Brook

Brook has always looked up to his his parents, Aspen and Elm, though Aspen never payed much attention to him past weaning him, and Elm was always busy leading the pack, so Brook and his brother Russet ended up raised mostly by Poplar. Though he doesn't mind joking around and having fun, Brook is ambitious at heart, and thinks most wolves put fun way too far ahead of work. This makes him a good, hardworking wolf for the most part, however, despite being raised by Poplar, Brook feels entitled because of his parents' status and his own accomplishments. He believes that he's one of the objectively best wolves in the pack, and was increasingly confused and annoyed when she-wolf after she-wolf rejected him once he started looking for a mate. Brook hated losing, especially to his scrawny younger brother, so it was an unwelcome wake-up call when Russet and Hibiscus got together and seemed genuinely happy. Brook couldn't understand it. How could Hibiscus, of all wolves, choose Russet as a mate? Brook had been generally on good terms with Hibiscus, and knew far too well how many she-wolves --and he-wolves, for that matter-- whispered and giggled about the handsome, charismatic herbalist. If he'd wanted to, Hibiscus could've gotten with any wolf he wanted, Brook was sure of it. What in all the shining stars did Russet have that Brook didn't? Over time, Brook's bitterness grew, and he began to resent both Russet and Hibiscus. He convinced himself that they'd only gotten together to spite him, and to this day shoots them scathing comments whenever Elm isn't watching. The worst part is how little it seems to affect Hibiscus. Still, he knows he can make Russet feel small, and that's enough for him, for now.

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"No, I'm sorry. I'm just not interested." The she-wolf took a step back, wary, but disgustingly stubborn. Brook growled. What was he doing wrong?
"Is it just me?" He snarled, making the she-wolf jump. Her silvery fur glinted in the warm sunlight that made it through the thick trees, so different from his home in the mountains. He'd traveled to the forest under the guise of a solo hunting expedition, sure that this would be the time he would finally come back with a beautiful mate to make Hibiscus and Russet wild with jealousy. When he first saw this she-wolf, drinking alone from the stream with her pretty sunlit fur, he'd known she'd be perfect. But no. Just like every she-wolf before her, she'd rejected him for no reason.
"Is it just you... what?" The she-wolf spoke again, her tone cautious and maybe a little incredulous. Brook took a step towards her, his hackles raised in fury.
"Is it ME?" He demanded, his voice ringing through the trees and making critters scuttle away through the underbrush. "I AM THE SON OF THE ALPHA OF THE MOUNTAIN RUNNERS PACK! MY MOTHER IS THE BEST HUNTER IN THE ENTIRE TERRITORY! IS THAT REPULSIVE TO YOU? WOULD YOU HAVE GONE HOME WITH A HANDSOME, INSUFFERABLE, SLUG EATING SON OF A FOX HERBALIST?"
"I- I have to go." The she-wolf was half-crouched, her ears pinned flat against her head. "Thank you for the offer." Before Brook could lunge at her, she practically vanished, leaving nothing but a flash of silver fur and the shaking of the bushes where she'd disappeared. Brook snarled at nothing in particular, rearing onto his hind legs to rake his claws furiously down the trunk of a tree.
"If you don't mind me saying so, that last insult felt a bit targeted." Brook whirled around, nearly blind with rage. He didn't know how he could be here. Of course he was here. He'd recognize that horrible teasing tone anywhere. Without fully registering where he was going, Brook sprinted at Hibiscus, dreaming of tearing the herbalist to shreds.
Next thing he knew, Brook was flat on his back, his head throbbing and the sunlit branches spinning in and out of view. A blurry brown-and-white shape appeared above him.
"Well, that was unnecessary. Hold still. You've given yourself a nasty cut, running into a tree like that." Brook's head hurt too much for him to even growl. The brown-and-white shape disappeared, and after a moment, something was pressed against his forehead. A minute of silence passed, and Brook felt Hibiscus retreat. His head seemed to have cleared just a little.
"Hello, Brook, can you hear me? Try not to pass out. Carrying you all the way home would be a chore." The amused lilt that made Brook want to tear something to little pieces was still there, in his voice, but something like concern was there too. Brook snarled weakly. He had to show Hibiscus there was nothing to pretend to be concerned about. After all, that would ruin the fun of gloating about having a mate, wouldn't it?
"Oh, good. You recognize me." The amused lilt was back again. Brook screwed his eyes shut. The sun was making his headache worse, and maybe Hibiscus would stop talking if he thought Brook was asleep.
Instead, Brook felt a paw prodding his side. "Hey, no. I was serious, you're not allowed to pass out. Can you get up?" It didn't seem to be a question, because a moment later, he felt Hibiscus pushing him upright. His legs didn't seem to be working, but the herbalist was deceptively strong, and Brook ended up in an awkward sitting position, leaning heavily on Hibiscus's shoulder. Almost immediately, his vision went double, and he nearly fell back down. When he could breathe again, he blinked until his vision was less blurry and found what used to be the contents of his stomach splattered into the grass in front of him.
"Well." Hibiscus said after a moment. "At least the ravens and buzzards will enjoy it?" The herbalist seemed to be either trying not to laugh or hide concern, but Brook couldn't be sure which. He felt a little better, maybe. At least his vision was slowly clearing, and he didn't feel quite as sick.
"Can you walk? We can go to the stream and you can get a drink. You'll be at least a little dehydrated after all that, and I want to test your balance." Hibiscus pushed Brook all the way up, and surprisingly, he found that it wasn't that difficult. He still felt shaky, but his head was definitely clearing, and his dizziness was almost gone. Together, they managed to walk-stumble to the bank of the stream that the silver she-wolf had been drinking at. Brook lapped up the cool water, much warmer than the tooth-aching chill of the mountain rivers and lakes. Hibiscus left his side, apparently studying him as he shakily settled at the base of a tree. The herbalist sat down beside him.
"So." His insufferable teasing voice was back, replacing the no-nonsense healer mode. "What were you trying to do with that poor she-wolf? I've seen wolves flirt. That isn't it." Brook scowled. Hibiscus was mocking him.
"She just didn't realize what a great wolf I am. Stupid feather-brained flea-pelt. But I'm sure you wouldn't know what that's like, with the hundreds of idiots mumbling about how handsome you are. I bet you love all the attention." Hibiscus was silent for a moment, and Brook knew he'd hit home. At least, until Hibiscus let out a mildly concerned chuckle.
"Are you being serious? Maybe that head injury is worse than I thought." Brook jumped to his paws, his hackles rising again despite the dizziness returning.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about! 'Oh my stars, have you seeeen Hibiscus? He's sooooo cool! He helped me with my hunting today, he must really like me!' NOT ALL OF US HAVE IT THAT EASY! But NO! Instead of ACCEPTING all that attention, you got with MY BROTHER to SPITE ME!"
To Brook's fury, Hibiscus looked even more amused.
"Is that really what you think? I won't deny the whispering, but that's just daydreaming adolescents. You think I got with Russet to spite you?" He seemed to be holding back laughter. Brook would've attacked him if not for his throbbing head.
"Well, obviously! You could get any she-wolf you want! Why would anyone ever love my stupid little brother? I'm the strong one! I'm the one who's worth anything at all!"
Brook looked back up at Hibiscus. Weirdly enough, the herbalist wasn't laughing anymore. His blue eyes were cold, deadly serious and angry like they always got whenever Brook pointed out blatant truths.
"Maybe," His voice was serious, now, too, cold as the worst blizzards. "Maybe no she-wolf likes you because you can't take no for an answer. Maybe they don't like you because you think so highly of yourself that you can't imagine anyone else having their own problems. Maybe because it never even occurred to you that I don't like she-wolves, and neither does Russet."
There was a moment of silence that even the wind didn't dare break, before Brook let out a furious snarl. "You're lying. You're just as delusional as the rest of them. I refuse to have this conversation anymore." He stormed off into the trees, nearly bumping his head again. He thought Hibiscus was staying behind in shock, but as he left, he was sure he heard him say, Some wolves never grow up, do they?
That was just fine. Brook didn't need feather-brained dungfaces dragging him down.