense hatred of them for no reason.

The whispering rumor that set Swiftflame on a rampage was that he was not the lava and had no such claim to the throne. On that day, he proved his rage by murdering litter after litter. The weak and the old alike bloodied his paws and dripped from his teeth. After, no one dared question his claim.

—

Lykaon Swiftflame mercilessly conquered the lands of the nearby packs and Red Ridge grew flush with territory and resources. Under his rule, the outer lands grew in abundance, and he promised the same as he swept through the valley claiming all of the land, as if he truly were a lava flow enveloping all of the earth in his wake.

Though it seemed his inner court was weak because they were few, Lykaon's young guard were strong, hardened by the cruelty of their youth and burdened by names earned in slaughtering their littermates. They had not known the gentle paw of the Lykaon before Swiftflame, so only knew their own loyalty to the current Lykaon. They willingly laid down their lives in his conquests, but more often than not were victorious.

Lykaon Swiftflame seemed strange to his fellow wolves, though none ever spoke their concerns. Swiftflame was of an age and had great strength. It seemed strange that he would not have sired an heir by now. Though others were more concerned still with the disappearances of wolves offered to him in sacrifice. They disappeared, and he stank of blood.

Something was not quite right about the Lykaon.

—

Early one morning, a day that was not quite summer and not quite fall, Swiftflame woke to a dead dove in the maw of his den. It looked old and weak, rather than a deliberate message left by some thief in the night. Still, as Swiftflame nosed it into the foliage nearby, he felt uneasy.

He had heard whispers of gods upon the land. The most upsetting of which was a wolf said to be twice as tall as the average wolf with stars shining in their pelt—worse this wolf seemed to be finding their way to Red Ridge's seat of power.

Other gods—or maybe spirits—were sighted by wolves with unsteady eyes and weak constitutions. They thought they had seen ghosts rising from the earth, countless souls rising from the bogs where the weak were discarded. Some saw visions of lava covering the valley. No such god in flesh was reported, not like the giant wolf made of stars.

Swiftflame increasingly grew into a hermit, only allowing Elysian to come to his den for brief report. Even during these brief reports, Elysian was instructed to face away from the Lykaon, so that Swiftflame might have the advantage if Elysian dared to turn on him.

The exceptions to Elysian were the pups Swiftflame had chosen specifically as his heir and future confidantes. Though they were no longer pups but young wolves. There was Amnesty, a wolf Swiftflame had liberated from a wolf he deeply distrusted who had fur like burning wood and eyes deep black like coal. Amnesty was Swiftflame's apprentice, trusted with disposal of pups now that Elysian had grown older.

Next there was Swiftflame's niece, Ashfell, who was Swiftflame's heir in name. The daughter of his older half sister, Swiftflame felt that he could trust his own blood. Theoretically the same blood of lava that coursed through his veins, so long as he had told that lie it seemed to be truth now—at least to himself.

Finally he allowed Elysian one welp, a strangely blue thing... that seemed appropriately intelligent to take on Elysian's tasks when he... passed on.

These youths were part of the innermost circle of Red Ridge, in training to take over when Swiftflame... He thought of other things now. His death would not be for many years.

His death would not be for many years. That thought sounded repeatedly in his mind. What he wanted was to leave a legacy of power and abundance. A legacy that was in equal parts grand and heroic.

Wolves of neighboring lands, now part of Red Ridge, had never been more prosperous. How much blood had been spent to reach that?

When Swiftflame closed his eyes at night, he saw visions of wolves, all dead. Waves of blood lapped at his paws and clattering bones deafened him. He slept very little.

The only thing that comforted him was laying in his bed of pelts, bringing into reality that blood and those bones. If it was real, Swiftflame could conquer it. If it was not... he would not say.

—

One mysterious day, Ashfell Frost, his sister's daughter taken in as his own heir, disappeared, though the ever abundant rumors suggested she was murdered. This news caused Swiftflame's elder half-sister to die of heartbreak, thereby ending the former Lykaon Grayfoot's maternal line. 

Some in Red Ridge's vast territories suggested that it was caused by Lykaon Swiftflame's growing paranoia, or perhaps a strange desperation to carry on his bloodline. Many of the youngest generations who grew up only knowing their Lykaon's vast power had forgotten that the title was not always passed from blood heir to blood heir. Those generations worried that the Lykaon no longer had such an heir.

Swiftflame had pain his heart, but showed nothing but outer strength and hostility. The truth of Ashfell's death would never be known. Instead, he kept Amnesty closer and intended to sire an heir, despite never before having shown interest in other wolves.

--

"You are older now than your mother ever was," Elysian said to him one day. Swiftflame's closest confidante seemed grayer than ever, somehow even more drained of color.

"Yes," Swiftflame agreed. It seemed like so many years ago in his youth and rage as he took the lands of Red Ridge by force. "The pack is stronger now than it ever was." He looked at Elysian and asked the other wolf to look away. The white eyes of his advisor were haunting him for some reason. "I have sired a daughter," Swiftflame announced suddenly, much to the surprise of Elysian who hadn't even realized the Lykaon had taken a visitor.

Elysian listened and noticed Swiftflame inviting him back into the innermost sanctum--of course Elysian walked before the Lykaon, who had grown paranoid of showing his back. There in the corner was a lone pup, old enough to have taken a name. Elysian was almost too fearful to inquire. He looked at Swiftflame from the corner of his eye as to avoid rounding to face the Lykaon. "She seems strong," he admitted.

"Indeed. She has the blood of the lava in her veins," Swiftflame said as he stood over his daughter protectively, transfixed as if he truly believed. "Please, she needs her rest."

"Of course," Elysian responded.

Housekeeping: Sex changed, born Sepia -> Fox