Talkian

The first leader of the Farlands Pack.

Imma be sad when baby boy goes. Pour one out to him frfr

10/23/2024 is the day I'm writing this. Something to look back on and remember when eventually visit him on the pack dynasty.

Talkian has been leading the Farlands Pack since 2020-10-19 06:48:30.

I only recently returned and I remember why I originally stopped playing. I knew eventually his time would come to an end. In a sentimental way, I wasn't ready. He was my first wolf alongside Ruka and he was something I looked forward to during quarantine.

I was new to this, I didn't make him the most prettiest wolf or even filled all his marking slots, I never tried to get him to level 20. Even now, I'm trying to spread his lineage, hoping his bloodline will reach others and spread throughout the generations. I should've focused on that when he was 3 years old, or even 5 years old. I didn't but now I am.

I will write some lore to him when his time finally comes. But for now as the user of this profile and owner of this wolf, I want to write something to look back and remember on. He wasn't great quality, he wasn't the most attractive, he wasn't maxed out, but he's still my original Farland wolf.

One of his and Ruka's sons will take over not as Pack Leader but as a King when his time finally comes.


I tried using the vigor to make him younger but I should accept the fact he's getting older and will die soon.



Talkian was able to complete his final event, Halloween Spectacle "Ashen Oath".

He dies tomorrow on 11/7/2024 :(
He had a good run. Definitely longer than the wolves of his time.

Goodbye, Talkian. 21:31, logging off.


Wolf created on 2020-10-19 06:48:29
Wolf died on 2024-11-8 05:15:32

Pain, cold, disappeared with one last breath. When he shifted, his body felt lighter than it had been in seasons. The bright light, brighter than the sun made it hard for him to open his eyes and get a look at his surroundings. He cracked open an eye, and when he did, he sharply inhaled from his nose.

He stared at blue eyes, years worth of wisdom stored in the great depths of her irises and the indescribable joy of a pup. Behind, former friends, family, and packmates joyously watched and wagged their tails.

His voice warbled as words tried and tried to escape him. She shushed him with the soft tone of a mother and leant down to give tender licks on the top of his head. Warm and gentle, everything she was to him.

The words were clear in his mind, and his tongue obeyed in clear conscious. In a low, quiet voice, afraid to break the silence, he spoke,

"I am home."