(( Keeping due to emotional attachment, lol ))
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What's In A Name?
~~~
Malice, the pack's second-in-command, absentmindedly scraped a forepaw back and forth against the jutted stone they used for ceremonies and pack meetings. He sat just behind Alpha Marengo's right shoulder- as was expected of his rank as Beta- and craned his head to watch his pack-mates gather beneath the Speaking Stone.
The wolves' pelts all vary drastically in color, and as they gather they slowly transform the moon-dappled forest floor into a sea of wildly shifting patterns.
Malice jumped as he heard a pup yelp from the crowd; wide-eyed gaze seeking out the cryer; and then huffed at himself for being startled at all. Her tail had gotten stepped on by another pup, and that was all. No danger. None at all.
"Are we sure the pups need to be awake this long?" The large Beta questioned, shifting his weight to disguise the surprised jolt, "Seems like they'll just be far more awake than before."
"Usually, I would agree..." Marengo said. The Alpha kept his olive gaze to the moon- watching the clouds float by- but a twitch of his muzzle suggested he had sensed the Beta jump. "…But tonight is different."
Tonight, Alpha Marengo would be conducting a new type of ceremony. All of the full-grown wolves of their pack had agreed to a naming ceremony. One that would add on to their names, as a new tradition.
All wolves who reach adulthood in the Marengo Paco would receive a name suffix. An honor meant to acknowledge that said wolf had not only survived the harsh wilds, but was loyal to their pack.
All of the grown wolves had agreed.
Except for Malice himself, that is.
Malice hadn't realized his paw had started scraping against the stone again, until Marengo's tail suddenly thumped down onto his forepaw- trapping it in place.
Shifting so as to face his Beta, Marengo let out a huff. "You've been shifting around like your pelt is full of ants, ever since we called this meeting."
"I– I have?"
He received a rather pointed look in answer.
"Fine." Malice sighed. He slumped his massive shoulders in resignation. "Alpha, I think that this new tradition is going to be a proud one for our pack."
"But?" Marengo questioned.
"But I feel that to add to my name, it would need to change, entirely." Malice straightened his back, as he continued. "But I do not wish to change mine at all. I wish to keep it until I pass to the world of the spirit wolves."
Marengo was silent for several heartbeats, and then let out a rather amused snort. "Is that all?"
"How do you mean?"
"Malice, if you do not wish to change your name, you do not have to."
"I thought it was to be a rule…?"
"How can it be a rule, if I have decided not to change my own name?" Marengo questioned, with a tilt of his head. "Now stop shifting around and worrying over nothing, and help me conduct this blasted ceremony, would you…?"
Malice, relieved, bowed his head to the other, smaller male. "…As you wish, Alpha."
~~~
Worth It
~~~
Malice has been with the Marengo Pack for many moons now. He is loyal, and bold, and willing to do whatever it takes to protect his pack. The pack is his family, after all.
He takes on new wounds and scars without complaint. He spends most of his days out in the wilds, scouting the land and scouring the rolling
hills and desert sands for items worth taking home. He trains the young to the best of his ability.
Malice fights tooth and nail when rogue wolves or ambitious packs attack his home– showing how he earned his name.
The golden-furred male always hears the whispers of the other Alphas and wolves who come to visit their dens. They will often call him 'too plain', too 'weak', too 'solid' (whatever that one means, he doesn't know) or too 'old'. They see him, and their gazes slide right off like water off a duck's back; sometimes with a crinkle of their muzzles and a haughty sniff.
No matter what they say, Malice knows he is not a throwaway.
He is the Alpha's right-shoulder-wolf.
He is a pillar of the Marengo Pack.
He is here to stay.
Hunter 
Hunter