IndigoDapples sell

The evening air was quiet except for the rustling of leaves. IndigoDapples sat near the edge of the pack's gathering place, his head slightly tilted as he listened to the others' conversation. He had always preferred the role of an observer, letting his calm and balanced demeanor guide his responses when the time was right.

Tonight, though, he found himself distracted, his thoughts drifting back to the story of how he came to be here. It wasn't a memory he often shared, but it was one that shaped him.

He had been found as a scrawny pup, barely old enough to survive, wandering near the outskirts of the territory. It was Riftbound who had stumbled upon him, standing out against the landscape with his strikingly unique appearance. Riftbound had hesitated for only a moment before taking him back to the pack.

IndigoDapples had been raised with patience and care, though some wolves—like Bear—had questioned his place in the beginning. "He's not one of us," Bear had once grumbled. "What if he's a weakness?"

But Roost, ever the diplomat, had countered. "He's young and adaptable. That's all we need."

IndigoDapples grew into his role, earning respect through his even-handed nature and knack for diffusing tension. When Bear had challenged his loyalty once, IndigoDapples had calmly faced him, refusing to rise to the bait. "I owe this pack everything. That's not up for debate," he had said simply, and Bear had let the matter drop—for now.

As he watched Phantom tonight, something in her posture struck him as off. He couldn't put his paw on it, but her laughter seemed a bit too sharp, her energy forced.

Quietly, he approached her once the others had begun to disperse. "Everything okay?" he asked, his voice steady.

Phantom glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "Why wouldn't it be?"

He didn't press further. "Fair enough," he said, stepping back. "But if it's not, you know where to find me."

Phantom's gaze lingered on him for a moment before she nodded. IndigoDapples turned away, his mind already returning to his quiet observations. There was a weight in her steps, but he knew better than to push too hard.