Aderyn ar Adenydd Marw

With Aderyn ar Adenydd Marw's birth, the fall of the pack was completed. It seemed the gods had abandoned them completely now. phrog was merely whispers on Melys a Melysach's twisting tongues, a wisp only present for the merging of worlds for what they called Coigreach. Aderyn Mewn Cyffion had heralded this new age of brutality, with the mutations on her body betraying how they had strayed so violently from the divine. When Aderyn ar Adenydd Marw was born, with the hereditary dust eyes but blood-red markings and a dark mutation, her mother knew who her heir would be.

Their line lost their wings with Aderyn ar Adenydd Marw, but gained a matriarch who wasn't afraid to do what needed to be done to ensure their success. She was born in the glacier and of all the pups born there, next to none survived; with the low litter sizes, this was a culling of the pack in an entirely natural way. The pack had shifted having only two hunting teams, their only herbalist, and minimal pack members. And they thrived.

When Adenydd aged from pup, to adolescent, to adult, her mother gifted her the regalia she had kept stored for her heir. Adorned in smoky quartz, the currency that allowed the pack to receive some spoils for their sacrifices during this 'Coigreach', Adenydd took to the role of a scout. Soft paw pads hardened and harshened, tracking through freezing cold, pine needles, mountain rocks to prairie grass. From the rivers of the woodlands to the whispering grasslands, Adenydd spent so much time away from the pack they often thought she'd succumbed to the harsh desert, the humid swap. But no. She tracked her way through the biomes and held herself steady in the exploration of the vicious rainforest.

It was there that she gained her scars. One eye was almost blotted out, the dried blood crusting over it when she returned to the glacier, the pelt of a red wolf almost twice her size held dear in her jaws betraying what she had done. But the pack celebrated. Their next leader showed no fear in such situations and was more than prepared to find her way though even the harshest environments to return to her pack. The gleam in her right eye is the only thing that hints to her pride, nearing vanity, for how her pack reveres her.

This red wolf pelt is evident to only her closest companions. It was her first trophy and what she's perhaps the most proud of. It sits in the back of her den, just about covered with the white wolf pelts and timber pelts of her other kills, but it's there. It's to this long-dead beast she talks to. No one knows quite why and perhaps no one ever will. Not her mother, not her pupsitter, not the other scouts.

It's only one of the many mysteries that surround the wolf.

These events occurred from the first time she went scouting at only a year old until just three months after. Once that time had passed and she had determined herself well-versed in the strength of the rainforest, she fell back to the biome of her home. Knowledge lurked in every crevice, every snowdrop, every melting icicle and she absorbed every drop. This is where the first part of her story ends, where she settles into the life of scout and heir. Time would tell what she would bring around next.


Non-Lore InformationYour chosen wolf howls with a deep, somber rasp. Spooky. Go and see heir (#11474794)! - added Henna Wraith, Slot 4, 100%