Legend has it, that werewolves were children of the Moon herself. She birthed two unnamed sons, these were known as the ‘Fathers’, the furthest ancestors of all werewolves.
But, they were not meant for this world. As humanity had created a cruel reality for all of were-kind.
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Winter, Mid-December
Snow flakes gently sprinkled from the dark, pale sky. The moon hardly shown through the thick cloud cover, its phase was almost whole, a tiny sliver bitten out of the disc.
Whole moons marked annual pack meetings, in which packs near each other’s territory were required to come together and discuss issues such as prey availability. But more than often they ended in argument and disputes, as the Bleak Stars and Northern Frost loved nothing more than to bicker with each other. Tensions were becoming tighter as it was.
Tomorrow night marked the dreaded meeting, Orion had 24 more hours of sweet peace until then. He looked scrawnier than usual, almost sickly. He had started to refuse food once again, when winter drew near, he would often skip meals to make sure the others were well fed. Orion wanted little to no starvation this year, and no disease to break out.
The Alpha lay reclined along an old couch in the living area of the pack’s home, which was merely an abandoned house that had been restored and repaired. It was now cozy and snug, although it may look somewhat dreary to others on the outside. A gentle fire crackled and popped in a brick hearth, children laughing and playing with one another on a patched up rug in front of it.
Other members were gathered nearby, simply enjoying the soft warmth of the fire and relaxing after a long day of work.
Orion tried his best not to focus too much on tomorrow’s meeting, and instead shifted his thoughts towards his partner Alpha’s reports for the day. Calling out in a bland tone. “Justinian, what is the news for today? Anything startling or exciting?”
Interactions: Open,
Fayolah
But, they were not meant for this world. As humanity had created a cruel reality for all of were-kind.
——————————————————
Winter, Mid-December
Snow flakes gently sprinkled from the dark, pale sky. The moon hardly shown through the thick cloud cover, its phase was almost whole, a tiny sliver bitten out of the disc.
Whole moons marked annual pack meetings, in which packs near each other’s territory were required to come together and discuss issues such as prey availability. But more than often they ended in argument and disputes, as the Bleak Stars and Northern Frost loved nothing more than to bicker with each other. Tensions were becoming tighter as it was.
Tomorrow night marked the dreaded meeting, Orion had 24 more hours of sweet peace until then. He looked scrawnier than usual, almost sickly. He had started to refuse food once again, when winter drew near, he would often skip meals to make sure the others were well fed. Orion wanted little to no starvation this year, and no disease to break out.
The Alpha lay reclined along an old couch in the living area of the pack’s home, which was merely an abandoned house that had been restored and repaired. It was now cozy and snug, although it may look somewhat dreary to others on the outside. A gentle fire crackled and popped in a brick hearth, children laughing and playing with one another on a patched up rug in front of it.
Other members were gathered nearby, simply enjoying the soft warmth of the fire and relaxing after a long day of work.
Orion tried his best not to focus too much on tomorrow’s meeting, and instead shifted his thoughts towards his partner Alpha’s reports for the day. Calling out in a bland tone. “Justinian, what is the news for today? Anything startling or exciting?”
Interactions: Open,
Fayolah
