˗ˏˋ serpent's keep ♔ book of lore ˎˊ˗

A white shadow passes through the winding tunnels. The heavier the darkness grew around the herbalist, the more anxieties weighed on her mind. She already missed the sunlight and open air where she could fill her lungs with the mountain's air. Wolves didn't often wander off into the sunshine to never return. The same couldn't be said for the depths of the caves. 

Relief washed over her as she spotted what she came here for: An elk hide covered in teeth and clawmarks depicting the lineage of Serpent's Keep Pack. She held her breath as she picked it up and backed out of the chamber. The sound of her pawsteps echoed against the walls as she hurried away from these tunnels and towards the open air where her King awaited her. 

i. Intro

ii. Pack law

iii. Wolves

vi. Gallery

v. Stories

♔ Pack Law

i. Obey the Monarch

The King, Queen, or Monarch is the head of the pack. Their rule is absolute and while they often consult the hunters over pack matters, their word is final. Monarchs don't necessarily come into power through a direct bloodline. Instead, they are chosen by the Divine Forces that watch over the pack to ensure future success. Monarchs are allowed to take a mate (or mates), but their mate does not share their status. Each Monarch may choose a Knight, a second-in-command to act in their stead when they are away. 

ii. Honor the Hunters

Aside from the Monarch, the hunters claim the most prestigious role in the pack. As a result, most of the pack consists of hunters. The hierarchy is further divided by which hunting group a wolf belongs to and how well they perform in that group. Thus, a young wolf who is exceptionally talented at hunting may outrank seasoned hunters with more experience but less skill. 

iii. Protect the pack

Each wolf is expected to act for the good of the pack and perform their duties to the fullest for their sake. Hunters in particular must follow this rule--in addition to hunting, they ensure the pack's lands are secure and that members feel safe. Pups and elders are expected to be particularly well-cared for by all pack members, although all non-combative wolves such as herbalists, scouts, and elders are watched over as well. As an extension of this rule, all illness within the pack is handled swiftly and to the best of the pack's ability. This rule also covers harming fellow pack members: Thievery, attack, and murder are strictly against pack rules. That much should go without saying, yet...

♔ Pack Customs

i. Food

Serpent's Keep Pack has very particular customs around meals. Each morning, food stores providing, each wolf is given a full meal to satisfy their hunger. The biggest and best carcasses are eaten first: Elk and deer are prioritized first, while feathered prey and hare are prioritized last. Wolves eat according to their rank. First are the hunters, with the fastest and strongest eating before the weaker hunters. Next come the pups, starting with the youngest. After that, the rest of the pack eats. The alpha is responsible for managing the food, from preventing it from going to waste to deciding which porcupine exactly the pack should dine on.

♔ Wolves of Serpent's Keep

♕ King Wicker 

♘ Knight November

♖ Hunters

♙ Pups & Denkeepers

> Clover || Denkeeper

> Spider || Pupsitter

> Ghost || Pupsitter

> Coal || Mentor

♗ Pack members



> Camellia || Herbalist

> Hemlock || Stud

> Daisy || Scout

> Ash || Scout

♔ Gallery

♔ Stories

i. Featherclaws

ii. Archer

iii. Pine

iv. Introduction

♖ Featherclaws 

“A second hunting pack? With who, just you and Riko?” Wicker asked, barely bothering to look at Titan. Titan had to admit… it sounded better in his head. He didn’t let his confidence waver, however.

“Yes. Humble beginnings, as Elkguard once had. Wasn’t it merely Echo and November who hunted for Serpent’s Keep in those early days?” The expression on Wicker’s face confirmed that Titan’s words had an impact--whether positive or negative, though, Titan couldn’t say. 

“Find a third member and you have my approval,” Wicker stated. 

Approval. Just as Titan was beginning to think this plan was doomed after all. His packmates flashed through his mind--The youths, full of energy but yet too young, the herbalist and scout, both tied to their own jobs, the other hunters who would surely never abandon Elkguard… no one suited the role. He would have to find extra paws outside of Serpent’s Keep.

“Thank you,” Titan replied, bowing his head. “I won’t disappoint.”

~~~

There was nothing remarkable about Storm. He might as well be a statue, as he was gray from stone and no more interesting to talk to than one. He would likely be the worst hunter of the pack as he boasted little to no training in hunting outside of scrounging for mice on the edge of other wolves’ territory. Yet, he had a sharpness to his gaze and he got along well with Titan. He would have to do.

“King Wicker,” Titan began, bolstering his words with a formal bow, “This is Storm. He wishes to join Serpent’s Keep pack temporarily, providing his services as a hunter in exchange for training.” The formality wasn’t necessary, but Titan figured that Storm could use the extra oomph. 

Wicker regarded the grey wolf. He looked about as impressed with him as Titan felt. “Storm, where are you from?” Wicker asked

“I’m from the prairie.” After a pause, Storm added, “I grew up there with my mom and dad and siblings, and when we all got old enough we went our separate ways. I made my way to the mountains and… here I am.” 

“Are you willing to swear loyalty to Serpent’s Keep Pack, so long as you are here? To put the pack before yourself, observe Hunter’s way of life, and follow my command?” 

“I.. Yes, I am.” 

“All right, then. You may stay, so long as you follow the rules. Titan will be responsible for you. Don’t disappoint, this new hunting party deserves your best efforts.” Wicker’s gaze settled on Titan. Excitement surged through him like a bird through the brush, his paws unable to keep still. As he was about to give his thanks Wicker cut him off. “Well, don’t you have hunting to do?” 

♗ Archer

Wicker could see it in Archer’s eyes. The growing confidence, the sideways glances at packmates, the hunger that settled a little deeper every day. When the two wolves first met, two wanderers in an equally foreign land, their alliance grew naturally. Archer was laid back, independent, and satisfied with a den of his own to return to when he returned home from exploring. The same could hardly be said about him now.

The first time Archer stepped out of line, it was easy to believe it had been an accident. As a scout for the pack, he held one of the lowest-ranking roles and he was expected to wait his turn for his meals while the warriors of the pack ate their fill. When he was caught with a grouse all to himself before the rest of the pack had eaten, he gave Wicker a sheepish smile and claimed he didn’t know better. He thought the pack had eaten already while he was away that morning. An honest mistake, surely. Yet when Wicker snatched the carcass away with a snarl and a clash of teeth on skin, he caught the glint of malice in those sunburnt eyes.

The second time, it was a small but clear act of rebellion. Archer was gone for nearly three consecutive days without stepping foot within the territory of Serpent’s Keep. As a scout, he had the most freedom to come and go of any pack member, but at the end of each day, he was still required to report back to Wicker. When he did show up again, trotting through the cave entrance when the sun was at its peak, tongue lolling as if nothing had happened, anger raked like claws through Wicker’s chest. “Where have you been?” he demanded.

“Exploring the swamp,” Archer replied. “Like you asked.”

Both wolves knew full well it was a lie.

 The third time, Archer was much bolder. He strode up next to the hunters as they tore apart an elk, joining in as surely as if he had brought the beast down himself. Before Wicker even registered what was happening, Echo met Archer with a spitting snarl. Archer stared at her--a simple gesture that sent a ripple of surprise and anticipation throughout the pack. While Echo was well-regarded as one of the best hunters of the pack, and thus one of the highest-ranking wolves, it was clear to see that Archer had outgrown every other wolf present in size and strength. 

“That’s enough,” Wicker interrupted the pair on the brink of bloodshed. Both turned to look at him, one with fury and the other with resentment. “Archer.” 

Archer’s eyes narrowed. He stood for a heartbeat too long, then bowed away from the elk. As he stalked past, Wicker could see the red stains on his muzzle and smell the metallic tinge on his breath. “Who is it that made you king again, Wicker?” Archer asked. His voice was unrecognizable from the gentle tone of the wolf Wicker had once met out in the wilds. Wicker stared forwards without as much as a flick of an ear in acknowledgment. 

One by one, the hunters returned to their kill, easily finding their enthusiasm for a good meal again. The near-fight played again in Wicker’s mind: The boldness in Archer’s step, the steel in his expression, his sheer size next to the pack’s best warriors. If this is how Archer was going to act from now on, Wicker couldn’t allow him to stay any longer.

✧

That night, silhouetted against the light of a wolf’s claw moon, Wicker met with November at the mouth of the cave. His knight’s golden eyes flickered across the shadows, hungry for action. “We have to be quick,” Wicker warned, his gaze following hers. 

“And quiet,” November replied. “The pack won’t have to know.” 

Wicker led the way out of the Serpent’s Keep caves, following the well-worn trail as it snaked down the mountainside. Once they reached the foot of the mountain, where the trail branched off and dissipated into the brush, November took the lead with her hunter’s nose to guide them. Even though the trail they followed wasn’t old, it was surprisingly hard to follow as it meandered around rocks, across rivers, and through abandoned dens. The moon had reached its peak by the time they glimpsed the pack’s senior scout ahead. 

Archer had his head bowed to drink from a pond. Here, at the edge of the swamp, paws sank easily into soft ground and the air moved thick through tired lungs. Wicker gave November a nod and prowled forwards. “Archer.”

The scout whipped around, water flicking off of his muzzle. He didn’t seem surprised to see his King. “Wicker,” Archer called back, “what brings you out here?” 

“There’s something we have to discuss.” 

“Surely it can wait until the morning? We’d be gator bait if we sat and chewed the fat here.”

“It won’t take long. It looks like you’ve outgrown our humble little pack.”

Archer laughed. “Little? You’ve easily tripled it since we met! Remember that? Back when it was you, me, November, Echo, and Clover?” 

“Then maybe we’ve outgrown you,” Wicker snapped. Archer’s smile vanished. He may have even looked genuinely hurt, but Wicker hardly cared about his feelings now. “Either way, I think your time here is up.” 

“Are you that upset about the elk carcass? I promise it won’t happen again.” Archer tipped his head. 

“It won’t. You’re not welcome back within Serpent’s keep.” Right on cue, Wicker’s gaze found November’s as she came stalking into the clearing behind Archer. Her soft growl caught his attention and he spun around. 

Archer was quiet for a while. “Is this what it’s come to?” His voice was soft.  “Are you going to drive me out by force? Does your hunger for power have its teeth this tight around your throat?” Wicker surged forward and snapped his teeth where Archer’s ear had been a moment before. 

“Want to find out?” November challenged. Wicker braced for a fight, digging his claws into the earth and sucking in the dense, oppressive air. 

“...If this is what you wish,” Archer conceded. Wicker’s ears flicked forwards. He had been so sure that Archer would put up a fight--and outnumbered as he may be, it would have been a good one. “Thanks for… well, some things. It was never a permanent deal anyway.” Archer gazed out across the swamp before he turned and trudged deeper into the mud. “I meant what I said, by the way. Power can strangle all the same as a hunter’s jaws.” 

As he disappeared into the cover of night, November stepped closer to Wicker and murmured, “I always thought he talked too much.” Wicker huffed in response and turned back towards Serpent’s Keep territory without a word.

♖ Pine

Wicker felt the eyes on the scruff of his neck long before he could see them. Whoever had been following him through the forest hadn't been subtle--the lack of birdsong, the crunch of twigs, a stray breeze carrying an unfamiliar scent all betrayed the visitor's presence. Wicker pretended not to notice for a while. He expected that they would make themselves known soon enough--yet, as the sun sank in the sky, annoyance scratched at the back of his mind. Was this wolf just going to follow him all day?

"Do I have a secret admirer?" He asked the open air. No response. "Nothing to say? Perhaps I should drag you out of those bushes and teach you some manners." That got his stalker's attention. A shadow crawled forwards from the bushes. Their head was dipped low, but their eyes flashed in defiance.

"You're the alpha, right? From the mountain pack?" The adolescent's voice betrayed his age. 

"King," Wicker corrected.

"Oh.." The young wolf edged further from the shadows and straightened up, sucking in a long breath. "King. Let me join your pack." 

Wicker regarded the wolf. He tried his best to seem confident, head now held high and chest puffed out. Determination gleamed in his eyes, yet his gaze faltered when Wicker met it. The adolescent's pelt was ragged as if he had been wandering for days with hardly a decent meal. "What's your name?" Wicker eventually asked.

"Uh. Pine."

"Pine, walk with me."

```

Pine could barely sleep that night. It had been months since he had first met Wicker in the woods--so many months, in fact, that Pine was hardly an adolescent anymore. He had grown to be one of the larger wolves of the pack, and with the rising sun, he would be welcomed as a fully-fledged Scout. 

Scout. The word rang in his ears. It would be a good life, one dedicated to exploration and discovery. Every day something new to see. Yet, something about it left a hollowness in his chest like a meal that didn't quite satisfy. Don't be ungrateful, he told himself for the hundredth time. You should be happy to have any role at all. While Pine had grown to a healthy weight again with Serpent's Keep pack, he easily remembered the hunger he felt when he was on his own. 

But why had he struck out on his own like that? Why had he decided to leave his own pack and risk starvation? To become a mere scout, one of the lowest ranking members within Serpent's Keep? He was tired of being treated like a pup who needed to be taken care of. He wanted to be the protector for once in his life, not the protected. Otherwise, he might as well stay in the pup's den with Clover forever.

He was already on his feet and heading out of the pup's den by the time he decided to talk to King Wicker. By any means necessary, he would convince the King to accept him as a hunter.

♖ Introduction \\ Fox

"What makes you think I'd let a runt like you join the pack?" Wicker teased the young pup.
"I'm not a runt!" Fox barked indignantly. "I'm the smartest and fastest of all my siblings." She stood as tall as she could so that her ears were almost tall enough to brush Wicker's chin.
"Prove it, then!" Wicker challenged. He scuffed her ear with a paw and took off running, tossing a smile over his shoulder as he went. Fox yelped and tore off after him. She dug her paws into the earth and imagined herself barreling forwards at top speed, the fastest wolf on this side of the mountains! She could catch up easily and show this wolf who the runt was.
Of course, when Fox lunged at Wicker, he had slowed to barely a trot. The pup hardly noticed, all fur and claws as she took down her play-pretend prey. The two of them rolled through the dirt until Fox finally declared herself triumphant, standing tall over the vanquished king.
"Well, then, since you won I suppose I'll have to let you into the pack," Wicker said as he got to his paws again and shook the dirt from his fur. Fox yelped with joy and raced ahead.
"I'm going to be the best hunter ever!
~~~
Fox had run fearlessly through the mountains, leaped tirelessly over the boulders, and chased excitedly after every rabbit she came across until she reached the edge of the caves. Here, face to face with her new home and pack, her white-tipped paws suddenly got cold.
"What's the matter?" Wicker asked as he stopped next to her. 
"It's bigger than I thought it would be," she replied, craning her neck to take in the soaring ceiling. Wicker laughed and stepped inside. 
"Come, let me show you where you'll be staying."
The pup stuck by him like a tawny shadow as he led the way through the cave. Wolves lounging in the clearing raised their heads curiously as they passed, each looking bigger than the next to Fox. Their tongues lolled, teeth shining... Stories of wolves who ate pups whirled through her mind. She never believed those stories in the safety of her parents' pack, but in this strange place where shadows danced along the walls, anything seemed possible. 
"This is Clover." Wicker's voice cut through Fox's daydreaming. He nodded to a gray wolf who smelled of forest and birds' feathers. Clover smiled at Fox and lowered her head to the pup's height. 
"Nice to meet you. I heard you've traveled an awfully long way to be here," Clover said.
Fox wrestled with her desire to run and hide. She looked into Wicker's eyes, searching for whatever nasty glint pup-eaters must have there. When she found nothing but reassurance and a gentle smile, she stepped out of the king's shadow. "Yeah, kinda, but my paws don't hurt or anything!" she assured Clover. 
"Your name?" Wicker prompted.
"Oh, I'm Fox.
"Fox," Clover echoed. "That's a nice name! Would you like to meet the other pups? I'm sure you'll be very good friends."
Other pups? Fox tilted her head, peering through the adults' legs to see further into the caves. Sure enough, three sets of curious eyes peered back at her. Two pups with similar pale coats stood shoulder-to-shoulder while a third, darker colored pup ducked behind a boulder when he made eye contact with Fox. She trotted right past Clover and Wicker to introduce herself. "Hi, I'm Fox! What are your names?" 
"Ash," the dappled white pup responded. She looked to her sister, but the lighter pup stayed quiet and kept her gaze fixed on Fox. 
When her sister nudged her, the quiet pup finally spoke up. "I'm Ghost." She was pretty quiet, but Fox hardly minded--she had shy friends like this in her old pack. Like her old pupsitter said, you just have to get to know some wolves a little better first. It doesn't mean they don't want to be friends.
"She's not normally this shy," Ash informed Fox. "I think you scare her."
"She does not! Hemlock's the one who's scared!" Ghost retaliated. Judging from the look of annoyance on the distant, third pup's face, he didn't appreciate being dragged into this.
"Be nice, now," Clover chimed in as she padded over. "Meeting new wolves can be scary sometimes. Nothing helps ease the nerves like a good bite of beaver, though, hmm?"
Ash and Ghost yelped at the mention of food and ran towards the entrance of the cave, Hemlock in close pursuit. Wicker stepped out of the way just in time to avoid three furballs crashing into his legs.
"Are you coming, Fox?" He stopped just long enough to glance over his shoulder at her. Fox grinned and sprinted after the other pups. She hardly knew where she was going, but she was certain she'd make it there first.

♗ Introduction \\ Ghost

It was unusual that King Wicker stopped by the pups' den. So unusual, Ghost thought, that she hardly believed he was her dad. Sure, he had the same grey-and-white fur as her sister, Ash, but he didn't live here like their mom did. He didn't visit every day like mom did, bearing gifts of elk ears and bobcat claws. Snake's fangs (she thought with a giggle of glee at the curse), he wasn't even that nice to them!
So why would he want to bring even more pups into the pack?
Wicker had shared the news with them earlier that morning. He was heading out to far-away lands to meet a new pup who would join the pack. "We need lots of strong pups so they can grow up and become great hunters for the pack," He said.
"I'm already the strongest," Ash whined.
"No way, you're weak as a worm! I'm the strongest," Ghost shot back, curling her lip like she'd seen the adults do when they fight over food.
"All right, all right," Wicker laughed, nudging both pups with his nose. "You're both very strong. But wouldn't you like a new friend?"
That piqued their interest. Besides them, Hemlock was the only other pup, but he didn't like the rough games that the sisters did. All the other pups were older and they shooed Ghost and Ash away when they brought them bones and tried to pounce on their tails.
After Wicker left to bring back their new denmate, Ghost couldn't get the new pup off of her mind. She tried to ask Ash what she thought their new friend would be like while they kicked a pebble back and forth, but Ash seemed to already be losing interest. Ghost eventually resigned herself to daydreaming on her own while Ash napped off the excitement of the morning.
The sun was low in the sky when an unfamiliar scent drifted through the den. Ghost snapped to attention and scampered to the edge of the pup's den to peer out at the visitor. The new pup's eyes caught Ghost's attention first, as blue as ice and as piercing as thorns. Ghost ducked out of sight again and ran straight into her sister.
"Ouch!" Ash squeaked. She bared her teeth at Ghost in annoyance before shoving past to get a look for herself. "Is the new pup here?"
"What does she look like?" Hemlock whispered as he crept from the shadows to stand at Ash's shoulder. Ghost frowned in frustration that her spot had become so crowded all of a sudden. Before she could voice her feelings, however, her mother intercepted.
"Come on, back inside. Give her time on her own to adjust," Clover cooed as she swept the pups deeper into the den. The three of them whispered amongst themselves deeper inside the cave, sharing their excitement and worry alike.
Clover turned back to the entrance of the den to greet Wicker and the new pup. As they exchanged introductions, Ghost studied their new denmate. She was nervous at first, but brightened up with a simple nod from Wicker. 
"What's her name? What did she say?" Hemlock whispered.
"I think her name is Fox," Ghost replied.
"Fox? She does kinda looks like one. Are you sure she's really a wolf?"
"Of course she is, dummy! Wicker wouldn't let a real fox into the pack!"
"Shh! She's coming over!"
Ghost startled when she realized Ash was right, Fox was bounding towards the trio. "Hi, I'm Fox! What are your names?" She beamed. The genuine excitement was infectious--Ghost heard her heartbeat echo in her ears.
"Ash." After a silence, Ghost felt Ash's shoulder bump hers. 
"I'm Ghost," she added in a voice that was much less sure.
"She's not normally this shy. I think you scare her."
"She does not!" Ghost bristled. "Hemlock's the one who's scared!" She whipped around to look at him and he met her with a displeased frown.
Clover, as per usual, was way ahead of the pups and their antics. "Be nice, now," she chimed in as she padded over. "Meeting new wolves can be scary sometimes. Nothing helps ease the nerves like a good bite of beaver though, hmm?" Ghost felt Ash leap forwards next to her and she jumped at the chance to race her sister to their meal. Not even a new denmate could get in the way of their rivalry. Hemlock followed closely, snapping his teeth playfully at their heels.
However, it was not Ash or Hemlock who Ghost had to compete with, but Fox. A streak of red flashed past the two, her head tucked down like she was preparing to burst through the cave walls. Ghost yelped in surprise, taken back for only a moment before she redoubled her racing efforts. "I win!" Fox declared as she pounced on the beaver November had been dragging into the center of the cave.
"Woah!" November gasped and jumped out of the way as Fox's pursuers all threw themselves at her in one big dogpile. Ghost couldn't help but laugh as she collapsed into the whirlwind of teeth and fur, nipping at any stray paws or ears she could reach. She could already tell that Fox was going to fit in perfectly--they'd be the best of friends.