WC:: 605 I’m setting this to about a week and a half after Drin’s acceptance into New Dawn.

Palaydrian’s seal point paws had found themselves carrying the tawny femme out of New Dawn packlands once again. She was no doubt quickly falling in love with her new pack, but the thrill of tracking down her grandmother’s past kept her occupied during the daylight hours. So far the trail had run cold, but the young wolfess was hard to give up. She had meandered through the lands embracing Inferni a few times now and found the Dampwoods, as they were called, made for excellent hunting grounds. The femme was surprised another neighboring pack hadn’t cordoned off the area for themselves, but the pine needle forest remained untainted and unclaimed by the pungent odor of territorial urine. Drin selfishly liked to think the more north-western section of the woods was her own little paradise. Here the flora and fauna as well as waking life was abundant. It was the perfect place for the stealthy hunter to sharpen and hone her skills.

It was early morning, but the forest had already woken up out of its syrupy slumber. Shafts of orange and gold sunlight blanketed the forest floor. Bugs of different kinds buzzed about as a multitude of birds dipped and swooped about the tree tops and more shadowy areas. Their birdsong chatter echoed in the woods, light and airy talk undisturbed and going about their business. A lilac dipped ear twitched to flick off the mayfly that had just landed. A sleek lupine body was crouched low beneath a fern bed. Palaydrian was the epitome of a focused hunter. Muscles ready to spring were bundled in her stance and her pupils were pinpricks in the dappled light. The she-wolf moved silently forward, her large paws practiced in the art of rolling slowly onto the ground. Her quarry, a large groundhog, was busy modifying its home, which was a large network of tunnels and holes. Drin would only get one chance, as one false move would send the determined pig into the depths of his home, not to return to the light of day until much later.

She inched as close as she dared, taking shallower breaths now. The groundhog had a systematic way of working. Dig here, pat there, stand tall and look about, and finally collect grass from here before going back under. It was the last task that Drin knew would be her only chance, but the groundhog was growing weary as a pesky robin spotted the wolf a few minutes ago, and the red breasted male began to chirp in his distress. The young Soul waited and became a statue until the robin gave up its protests and continued its mating call. The groundhog went back to its business. Her ears slowly folded backward against her head before she bolted from beneath the ferns in an athletic leap, paws outstretched to make contact with her prey. An ugly sound between a screech and bark erupted from the groundhogs mouth before powerful canines clamped tight around its windpipe breaking it within seconds. The forest erupted with panic energy and slowly clamored down once the death of the groundhog was accepted, and life went on.

Warm blood had been filling the wolf’s mouth before she dropped the lifeless body at her paws. The drink of victory was intense. Drin’s tongue lolled out in a wolfish grin before she picked up her game and carried it back into the ferns. Happy with her successful hunt, the Siamese coated wolf place the still warm carcass under her paw and bent down to take her first bite. Bon appetit!

WC 3+

Palaydrian’s head was bent as if in prayer as her open maw descended towards the torn neck flesh of the groundhog. She readied her jaws to tear into the flesh once more when her ears flicked towards the low growl. Immediately, the hackles on the female rose and bristled out as she lowered her body over her kill like a lioness to her cub. Her secular heterochromia eyes anxiously scanned the surroundings. They lighted upon the red coat of a coyote upon their second pass. The wolf wasn’t surprised she hadn’t noticed the intruder’s scent as blood was now caked in her snout. A low rumble began in her throat, she had only heard bad things about the coyotes and mix breeds in these parts, but she wasn’t against non-wolves. The growl was simply a warning that the stranger had been spotted, and Drin would not give up her quarry without a fight.

”Stranger, come out of the shadows that I may greet you,” she said, the growl leaving her voice gravelly but falling away. “There is plenty of meat on this fat hog, I might as well share.” It was an invitation if the stranger so wished to dine. Drin turned her attention back to the groundhog and set her paws on one half of the body. She bit down on the neck and gave the corpse’s upper body a few twists and tugs, before pulling it apart. Satisfied with her work, Drin left the severed body on the floor between herself and the stranger. “Heads or tails?” She asked, a friendly tone smoothing down her hackles and replacing her previous alert stance.

WC:: 295 Sorry for the delay! Finally saw the doc yesterday and it’s a lower respiratory infection...no bueno.

”Tails it is...” the golden femme said under her breath before taking the bottom portion of the groundhog corpse. She watched the coywolf with curiosity, averting her gaze now and then to enjoy their shared meal. Palaydrian noticed a few similarities the two shared. Ears dipped in paint and all her limbs except for one matched the hybrid, but other than that, the differences were what attracted Drin’s attention. She admired her dinner guest’s large ears. Her visage which made her so plainly coyote was something fascinating as it was on the body of a wolf. Drin had heard rumors of mixings, but had never seen a hybrid up close. She wondered if this female also carried the Luperci gift as so many she had met in the old Bleeding Souls lands had. Could the mutation be carried in all types of canines? She didn’t think an answer would come out of the stranger so easily.

The female’s suspicion hung thick in the air. Drin knew neither would be able to appreciate the fresh kill without anxiety looming over their heads, so she decided to break the ice. “Look, I mean you no harm. My name is Palaydrian,” she said hoping the silent one would chose to speak this time.

WC 2+ Thank you!

Terra. The femme repeated the coywolf’s name in her mind. Her movements didn’t go unnoticed by the wolf. She wondered why the girl was so apprehensive. Was this a packwolf from the war altercations Jiva had told her about? Maybe everyone was just on edge in neutral territories. Palaydrian tried to make her stance casual, not wanting her new acquaintance to think there was any hostility between them. She was still new to these lands, and if her pack had anything against hybrids, she was none the wiser.

She took a few tentative bites of her kill, allowing the hunger pangs in her stomach to adjust to the sudden influx of food before taking large bites. Drin didn’t realize how hungry she was until the flavor of blood consumed her tastebuds. She glanced up at Terra, hopefully enjoying her meal as well. Drin eventually moved to a laying down position with the finished remains of her half between her paws. She licked at the bones, satisfied with her lunch. “Are you in one of the packs?” Drin asked, curious of which borders she may might be close to at the moment.

WC 2+

Palaydrian was surprised to realize she was enjoying the coywolf’s company. Her tawny gold tail lightly swished against the pine needled earth a she watched the petite lady consume her half. She was amazed at the fast work Terra had made, and couldn’t help but allow the creeping smile on her lips to spread. The she-wolf stayed in her lounging position when the red furred female sat up and swelled with pride at the chance of speaking about her pack. Cour des Miracles... she mused, she rather liked the name of it, and from what Terra was telling her, it was a pack anyone would be happy in.

”They don’t judge you for what you are.” Drin automatically flinched, but quickly recovered from her physical response with a question, ”A pack of equals then?” She asked, curious as to what Terra had meant as she had come from a birth pack that felt her gift of Luperci was something akin to a curse. She was quickly learning that the factions around these parts were much different from where she grew up, and she wanted to learn as much as she could about them, so as not to come off as a complete sheltered child.

WC:: 200+

”Being Luperci is a gift child,” Syliat soothed, gently brushing the tears off of Palaydrian’s 4 month old face. “Then why did-did they call me n-names?” The pup whined in hyperventilating breaths, the voice of child who’d spent an hour bawling. “Because the ignorant throw rocks at the things they do not understand...cannot even begin to fathom a different way of life when they are so stubbornly stuck in the past. The world has moved on Palaydrian. Keep your chin up, all this...them, will mean nothing one day.” The demon embraced her great granddaughter and sent her on her way. The pup hadn’t understood what she had meant then, but now grown, Drin was beginning to realize how very much so her old pack and the lands she had grown up in differed from the thoughts and ideals of Souls wolves.

The tawny femme felt a stab of embarrassment from the look Terra gave her, but perhaps she should’ve fleshed out her question a bit more. “Oh, of course a pack would need its hierarchy in place. I simply meant, well, they do not discriminate against lineage or blood?” She hoped her question wasn’t offensive. Drin had no qualms against coyotes or mix breeds. Mostly because she hadn’t had the opportunity to have conversations with other breeds other than wolf, but she had no reason or thought ingrained in her brain to be racist. “I realize now, how many of the packs differ from each other. Could you tell me more about yours?” Hopefully her curiosity wasn’t a burden.

WC:: 2+

Terra’s answer stung Palaydrian. What had the female meant by that? She’d have to ask, but she was afraid of what she would learn. Had she joined the wrong pack? The discrimination she had met back home had only become bearable when she stopped shifting, but Syliat had told her it was a gift that she should be proud of. She wanted to get away from a place that set up a list of standards and rules each member must uphold, not be held down by something. Luperci was in her blood and back home she had had to forget that part of her life and deny her true self. Would New Dawn ask the same of her here?

The thought made her feel sick. Terra obviously had something against New Dawn or she wouldn’t have scoffed so much at the answer. Drin wanted to get to the bottom of it, but was momentarily distracted by the information on Cour des Miracles. “What division do you take part in?” Drin asked. She didn’t think such a petite creature would uphold the title of a Warrior, but she wouldn’t be surprised if that was Terra’s answer. “Do you possess a trade skill? I’ve only heard about canines working with their hands as humans once did, but I’ve never seen it. I guess you could say I came from a very sheltered upbringing,” Drin admitted. “Though I did do a bit of secret gardening when I was younger...” she explained, unsure if that was something she should’ve fessed up to or not.

WC:: 4+

Palaydrian nodded at Terra’s response and a friendly smile played on her lips. Her assumptions had been correct after all. A story teller, Drin thought to herself remembering a few of the elders in her pack as holding such titles. She fondly thought of the large pack meetings where they’d gather in the high places to hear the stories of old being told in the dying light of the sun going down. Here she came to realize that the wolves who so openly embraced Luperci also harnessed fire, which she had a natural fear of. Yet tales were told by fireside here, and the golden femme knew she eventually had to get over her fear or be forever the odd woman out.

”I’m not a fighter either,” Drin admitted with a slight shrug of her shoulders as she drew her body off the ground to sit back on her haunches. She wasn’t able to mask the surprise that came over her when Terra asked her about gardening. The fae supposed she had wrongly assumed all wolves in these parts had some knowledge of the human pastime. Her smile broadened, she wasn’t as sheltered as she thought she was, well at least not with this.

”It’s growing and cultivating plantlife,” she said with some pride, “Well more specifically vegetables or herbs that can be used and consumed either for food or medicinal purposes. Though, when I was younger I also liked planting different kinds of flowers,” she laughed softly at this confession, “I’d arrange bouquets for my mother, but you could eventually dry out the flowers to create infusions for teas.” Drin hadn’t realized how much her great grandmother was teaching her when she was a pup until the words fell off her tongue. Had Syliat been planning on turning her into a healer? The newfound purpose for her green thumb made her heart beat faster, she wanted to practice her skills and see how much knowledge she had obtained.

”Now I’m getting carried away, but that’s basically the jist,” she said, feeling that now would be a good time to ask Terra about her feelings on New Dawn. “What you said earlier...about my pack being different from yours. I couldn’t help but notice some...discomfort?” She asked, trying to keep her voice from being accusatory. She simply wanted to know if maybe Terra knew something about her new pack that she didn’t.