A Leader's Questions...

Trek had been silent up until he was asked a question. With so many pack leaders about, he had resolved himself to not speak unless he had been asked a question--the other three wolves of the Solar Court had spoken for him. Anaba was a far better speaker than he. He eyed up the she-wolf who had answered the question. She seemed almost afraid of her own discipline. Intruiging. 

"We do not" the sleek wolf murmured. The slight breeze ruffled the feathers that had been carefully tucked into his fur. Trek was by no means a particularly large or stately wolf, but hopefully, he would gain some respect for Apricus. "However, the four of us that stand before you today make up the Solar Court, and together we bring balance to the lands of the sun." It wasn't hard to tell the Court members traveled together, with Anaba and Coop carrying the feathers and paint of the Court. Chickadee had refused to don the feathers, but his brother Trek had convinced the herbalist to at the very least distinguish himself with the red paint. 

"Do you have tradition you follow regarding the names of your packmembers?"

Stonestar's ears pricked at the question.

"Yes, we do. When a pup is born and he's called pine, for example, his name is pinepup. When he reaches 6 moons and becomes an apprentice, his name changes to pinepaw, and when he is two solar cycles old, his name changes again, and his name will stay like that until he joins the spirits or until he becomes leader of our pack. In that case his name would be Pinestar."

She sighed, happy and proud she had the chance to share the naming traditions of her pack.

"This way of naming has been in our pack since the first leader, Stormstar, founder of our pack implanted it, and we are proud of the good use we have given it". "Anyways", -She said, turning to a wolf that was lying next to a patch of ivy- "How do you mourn your leaders? Do you honor them in any way or do you just bury them?"

With that, the leader of Stormpack sat down, gazing intently at the wolf.

Daybreak sat up, still-overwhelmed but glad to find a question she knew the answer to already.

”Up as far North as we, the ground is hard and unyielding - where it is even exposed to us. As such, traditional burials and other death rites are... more than difficult. My pack’s previous leaders were new to the lands and made do. I have heard that at the end of their lives they simply continued their great journey North, beyond the point where a pack can no longer survive.” 

She pauses, and then flinches once realizing the implication.

“Ah. In less ceremonious terms, I assume they found a nice hill to die on, far enough away from our camp. They were all mated to each other, and from what the last surviving leader told me they agreed to join each other whenever their time came. They were mourned by their kin, and desired nothing more.”

Daybreak goes quiet for a moment, seemingly judging her next words. “Hmm, what is your pack’s system of inheritance? Not just for the leaders, but how do you decide the head hunters, healers, and other such positions?”

Ebony jumped, she wasn't expecting her turn to come so suddenly. Her eyes seemed to unintentionally gaze upwards while she thought.

"It's natural. If they work well with others and are a great commander or such, they may become a head hunter, or if they're calming, attentive, and/or wise, they might become a healer. Pupsitters are recent mothers, and scouts are any extras without a role."

She yawned and glanced around for a water pool so she could head there once done. Her mouth felt so dry, it was nearly unbearable.

Ebony turned to a leader nearest her.

"How do you decide whether you'll keep a wolf or not? Is it if they have great or bad stats, or is it because of unique or bland patterns? Of course, it's not only limited to those ways.. so, how do you decide?"

Queen Rukkaua gracefully stepped forward, a blank look on her face as she yawned, her boredom apparent. Her tail curled for a few moments before she she-wolf raised her voice to speak. "First and foremost, every mother knows that only half of the pups they birth will remain in the pack, baring any pup deaths. " She started, as she sat down.

"A mother that has a litter of four will be allowed to keep two. The color of the pup's base is taken in first. If the base is the second or third tier, then regardless of stats and markings, they are kept." Rukkaua continued, "If they have a tier-one base, then we go off of the number of markings and the rarity of markings. After that, it's stats alone."

The she-wolf shook out her fur then turned her gaze to another. "What is the worst betrayal that you can imagine? To you personally, or to your pack, whichever you are willing to share."

Kiyaya stepped up onto the stone, glancing around at the other lead wolves. "Well... the worst betrayal a wolf in my pack could commit would be killing their mate. We bond for life, and wolves often take years to even consider becoming bonded to another. To kill a mate would be unthinkable- they're supposed to be the wolf you love the most, the wolf you're ready to spend your entire life with."

She started to back away, but not before asking her own question. "Do your wolves decorate themselves with body paints or jewelry? If so, what's the symbolism behind wearing it?"

Chinook chuckled a little before speaking.

"Well, my pack believes in bird deities and feathers, as ridiculous as it sounds, so those who are particularly knowledgeable or close to them tend to wear feather adornments. The type and color of the feathers usually reflect something about the wolf, like what they want to act like, what they enjoy, maybe even their actual personality. Often, it means which deity they are close to, but not much knowledge about the bird deities is passed down to the average packmate, so the adornments are still not common."

Chinook grinned at another wolf. "So, does your pack have any cryptids? Specifically, some sort of monster whose existence isn't entirely proven?"

Kiyaya grinned, happy to be noticed by a different wolf. "Actually, yes we do! His name is 'the Good Boy'. He used to be a loyal human companion of some sort, a 'dog'. The human got lost and died, but the Good Boy being so loyal didn't leave his side until he died too. Now his spirit wanders the mountains, bringing home lost wolves and protecting pups. Some hunters have claimed they've seen him, but he's now mostly just a story to tell nervous pups who think they're going to get lost."

She nodded to another wolf. "How large does your pack tend to be? Is it large and sprawling, or a tight-knit group like mine?"

Alía look at the wolf and smiles  “ my pack are like 12 wolves if not counting pups then we are 18 for now, really we have a problem with one of my wolves a years back and the tough winters don’t really help “

alia looked another wolf curiously “ do your pack had problems with pups or diseases¿” 

Inen nods his head and steps forward, "Many problems with pups, we have 11 of them running rampant right now."

He gave a huff and added, "We haven't had many problems with illnesses though. Our lovely medic has been making sure of that." 

His tail wags as he steps back.

"What kind of dangers does your pack face?"