Whitestone Monadnock he gave us the high life

For @Saradathia, but other WM wolves are welcome to pop in/pass by since it's set in the main common area near the dens. Will be assuming there's general nearby movement anyway, just keeping it vague.

All her gifts were long gone, enjoyed by the Whitestone wolves as fresh and easy meat. All but one: the twisted and gnarly branch she'd left on the fourth day, laid beside the dead hare. The sight of it had prompted him to snort, an amused acknowledgement of her attempt to show diversity. He'd grabbed both and given the hare to @Kara on his way back, but had kept the branch for himself.

Perhaps it had some medicinal or other significance, but to Craw it was something far less exciting; a good new chew toy.

He had regretted, once or twice, not being able to bring with him the boar femur which he had enjoyed scraping his teeth against back in the willows. It was possibly the only thing he missed about the entire place. @Sven might have been a second, but the boy had shown no inclination to leave his place of birth, and had harboured a deep and lurking darkness which reminded Craw all too much of his father. Craw had no desire to allow anything resembling Skoll near his domain, so the pale boy had been left behind. @Morganna had never seemed too upset by it, despite appearing close to her nephew. Perhaps she had come to the same conclusions as Craw.

The sun rose high, in a rare clear sky, for all the clouds were groundward; a low and faint mist hung over the tundra, as if Whitestone were a solitary island in a sea of soft transparent white. Here on its plateau, the wolves were well above the mist, the world crisp and clear and even a little warm thanks to the unobstructed sun. The large glittering boulders by the pack den had even started to absorb a little heat, and in choosing a relaxed morning, Craw had taken to laying himself upon one, a paw holding the stick in place as he slowly gnawed at the hard woody knot in the middle of it. There he lay, content, watching the others come and go as they pleased, chuffing a greeting whenever they glanced his way.

(This post was last modified: Dec 07, 2016, 02:44 PM by Craw.)

Very slowly Saradathia awoke within the communal den, the groggy wisps of sleep slowly dissolving like mist in sunlight as she rolled onto her stomach and stood quietly, trying not to wake any who may still be nestled within the cave dozing. Dropping down her front half in a stretching bow, her tail wagging softly, A content groan escaped the arctic wolf as she came out of it. She glanced around the dim cave, a small smile on her muzzle as she stepped toward the wall of light illuminating the entrance.


A small hiss escaped her as the sudden brightness surprised her. The girl blinked rapidly “Too bright.” She groaned as she could see again as she moved. A startled squeak escaped as Craw, gnawing on the branch seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Of course though that couldn’t have happened...right? Saradathia dipped her head to her superior, her silvery gaze falling onto what he was chewing. Recognition dawned instantly, as she realized he had been enjoying one of her gifts. The branch had been a complete gamble, though it seemed to have proven a point, though not the one she had been trying to make, but hey, she’d take whatever victory she could.


She glanced up at the sky, the last remnants of sleep preventing her from being able to tell if it was noon or evening so the small wolf settled on a time of day neutral greeting as she turned her attention back to Craw “How it going for you today sir?”[/b]

For a time the only sounds were enamel on wood, the monadnock still and silent as it hung above the mist, but then his ears caught somebody shifting below. Barely moving to acknowledge it, he waited to see who had slept in so late, slowly counting off the names of those he had already seen get up and leave: @Morganna, @Kara, @Odin, @Lorcan... and @Greer and @Isuni, no doubt, had already gone by the time the spider had woken up, so that left but one. The sight of her white pelt, for just a moment, made him think of @Celandine - and he felt a familiar pang of regret at her absence. Any similarities with the ice princess and @Saradathia, however, ended there - as he watched their newest recruit blink at the sunlight and then notice him laid there with a start, dipping her head in automatic reverence. He snorted, quietly, just to himself; not Celandine indeed.

Her question was as respectful as her manner, and it was with satisfaction that he noted the addition of sir. They might have followed him without disrespect, but there was no denying the underlying attitude of Capable, of Celandine - even Greer, to an extent. Craw was pleased to have another Lorcan in the pack to balance it out. "Very well," he wheezed in casual reply, laying the branch down and placing one forearm over it, to hold it still, a small indication of possessiveness. "Did you enjoy your lazy morning?" The sun was past its midpoint in the sky, and all the others were awake and busy by now.

The white wolf gave her thick coat a shake as Craw spoke, quickly though, the implications of his comment woke the girl up. She became a little tense, flinching even at the lazy comment, thinking that Craw was hinting that she wasn’t up to standard, she stammered out in a squeak. “S-sir!” She felt her heart beating quickly at the thought of displeasing the Alpha male, even more so at what he might do to a lazy pack mate.


The Yearling felt her torn ear burning, completely rational and well founded terror passed through the girl. Her old pack despised laziness and any wolf who had been caught in the act had been severely punished. Would he be the same? She wondered as she awaited some verdict of the larger male on the subject. Saradathia had been adjusting fairly well to life within the pack, but few things could still trigger tramas from the past and letting down her Alphas were one of them. She settled down tensely on her haunches, muzzled pointed toward the ground in shame. {b} “S-sir, I-i’m sorry, I overslept, I was out last night hunting...I came back tired...I-i’ll go back out immediately with your permission.”

Her panic was plain as the sun in the sky. Craw watched with a controlled passiveness as she sat, wondering if she was actually quivering, and averted her gaze in clear embarrassment. She acted as though she had been caught in the act, and it was true that his choice of wording had implied judgement, but @Saradathia's reaction was interesting nevertheless. As their newest member, and the first wolf to successfully pass his initiation test, the spider was keen to get to know this young slip of a girl who had shown enough promise to be accepted. This display of meekness reminded him of Lorcan. While Craw did not mind it entirely - for it was apt to show some level of reverence towards a superior, even fear, but not if it meant just being a coward.

Choosing to let her stew for a few moments longer, he watched her after her hurried apology, grunting quietly to himself in acknowledgement of it. So she was capable, but in need of a backbone. Or perhaps once she understood her boundaries, what was and wasn't acceptable, she would grow into a more confident creature. But finally he chose to put her out of her misery. "Do your daily duties and come promptly when called, and I don't care when you choose to sleep." Then, with no warning that the subject had changed slightly: "What did you catch?"

A lynx has left behind the remains of a deer. +5 Health

Saradathia calmed at Craw’s words. Knowing something like that definitely helped ease the anxiety she tried to hide. With the abrupt change in subject a small smile formed on the yearling’s muzzle. She had come this far south with little knowledge about the wolves or the packs, but hunting never really changed beyond tactics. She settled down onto her stomach, making herself comfortable before she spoke. “It wasn’t anything special, a couple Lemmings and a hare.”


“The prey is a lot more abundant around here then where I’m from..it’s a nice change of pace too, a larger variety and new tactics to catching them, I’m looking forward to either figuring them out myself or learning them from the others.” The white wolf glanced up momentarily toward the tops of the rocks before humming to herself, turning her attention back onto her Alpha she asked in genuine curiosity “How was Whitestone Monadnock formed?” The land around the plains were rich in resources by the arctic wolf’s standards and she had been wondered for awhile. Had the pack always been here? Was it recent or newly formed? And the history following the pack had the girl wondering.

(This post was last modified: Dec 07, 2016, 05:15 PM by Saradathia.)

The white girl did calm with his reassurance, which Craw observed with interest. She might not have been the meek and anxious creature he suspected, then, but simply someone who liked to know where their boundaries were. That suited the spider perfectly, assuming she was also the type of wolf to respect those boundaries. Making a mental note to ensure that she was properly schooled in all things expected of her, in time, he watched her get a little more comfortable.

Licking his lips at the mention of her catches, he glanced towards the direction of the cache, wondering if any of them had found their way there. He could do with a meal. One ear remained pointed in her direction, hearing her tell of how the fauna here differed from what she was used to, of how she was adapting her tactics to compensate. Good. His intuition that she would make an adept hunter was clearly on the money, and he made another mental note, beside the first, to more formally encourage her down that path. It was a good thing, too; his window of opportunity to mention it then and there was closed when she asked her question about Whitestone's history. Craw shifted on his rock slightly, getting more comfortable, his smile growing wider at her curiosity.

A newcomer interested in the pack's dynamics and formation was always a good sign that they were committed to their new life.

Where to begin? Aware that @Saradathia had come from far afield much like himself, Craw decided that she required as much context as possible, and it was healthy for the Whitestone wolves to understand where they had come from. For them to be able to behave better than the wolves who had caused them to take this action in the first place, and to know the names of those who should be considered a threat to Whitestone. "We founded it earlier this year," he replied, looking forward to the day that he could welcome a loner to their ranks and declare the pack had existed for many seasons, rather than barely even three. "Morganna was born in a pack to the south of here, perhaps a third of a moon's cycle south, which I joined last year. Willow Ridge. She was the heir, and due to inherit from her aging mother - but the pack had grown ill-formed and sick with internal politics. The male lead was her uncle, @Nicolò, who had taken over from her weakening father. Nicolo refused to allow Morganna to ascend properly, even when she challenged and defeated her mother fairly - he even threatened her unborn children in his selfishness, and effectively ensured that the pack's loyalties were divided. The plan to remove Nicolo failed, and by that point there was many of us who could see that Willow Ridge was rotting from inside. Rather than try to save a corpse, we left. Myself, Morganna, @Wraith, Capable and @Greer."

It was good that she know who the founders were, who had been here since the beginning. Craw was left bitter that he could not say Celandine's name. "Morganna was pregnant when we left and head north, and her time was near when we arrived at this place." A brief but significant gesture of his snout indicated the grand rock they sat upon. "Odin and Kara were born here, in the midst of a storm, and we claimed it for ourselves that very night."

Saradathia listened keenly to Craw’s tale of the founding wolves and how they had come from the south, a place she had yet to and little reason to visit. The tundra was all she really needed, and the wolves she shared it with were the ones she called family, to learn where that family had originated was beneficial for her in her own eyes. She glanced down at the stony ground they sat upon before nodding “Quite a powerful message and future for Kara and Odin to carry on as they grow.”

Saradathia gave her companion a look over, pausing before speaking {b} “if I may ask, what’s your story? You mentioned Morganna’s origins, but not how you arrived in that pack, or where you hailed from before and I’m curious, the scars you bare? May I ask where they came from? I’m genuinely curious.” She was, the Spider was covered in unusual and unique scars, each bearing an untold story that she was curious to hear. Maybe one day she could even reveal the stories behind her own, but for now, she was content simply to listen to another’s tales. The female shifted slightly, a hind leg raising to scratch behind her torn ear as she settled down.

Her response was brief but to the point, and he liked her straightforward, respectful reaction to the tale. She may not have been there for it, but to be a Whitestone wolf, Craw thought it invaluable for her to know it, to appreciate it, to absorb it. The history of the pack from here, assuming she proved worthy, would include her name; it served her well to know the names of those who had come before her.

And she was right, of course. Odin and Kara had much to uphold in the years ahead.

The woman's next question gave him pause, for he hadn't expected it. But while he initially hesitated at the idea, he quickly concluded that he should treat his own history much like the pack's, for it had all come together. Whitestone would not have existed if not for all which had brought him to this place from times before Willow Ridge and Morganna. @Saradathia peppered her curiosity with words of respect and acceptance that Craw may have chosen to shut it down, but as he looked at her, he thought it a perfectly reasonable request.

Not every wolf was some spy from his past, sent by his father, even though a tiny part of him twinged in paranoia at her simple curiosity.

"I'm from a place much further north," he wheezed, shifting the stick from under one paw to the other idly, just to move his paws as he considered his response. "From the plains near a mountain known as the Howler. My father claimed all the power of the pack which I built for him, and we... the older I got... we had some fundamental disagreements." He smiled, thinly, for she would guess that there was more to the story but he hardly trusted her enough for a quarter of it yet. In time. "I came south when I was left with no other options, and joined Willow Ridge to recover my strength. The rest is as you know." Feeling good about himself, about sharing something incredibly painful and private so easily (even if so very light on the details) he regarded Saradathia afresh, already feeling a little closer to her.

"What about you?" he asked, turning it back on her, since this seemed an excellent opportunity for them to both get to know each other better.