Astarte

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Name meaning:
Astarte - goddess of sex and war

You know how a family will have that one problem child? The one that gets into trouble the most, the unruly, the one that causes havoc.

Out of all of her siblings, Astarte was this. Her mother, Seren, could never quite calm her down despite being reprimanded constantly. Astarte got that side from her but Seren had calmed down during young adulthood, whereas Astarte's hunger for bloodshed only grew.

As a pup she fought with many other creatures, often those much larger than her. Through adolescence she sought fights with wolves, stepping into their territories for glory. These endeavours left her with everlasting scars but she wore them with pride as a testament to her struggles and wins.

As she grew so did her thirst for reaping lives. But alongside guidance of the pack and under the careful watch of her level headed sister, she entered the hunting team as a finisher following in her mother's footsteps. While Seren is cool and calculated with her moves, Astarte tackles conflict head on, making her a formidable foe.

Her quick and snarky comments do not make her a favourite in the pack but they have all grown to love her. Her loyalty is undeniable and she will fight tooth and nail to protect the ones she loves.

Pair bond:

Astarte waited impatiently in the dry grass. It itched her paws and made her nose tickle. But the most uncomfortable feeling was the excruciating wait to lunge into battle to deliver her final blows to the large stag the chasers were wearing out below. Her muscles twitched and her jaw clenched, her paw inching closer to the bank that would drop her into the valley.

"Not yet." A soothing voice said from behind. Urani had crept up silently behind her, having performed her role of stalker and retreating to her sisters side to give the word to leap into action.
Astarte growled in agitation. Though she loved her sister she couldn't stand to be held back. It was hard to remember that she had the overriding command to ensure that the hunts went exactly to plan.

Urani ignored her growl and settled into a crouch beside her, nudging Astartes leg to indicate that she should do the same.
Astarte begrudgingly lowered herself to the same level but did not relax. Every muscle in her body tense and shivering with longing.
As she watched the chasers continue their flight towards the stag drool gathered in her mouth. She thought about the soft flesh of the stags oesophagus that would collapse under her teeth, the struggle that would ensue as the creature began panic. The pulse in his veins that she would feel in her gums that quickened with a rush of adrenaline that only fuelled her own. And the taste of salt and fear that would coat her tongue and trickle into her throat…
A low whine escaped through her teeth and her sister moved to grab her by the scruff but it was too late.

The wind rushed through her fur as she leapt down the bank, saliva clinging to her chin and spattering her neck and shoulders. She used her claws as traction in the loose dirt to propel herself forward, faster, harder, chest heaving with the velocity she pushed herself to. She heard her sister howl after her and the chasers, startled, hesitated and fell back. They sidestepped out of her way, tripping over their own paws.

Except for one, the newest addition. A young rogue named Dahlia who fell into the pack recently.
She was quick, and agile, and she almost seemed to dance with the stags movements. Dipping and diving whenever he changed direction, avoiding the kicks aimed at her chest and head and guiding him back into open space.

She was in the way. In frustrated fury Astarte snipped at the wolfs heels. She missed and the wolf slowed slightly, growling in irritance, but she picked up the chase smoothly as though nothing had disturbed her.
This angered Astarte and what little judgement she had left was blinded with emotion. She snapped again and this time connected with the wolfs heel. Teeth meeting bone and sinew.

The chase broke instantly and Astarte fell onto the wolf in rage, slamming her weight into Dahlias small frame.
Dahlia was quick, she was built to be a runner and her lean muscular frame gave her the speed and agility that Astarte lacked. She thrashed and twisted out of Astartes vice like grip and latched onto her throat, her back paws kicking and scratching at her underbelly.
The two of them rolled in the grass, each trying to break through thick fur to lacerate the others skin with their teeth. The sound that echoed within the valley was hideous as the two of them battled.

Fur was torn in thick clumps, blood drawn and dripping into the ground, watering the dry earth with hatred.

Within minutes the rest of the party had regathered and Urani threw herself into the mix. Aided by another chaser they broke the fight apart until both wolves stood glaring with glistening eyes and exposed gums and teeth.
The hunters walked them back in silence, broken only by the laboured breathing of Astarte and Dahlia who exerted the last of their energy attempting to gain the upper hand.

Once they reached the main den they were forced to lay side by side to be attended to by the herbalist and their lead wolf, Wicca, who would no doubt punish one or both of them for their foolishness.

Dahlia had begun to tend to her own small wounds on her legs, her dry tongue raking across her fur and exposed skin tissue.
The sound grated on Astartes nerves, but within it she felt a sharp pang of regret. It was unlike anything she had felt before and it unnerved her. Thoughts raced through her mind as she battled with her inner self, trying to figure out why the guilt kicked in now.

She peeked at the wolf who's demeanour had completely changed. She was… calm? Relaxed although she had suffered many injuries. Her heart swelled with admiration as she recalled how the wolf had fought back, every bite delivered with precision, every shift in weight perfect in accuracy to avoid blows that would cause her major harm.
Astarte felt the rage drain from her body, her blood cooling and rationality returning to her mind. She shifted herself towards Dahlia and sniffed at a large wound on her side which would be difficult for the wolf to reach. She flinched but continued to clean herself, her eyes meeting with Astartes with uncertainty.
Astarte turned her attention back to the wound, settling closer to the wolf. Tucking herself into her back legs she began to clean the wound herself.

What a strange sight it was for Wicca as she tread towards the pair. After hearing the story from a shaken hunting party she was sure she'd come back to find more bloodshed. Instead she was met with two wolves tucked together grooming each other's injuries.

A friendship soon blossomed between them. They were excused from hunts for a few weeks and never left eachothers side. They went everywhere together and the affection only grew with time.
When they were allowed to hunt again, Astarte calmed immensely. She ignored her sisters commands to go in and take down the prey. At first she thought it was ignorance. Perhaps arrogance at a higher level than she usually displayed. However she noted that Astartes eyes never strayed from Dahlia throughout the hunt. It was a focus she had never seen in her sister, an unseen communication between the pair. Astarte watched for subtle changes in behaviour and movement and acted at the exact right moment to delve in and finish the hunt.

It wasn't long until the pair disclosed their feelings to eachother, and they bonded with a private affair led by Wicca with her Mother, Seren, as witness.

They would like to grow their family one day and will plan their litters at the same time so that they may raise their pups together as a family unit. Their offspring will be half siblings in blood, full siblings in nature.