Sorry for taking longer to start than I wanted to. Internet connection is hit-or-miss at my house.

Word of the day and 300+

The blue-gray wolfess decided to try something new today: leave Magic alone in the Crimson Dreams territory. She knew the members of the pack sometimes went outside of the borders, and as much as Pixie loved her horse, she longed to wander by herself occasionally. Knowing she wasn’t going to get that opportunity if Magic wasn’t comfortable being by himself in their new home, she thought she would start getting him used to the idea. She had ordered the chestnut stallion follow her until they reached the cottage where there were always a few goats hanging out, and ordered him to stay. At first, he had been temperamental, but after some persuading and reassurance that yes, indeed, Pixie was coming back, Magic had calmed down and started eating away at the branches of the trees that surrounded the little house.


And so she quietly slipped away in her optime form, her guitar in one hand and her satchel on her back, carrying her lesson book and berries she had picked the day before. Pixie had been traveling north all morning until she reached the land known as Ethereal Eclipse. The dense forest made Pixie a little uncomfortable, but she relaxed when she found a crack of sunlight next to a bubbling stream. Setting her satchel and guitar down, she heaved some stones from the water onto dry land to create a makeshift seat. After a few minutes, she was satisfied with her bricolage and proceeded to put it to use, sitting down and plucking each string, making sure each one was tuned. As she was tuning, she glanced around, wondering how any place could be so quiet and seemingly devoid of other creatures. It was haunting, and part of her liked that, but it also made the fur rise on the back of her neck.

It's alright. I was going to remind you if the thread went onto the next page. xD And I backdated it, don't worry.

300+

She was so focused with tuning her guitar that she at first didn’t notice the wolf that stepped out from the depths of the forest. It was only when she was finished tuning and looked up that she noticed the stranger. The first things Pixie noticed were the colors: cream fur, red-brown hair, brown eyes, pink and blue clothing, dusty green leaves fading into the reds, yellows, and browns of autumn. She was like a palette of colors, this wolf, and it made Pixie curious as to where she was from. The young woman—she seemed to be less than a year old—didn’t carry the scent of Crimson Dreams or any of the other packs. In fact, Pixie confirmed with a quick sniff that she hadn’t been around any other wolves recently. Perhaps she was a loner, like Pixie herself was not too long ago.


“Hello,” she greeted cheerfully, lengthening her vowels as though she were singing. When the stranger complimented her guitar, she felt herself blush under her fur; her guitar was like her child, an actual part of her soul, and so she swelled with pride whenever someone voiced their liking of it. “Thanks…it’s seen better days, but it’s still got some life in its strings.” She plucked each string and listened to the notes—E, A, D, G, B, E—letting each one fill the air for a second before she plucked the next one. Then she strummed them all at once, lightly and quickly, her left hand (her stronger one) a blur as she effortlessly made the notes blend together to create one beautiful sound.


“I’m Pixie Frost,” she introduced herself, extending her opposite hand to shake the other wolf’s. “I’m from Crimson Dreams, the pack by Rabbit Lake. Do you live around here?” At this point, she was pretty sure the stranger wasn’t part of a pack, but she wanted to know if the wolfess lived around Ethereal Eclipse or was just passing through.

300+

Pixie noticed the wolfess’s liking towards the guitar and smiled. She loved how art, especially music, could bring people from different backgrounds and lifestyles together with one passion. Even Magic liked it whenever she played the guitar; if he was in earshot when she plucked a string, he would lift his head and trot over to her, then quietly listen as she practiced chords or played a whole song. It was a beautiful feeling, whenever she made someone happy with her music.


“Skye,” she repeated, shaking her hand and then resting it back on her guitar. “That’s a nice name.” When she said it, the blue-gray wolfess imagined a blue sky with clouds of all sorts of shapes and birds of all different sizes. It was a musical name, one that might appear in a song. Then again, any name could appear in a song and sound nice as long as you sang it with meaning. And Collins…Pixie had never heard of a family named Collins. She hadn’t really heard of any family names until she joined Crimson Dreams. The name Frost was her own creation; she had given herself the moniker after the same incident in which her stallion’s name appeared on her hand.


I don’t really live here. I sort of wander. So she was a wanderer, just like Pixie and her horse had been. But then Skye mentioned that she was starting a pack with a friend. “Oh, you are?” she asked. “What kind of pack? Are you going to live around here?” Pixie was curious, but (at least for now) not interested in joining. New packs were usually risky to join; the hierarchy and territories weren’t properly established, there were often not a lot of members…nevertheless, she wanted to know about this pack, for the purpose of informing the rest of Crimson Dreams and also because she was simply intrigued by the idea.

Word of the Day

Pixie’s ears perked up when she heard the word “art.” It definitely sounded like her kind of pack; artists, musicians, writers…it was almost as if her very essence had been rolled into one pack. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she had recently joined another pack, she would have probably joined Cercatori d’Arte.


“I write songs and can play them on my guitar,” she said. “If things ever get bad in Crimson Dreams, your pack sounds like a nice place.” The blue-gray wolf chuckled, then added, “At least, I hope you don’t mind if I visit every now and then. I’ve never really talked to other musicians and writers, and I definitely would like to learn some art.”


At Skye’s mention of where the new pack’s location would be, Pixie nodded. “So then it won’t be that far away from Crimson Dreams. I can get here in a flash riding on my horse; the only reason I didn’t bring him out here today is so he can get used to being on his own.” Her eyes brightened at the mention of her stallion, and she felt a pang in her stomach from being away from him. But leaving Magic in Crimson Dreams territory was for her benefit as well; like the chestnut, she needed to make new friends, perhaps some that were the same species as her.


Then she realized the pain in her stomach was also from hunger. Opening up her satchel, she found the berries she had packed and popped a few into her mouth. “Want some?” She held out a bunch of them, offering Skye the viand.

300+

The violet-eyed woman had never fully understood why people took a liking to the sound of her own guitar, which she estimated was about as old as her great-grandfather, but she still beamed with pride at the compliment. “I can totally teach you guitar,” she said, smiling mischievously, “if you don’t mind teaching me how to read. You said you write, right? Well, I can’t understand a word of human literature, which has slowed down my own learning of how to play. Maybe I could visit this pack you’re forming about once a month, or you can visit mine—I’ll tell Savina and Anu that you’re a friend—and we can teach each other. Deal?” She stuck out her hand once more, waiting for Skye shake on it. The idea seemed even better the more she thought about it, and she hoped the other she-wolf would agree to it.


“You’re welcome,” she replied, not hungry enough yet to eat any herself. Besides, she had eaten berries just as much as she ate meat while she was traveling, and sometimes they were the only thing she could eat when times got tough. None of them were quite as enjoyable to her as they were when she was younger.


At Skye’s obvious curiosity of her horse, Pixie frowned a little. She had yet to meet any canines around these parts that actually rode like her. But she knew there were other horses around here somewhere; she had seen hoof prints, dung, and places where grass and leaves had been chomped at. “My own horse, Magic, is a stallion—a male. He’s pretty tall, taller than me, though I’m pretty short for a Luperci myself and he’s tall for a horse. Anyways, he’s a chestnut—he’s a caramel brown with a reddish mane, and a few white spots.” Snickering, she added, “He’s a complete show-off. He does this fancy, high-stepping jog with his head and neck raised, as if he didn’t look tall enough.”

Le muse is gone

Pixie shook her hand and grinned along with her. Now she would be able to read and write, and not have to decipher the diagrams in her handbook or doodle to remember songs and poems. And in turn, she could pass on her knowledge of guitar playing to Skye and possibly other members of Crimson Dreams and Cercatori D’Arte. She had never made this kind of deal or friendship with anyone, and it gave her an uplifting feeling. Maybe pack life wouldn’t be so difficult to adjust to after all, after living on her own for so long. “So, how often would you like to meet?” she asked the other wolfess. “I think once a month would be good, but if that doesn’t work, I’m open for anything. And maybe we could alternate between who travels to the other’s pack each time.”


Running her fingers through her spiked hair, she let out a short laugh. “Ha, it’s definitely fun. Definitely a challenge—it’s like riding the wind. I learn something new every day.” Pixie strummed her guitar a few times before answering Skye’s question. “Not that I know of. I was thinking that, if any of the other wolves in my pack say they want to learn how to ride, I’ll see if there’s anyone in the other packs who’s willing to trade a horse for something. If not, I could just teach them how to ride on Magic, but it would be better if they had their own horse.”

Bleh, mine is short, too. Think this is almost done?

Pixie tilted her head in curiosity. “What’s a library? And where’s Halifax? Is that a town around here?” She still didn’t know every tree and bush in the Souls territory, and Crimson Dreams wasn’t particularly close to whatever this Halifax place was—at least, she had never heard of Halifax before from her fellow pack members. And whatever a library was, she hoped there were plenty of books in it.


“I don’t think I’d offer riding lessons myself,” said the blue-gray wolfess dryly. “If someone wanted to learn how to ride, they could come find me, but I’m way too self-centered to try to set up a business for it.” She was about to say she was a horrible teacher, but didn’t in case she would discourage Skye, even if she was only joking. The truth was, she had never taught anyone anything. “Besides, I’m fine with just one guitar.” Nevertheless, she smiled at Skye’s joke, happy that the other woman didn’t think she had to be uptight because she was a leader.


She got to her feet and swung her guitar around on her back, her violet eyes glancing around the forest before focusing back on Skye. “I’ll see you in a month, I suppose,” she said, holding her hand out once more.