Urokh’s ears swiveled at the sound of his approach, and then shot forward in attentiveness when she saw him. Unthinkingly, she hunched her shoulders a little, an attempt to look smaller than her would-be Alpha. They were about the same size, for he was just as massive as she, and it was all she could do to show deference. He seemed unconcerned about the last woodchuck she had let escape, and a small breath of relief escaped her maw. She let her eyes find his for just a moment, then she looked away, to the ground, to show she was not challenging him. Everything she ever did was driven by instinct.
She perked up a bit when he asked for her name.
“Urokh,” she said, her voice deep and gruff as gravel like always.
“I have no surname. My birth pack did not use them.” She fell silent again. Speak when spoken to. Answer the question, then shut up. That was what her Dam and Sire had taught her. Do as you’re told, stay out of the way, be helpful, don’t blunder about. Always,
always follow an Alpha’s instructions, or you will shame yourself and your pack. Her parents’ words came back to her now, as they often did. They may have chased her out (for an understandable reason), but she still heeded their teachings even now.
Words: 228 @
Gent