Callum

Callum, the oldest of three, spent many moons as the guardian of his two younger siblings - Castellan and Seneca. His father, Beorlin, was a strict leader and an even stricter father. Often times Beorlin tasked Callum with both Pupsitting, Scouting, and Hunting. Oh, how he resented his father for tasking him like a beast of burden.

"Callum," Beorlin grumbled. His sudden appearance startled Calllum out of his thoughts. Moonlight peered through the large thunderheads above, casting ethereal light across them both. "Are you well?"

The question caught Callum off guard. It was unlike his father to ask questions like these. "Father-" Callum started and caught himself. He tried again. "Pack Leader, it is good to see you. How fare you this eve?"

His father remained quiet for a long while before answering. "Callum, the air is changing. Leaves are beginning to fall and crumble. I hope you know, my favored son, that all I have done has always been for you, to mold you into a strong, capable wolf." Beorlin's cool gray eyes met Callum's. The uncharacteristic softness stunned Callum into silence. Beorlin continued. "There will come a time - sooner rather than later, I fear - that you must take your siblings and run."

Callum's sense returned lightning fast. Unease prickled at this paws, and the poisonous rage came flooding back. Of course, kind words from Father were only meant for more tasks, more effort Father would never be proud of.

"Is it war? Is it humans? Should I prepare the stocks for a long winter?" He stilled himself and waited, but his father merely softened his gaze, offered a rare affectionate shoulder bump, and padded silently back to their den.

Soon after Callum's memory, the pack met ruin. A war had been waged and a war had been lost, all within a moon cycle. He still remembered the ferocity with which his father fought, the cries of his mother, and most importantly the task he'd been set with.

Amidst gnashing teeth and claws, Callum fought his way to his siblings and urged them into the forest as fast as their feet would carry them. Despite his best efforts, the siblings were separated, lost in the woods as they were forced to split up and fight off enemy pack wolves. Callum ran - fast and hard until his muscles ached and his lungs were on fire. He heard a a twig snap and convinced these were his last moments he looked up into the bright yellow eyes of his final enemy.

Except she stood there, staring at him in confusion. And then she huffed out a snort as if to say, "And who are you?"

Callum's hackles relaxed. She stiffened. Callum snorted. A short duck and weave dance later, and they came to an understanding.

The black wolf in front of him smirked. "My name is Risinka. You look in need of a pack. Care to join mine?"

"Only if you'll allow me to search for my siblings in my off time." Callum conceded, though the rage burned through him. Even in death you ruin me, old man, Callum thought to himself, gritting his fangs.

Risinka only snorted, turned on her haunches and disappeared into the woods. "Well, are you coming or not?" She called from somewhere beyond his sight line.

And that was that.

Two moons later, she returned with a familiar scent...Castellan. Callum's heart swelled at the sight in spite of himself, although he did not show it. Sensing the shift in emotion, Risinka caught his eye and nodded. She disappeared to attend to her other duties and to allow a moment of privacy for the siblings.