Goliathus

The pack had gathered in a clearing under the light of the full moon. Pelts bristled with excitement, yips and whines filled the air as they waited. It was the first day of summer, and the energy in the air was palpable- the Festival of Adulation was about to commence, but only once their leader, Dermestid, took the highest position in the clearing. Goliathus was ready. He clutched the lanterns handle between his jaws, determined to howl the loudest, to have his adoration proclaimed above all others. He glanced at his mate, and she met his eyes. She knew what was coming, what she deserved. Dermestid started the howl, and the wolves all hurled their lanterns to the ground. Lightning bugs flooded out, carried to the sky, through the woods and across the lake by the howls of those gathered. They sang about new love, about the brilliance of the sunrise, the rich taste of flesh. Goliathus practically shrieked his adoration for Luna Moth. A rare grin crossed her face, and despite their annoyance, the gathered wolves had a begrudging respect for one so devoted to their mate. --------------------- Despite his reputation as a boisterous, noisy wolf, he had proved invaluable as a hunter. He chased the prey with reckless abandon, a mad look in his eyes. His slavering maw snapped at the heels of their prey, he snarled and barked like a wolf possessed and their unlucky quarry would be chased straight into their trap.