Boy howdy is this post kinda late. Year six timeline for The Sanctuary Pack is now complete! Another turbulent year for Sanctuary's wolves.
Misc notes under the cut:
-Verand and Kit's decision to go back to Sanctuary is 100% motivated by a desire to redeem themselves, but Uno (rightly) worries that they're just being reckless in a different direction now, and might bring humans back to the pack's new hiding place, too.
-Uno discovers Kit and Verand's plan because Radun snitches; she's glad that Verand and her made up, but suspicious about the timing of the conversation.
-Rover and Maize have a close but somewhat tense relationship. Rover, too frail to really be scouting any more, understands some of Maize's frustration with being too physically weak to have 'a job' in the pack, though the two often butt heads (they're both strong-willed, stubborn wolves, and Rover is often condescending or awkward with Maize).
-Maize is not suited to being a pupsitter, and does not enjoy it. She's been shuttled into the role because she's not really capable of hunting, scouting, or foraging, but it's an awful fit for her. Finch, her father and a longtime pupsitter, tries to help reconcile her to the role, but the two usually just end up fighting.
-Dace and Eight are split up when the pack divides into groups, and Dace is like unbearably mopey about it even though they're not technically mates (with her friends-- as a leader she does her best to put on a serious, untroubled front).
-Dace and Verand become close friends, Dace taking on something of an older sibling or mentor role. She knows some of what Verand is feeling right now, trying so hard to prove herself.
-Jumper is very nice but kind of useless. He agrees to help with hunting but he's almost comically bad at it-- and similarly bad at scouting, foraging, and pupsitting. Everyone's baffled by him, wondering how he got so big and survived so long as a loner when he's this bad at everything.
-Cairn and Carnassial, tossed into the same splinter-group, become good friends, both of them having a slightly offputting reputation that drives Carnassial to take Cairn under her wing.
A story from year seven. After being scattered in the escape from human hunters, the pack is finally ready to go back home. Chicory is reunited with a figure from her past.
"And she still had the gun- I guess I was pretty worried about that- but Uno had the idea to--"
Chicory raises her muzzle, cutting Verand short. "You're limping again."
And Verand's head hunches into an expression so obviously and immediately guilty that Chicory has to bite back a laugh, fighting to keep her face stern. "I've been doing the stretches you told me, you can ask Kit--"
"Like he'd tell me the truth." Chicory snorts. "Slow down-- you don't need to go leaping ten strides ahead. The pack'll hardly leave without us."
"But--" Verand blows out a sigh. "They're just ahead, Chicory. And I swear it isn't sore at all!" She lifts the bad leg to demonstrate, stretching it out ahead in an exaggerated step.
"Hm," Chicory says.
This time, she has to hide a frown.
Verand's range of motion is pretty bad; no sign of stiffness or pain in her body language, but she can't get the leg very high off the ground. Probably she'll be limping on it the rest of her life.
"Fine. Go on then."
And Verand straightens at once, surprise and delight all over her face her face, open and obvious as tansy in bloom.
"It's this way!" She calls, already disappearing through the trees. Her tail wags behind her like a flag, waving them on.
She's a good kid. And she'll be struggling with that leg the rest of her life. Because Chicory hadn't kept her back when she should have. Because she hadn’t been nearly the doctor she should have been.
Probably get worse when she's older, too, she thinks, bitter, and pads on after Verand.
The Sanctuary Pack has been almost a year without a home, scattered wide across unfamiliar territory, fleeing for their lives through baking summer, muddy fall, bitter winter.
And now the spring unfurls before them, thin and cold, with snow still clinging stubborn in the shade.
So their territory is safe again. So they'll all be reunited. So she'll see Radun, again.
Chicory snorts. Looks up. The sky, a chilly dove's-wing gray, is threatening rain.
And wouldn't that be just her luck.
"Verand!"
A voice through the trees- high and clear, Chicory can't quite place it- and Verand, ahead of her, gives a joyful bark and bounds forward, oblivious to Chicory's censure.
She hurtles into a dark, slim wolf- Uno, it must be- and the two go rolling head-over-hocks through the muddy undergrowth, tails wagging fit to stir up a storm.
The wind, shifting, carries the mingled scents of many wolves towards them; the pack, at last.
Chicory lifts her nose, testing the air; no hint of sickness she can detect. No stink of infection, no rotting sweetness.
"Chicory." A low voice-- she turns, and Kit- a big, square young wolf- pads up to stand beside her.
"Yes?"
"Is everyone... alright? In your group?" Something hangs a little sad and serious hanging around his eyes, the way mist will cling to water.
"They'll take some feeding up." Chicory shrugs. "But well enough, I guess. Considering."
"That's good." His eyes keep sliding away from Chicory's, watching his friends play sidelong, so obviously hangdog it's nearly literal, his head drooping low.
Chicory softens- just a little, mind you- and gestures towards Verand and Uno. "Pull those two wolverines apart, would you? I'm sure I can find my own way."
He doesn't need much more convincing. As Chicory walks on, his voice joins theirs; a low and rumbling counterpoint, and warm as the thaw.
Chicory fluffs her fur against the wind, scowling. If the thaw ever comes.
She picks her way onwards, cold mud squelching unpleasantly between her toes.
Is thinking, they better have picked a drier spot to camp, when she comes through a break in the trees, and there is all of Sanctuary, gathered up and waiting.
Finch is fussing over the pups, Maize laid out in a sunbeam watching him, panting a little in that wheezy, painful way- can't Eight look after her patients when Chicory isn't around?- and a couple of scouts are straggling in: Dace and Rover, muddy but apparently satisfied.
Rover splits off immediately, to look for Seven, the two old wolves gray around their muzzles, speaking too low for Chicory to hear above the general babble of voices, and Chicory watches them-- watches all of them-- and feels some foolish, unwanted warmth bubbling up like water in a hot spring, something nearly scalding, too strong, too hot to hold in her, too much--
And there is Radun, too, looking up, the first wolf out of all of them to notice Chicory standing there.
And she is just-- standing there. Rooted to the spot by that wave of feeling, blindsided, just by seeing all of them, together and safe again. She’s going soft, probably. Can’t bring herself to care too much.
So she only stands and watches as Radun gets up, and walks across the clearing to greet her.
"Chicory. You look very well." Her voice musical and strangely deep, that odd formality. When she dips her head, low, in greeting, even their poor thin sun cannot help but catch the highlights of her rich, golden fur.
Chicory clears her throat, and clears it again. "You too," she says, stiff. "It's-- good to see you again. Been a while."
Radun straightens. "It has." A pause. "Is Verand--"
Of course-- that's why she'd come up to say hello. Chicory shakes herself, feeling foolish.
"Right behind me. Got caught up with Kit and Uno."
"I see." A pause. Radun shifts from paw to paw, evidently restless. "And is she--"
"She's alright. Favouring the leg a little, is all." I wish I had better news to give you.
"Good. That's good to hear." She clears her throat. Looks over Chicory's shoulder, something stiff in her face, her posture. "I-- thank you very much for indulging my worry. It means a great deal."
"Not a problem." Chicory fights back the horrible honeycomb-feeling bubbling up in her chest, airy and stinging and sweet at her words.
She's only being polite, she's always polite.
They hesitate for another moment, Radun still not quite meeting Chicory's eyes. Watching for her sister, probably, but too polite to go.
"I should go check in with Dace," Chicory should say. Give her an excuse.
Says, instead, "how've you been keeping, then?"
And Radun looks up, almost startled, right at Chicory, at last, something deep and warm in her tawny eyes, something almost…
"I've been well," she says, "very well, under the circumstances. Thank you. I--"
And Chicory looks away, unable to bear it, looks past Radun's shoulder just to-- settle her nerves, her damn idiot nerves, getting excited over nothing--
And all the heat goes out of the world, just like that. Like the sun's been swallowed up, like the seasons are turning backwards.
Eight is chatting with a patient, in the shadow of an oak; she hadn't seen them, when she'd first arrived, tucked away in the shade. And her patient-- a newcomer. Not of The Pack-- a gray wolf, huge out of all proportion, built broad and strong, and his eyes glitter with a sort of watchful, foxlike intelligence.
Chicory knows him, immediately.
Something must show on her face-- Radun ducks her head again. "My apologies. I've taken up too much of your time."
"No," Chicory starts to say, don't worry about it, no, you haven't, but she's turning already, and leaving Chicory with--
With him.
Jumps For Clouds watches Radun as she passes. Looks back along her path to spot Chicory, and the thoughts flicker, visibly, across his narrow face; surprise, at first, with understanding coming snapping at its heels.
He turns, and says something in Eight's ear. She looks up, surprised.
Together, they get up, and start towards her.
Chicory skirts the edge of the camp to meet them. Wants this conversation happening as far from the rest of the pack as possible. If her secrets must come out-- well. She supposes they'll all learn of it, eventually. Probably foolish, trying to draw it out.
She ducks her head away, as Eight and Jumper get near, some great weight pulling her down towards the earth.
"Chicory!" Eight says, "I'm glad to see you back. This is--"
"Jumps For Clouds," Jumper says, smoothly. "But you can call me Jumper. A pleasure."
Chicory looks up, slowly. "--Chicory," she says. "It's-- nice to meet you."
He nods, amiably, face open and friendly. "Now-- I understand you're this pack's other healer?"
"I am." No sense denying it. But telling him anything makes Chicory's fur itch. He remembers her-- he must remember her. He's just got some... angle, is what it is.
He'd always had some sort of angle.
"I thought so. You know, you just seem like a healer to me. Even kinda look like one I used to know."
"I guess there's sort of a-- common look," Eight offers, a note of uncertainty creeping into her voice.
"Sure," Chicory says, stiff. "It's the hunchback."
Jumper laughs, over-loud. "Well, see, I knew someone in this pack had to have a sense of humour! Listen--" he turns to Eight, apologetic. "Listen, do you mind if I have her take a look? I really do feel--"
Eight stiffens, a little, but nods. "It can never hurt to get a second opinion."
"I thank you." Jumper dips his head. "Listen- Chicory, was it? Chicory, I swear I'm feeling under the weather, but the lovely miss Eight here says she can't find anything wrong. Would you mind..."
"Of course not." The words are stiff in her mouth, bitter. "Eight, I can take it from here."
Eight hesitates, frowning. "Are you sure? I have his history, I can--"
"I can ask him." Chicory looks over her shoulder-- back towards Dace, settling down to a meal. "I'm sure you've got other things to do."
Eight follows her eyes, visibly brightens. "Well," she says, with badly-feigned reluctance."If you're really sure--"
And at Chicory's nod, she sets off towards Dace at a barely-restrained trot, affection coming off her so palpable you could nearly see it.
Chicory watches her go, a bitter taste in her mouth.
"Well, who'd've thought you'd learn to manage people," Jumper says, voice light. "Wasn't the most subtle job I've ever seen, but--"
Chicory looks at him. "Jumper."
He tips his head in greeting. "Chews on Chicory," he says. "Fancy finding you here." Something thoughtful in his tone.
"What do you want?"
"Want?" He looks hurt. "Shelter, Chicory, a little help! You know, my own pack's fallen to war. Horrible tragedy."
"It has?" Chicory blinks. So the Pack At High Mountain was gone. "I had no idea--"
"Oh,” Jumper says, smooth as ice. “ I think you had some.”
Chicory looks at him. Feels a sort of frost creeping over her, inexorable, cold vertebrae-by-vertebrae along her spine.
"Of course," he goes on, "I might be mistaken. A common look, right? I might never have met you at all, before today."
Chicory doesn't respond. Doesn't know how to.
The pack had fallen-- how many wolves lost to the fighting, then? How many that she might have saved, if she were there?
"Listen, all I'm asking is a little-- a little healing. Your hunter, Rime, she wants me out with her team, but I'm sure I'm feeling under the weather. I should be getting my beauty rest, not getting myself all-- worn out and cut up hunting. Wouldn't you agree?"
Chicory meets his eyes, for a long moment. A more evidently strong, healthy young wolf she's never seen.
As if from an enormous distance, the warm, familiar sounds of the pack filter towards them-- the excited chatter of the puppies, the easy ribbing of a group of hunters setting out. How long has she been with this pack-- two years, three?
Good years-- good wolves.
"I just need the good opinion of a healer," Jumper says. "That's all."
Chicory ducks her head, guilt in her heavy as a stone.
Personality: Verand can hardly remember her young puphood at the Sea Pack; her stronger childhood memories all come from her journey with Radun. Though in some ways scarred by her difficult young life, Radun shielded Verand from many of the troubles she would have faced, and Verand grew to have a love for adventure and the unknown. She’s settling in at Sanctuary much better than her sister, making friends amoung the young wolves and being groomed for an apprenticeship under Scout Rover.
Naming Conventions: Environment. Pups in the Sea Pack are named after an element of the place they were born, and given common-use nicknames derived from these. These nicknames follow shared conventions, passed down along matrilineal lines.
Verand’s birth family shares a ‘Nv’ sound in their nicknames, and her mother named her Sand Plover, nicknamed ‘Sanver’. At some point on her journey to Sanctuary, she decided to take the nickname ‘Verand’ instead (Sand Plover), to share her adoptive sister’s ‘Ra’.
Radun and Verand come from the same pack; a group sea-wolves who make their home on a distant shore. The sea pack was very large, and its rules extremely strict, with a rigid hierarchy very different from the Sanctuary wolves’ relaxed way of life.
Only high-ranking wolves were allowed to take mates and have pups. If a low-ranking wolf had an illegal litter, they would be given an ultimatum: abandon the pups, or leave the pack. Verand was the product of one of these illegal matings, and her parents had decided to abandon her, rather than leave the pack they’d known all their lives.
Not yet 6 months old, Verand would likely have died on her own, but a young adult of the sea pack stepped in to help her- Radun, a talented wolf born to a high-ranking family. Everyone expected her to go far; she had the skills and the birth-rank to become one of the pack’s most powerful wolves.
But, for reasons her own, Radun abandoned it all to care for Verand. She went with Verand when the young pup was abandoned, and together the two travelled away from the shores of their birth. After a journey stretching through the vicious winter and chilly spring, Verand and Radun came to Sanctuary, and gratefully accepted Leader Seven’s offer to join the pack.
Safe in her new pack, Verand idolizes Radun, who protected her tirelessly during their long journey to Sanctuary. The two view each other as sisters, having forged an unbreakable bond during their travels.
🐺💀🍋🌰🐾 all for Verand (or someone else if you prefer)
—BlueFox/The LostWood Pack
oh ty! love an excuse to talk abt Verand! (might mix in some answers abt her sister Radun too)
🐺 if your wolf was a different kind of animal, what animal would they be?
time to work out the old daemon assigning muscles I’m tempted to just say ‘a sand plover’ because her full name is Sand Plover but that doesn’t feel quite right tbh! They’re too like-- timid?
I’d say her main traits are that she grew up in a bad environment, travelled far away, and is very adventurous (and currently kind of a troublemaker), so I think she’d be something migratory!
Tentatively (and it has to be tentative bcos otherwise ill be reading wikipedia pages about animals all day trying to get this Perfect lmao) I would say she’d be a caspian seal or california sea lion. They’re both migratory, slightly obnoxious (esp sea lions are often considered a pest or nuisance animal by fishermen), and have that ocean connection which I like since Verand grew up near the ocean, as well as both seals & sea lions having sort of a playful reputation, & she’s definitely got this sort of goofy playful energy when she’s not being a pain in the ass!
💀 what’s your wolf’s greatest fear?
Uhhh it’s hard to say for me bcos Verand is a pretty confident fearless fool RN. I do think she has some fears from her unhappy puphood that she does her best to ignore & kind of stubbornly refuses to acknowledge she even has if that makes sense?
She’s probably deep-down really terrified of being rejected in the sanctuary pack the way she was rejected by her birth pack (I think this is maybe part of her rebelliousness-- like she subconsciously wants to push and push and test to make really sure that the sanctuary pack will keep her around even when she’s acting out).
Out of everything her worst fear is probably losing her sister, though. Radun saved Verand’s life, is her only connection to her birth pack, is her only family, was the only person around for almost all of her childhood-- they’re closer to each other than any one else, and even though they’re fighting RN Verand would just be completely shattered if anything happened to Radun.
Radun’s greatest fear similarly is something happening to Verand, but she’s also much more consciously scared that the sanctuary pack will reject her, or fall apart, or a million other things. I think she’s a bit sort of hyper-vigilant due to the environment she grew up in & just overanalyzes every little thing that happens trying to think out implications and get out ahead of anything going wrong (which served her well in her birth pack, and kinda baffles the sanctuary pack, where words & actions don’t actually tend to have deep hidden meanings & there’s essentially no political scheming).
🍋what’s your wolf’s least favourite thing about themself? their favourite?
I think Verand is pretty self-confident? Which she likes about herself. She likes that she’s adventurous and curious and thinks her big sister is boring for not wanting to explore and take risks the same way she does!
She’s maybe a bit over-eager to please, and is aware of it; like she really wants the other adols to think she’s cool (esp. Kit), and sometimes will do or say something that’s a bit obviously ‘trying too hard’ and be embarrassed about it. She doesn’t like that worm of insecurity that she’s still got in her.
🌰 what does your wolf do for fun?
HM this is actually tricky for me. I’ve been struggling a lot with what Verand and Catfish’s misbehaving actually CONSISTS of because I don’t know what wolves would like. Do for fun?
I think she & Catfish and Uno like just stomp around sanctuary territory a lot at first, just exploring, but once that gets ‘boring’ for them I’m not sure what they’d do! play pranks for sure, probably wander further and further afield, skip their hunting duties to goof off, maybe like, get drunk off of fermented fruit or something IDK. I think later in life she’ll still love exploring, but also be willing to hang out w older pack members more & come to rlly enjoy listening to their stories!
🐾 how does your wolf feel about humans (or other non-wolf animals)?
I think her curiosity makes her pretty open to non-wolf animals, and especially humans. I don’t believe she’s ever seen a human-- she’s spent basically her whole life travelling through deep back country and then living way up in the mountains.
She’s really curious about them; almost all the pack’s elders (Hat Trick, Finch, Rover, Seven) have these crazy stories about their times living with humans, and humans do such weird stuff; they build giant buildings, they drive cars, they have guns-- Verand views these things as almost myths I think, because she’s never seen them, and the idea of like-- a skyscraper is so outside the scope of her life? So she wants to see if all those stories about humans are true! this is foreshadowing future lore stuff
Personality: Made hyper-vigilant by her upbringing in the strict Sea Pack, Radun is finding it difficult to adjust to the easygoing ways of the wolves at Sanctuary. Her intensely good manners and strict adherence to rank make the other wolves a bit uncomfortable, and they see Radun as overly cautious and stiff.
Naming Conventions: Environment. Pups in the Sea Pack are named after an element of the place they were born, and given common-use nicknames derived from these. These nicknames follow shared conventions, passed down along matrilineal lines. Radun's family, share the "Ra" in their nickname. (Dune Grass -> Radun)
Radun and Verand come from the same pack; a group sea-wolves who make their home on a distant shore. The sea pack was very large, and its rules extremely strict, with a rigid hierarchy quite different from the Sanctuary wolves’ relaxed way of life.
Only high-ranking wolves were allowed to take mates and have pups. This rule naturally led to constant, and sometimes violent, political scheming. Most low-ranking wolves wanted to be promoted and allowed to take mates, and alliances, infighting, bribery, and double-crossing were part of the pack’s day-to-day.
Radun was born to a high-ranking family and excelled at both the political niceties and the physical work of pack life. She was expected to go far. But privately Radun was stressed by the constant scheming of pack politics. She saw the constant suspicion and hostility her parents felt; they never relaxed-- they seemed barely even to trust each other.
She wanted out. Out of the lying, the false friendships, the posturing, the constant looking over your shoulder. When a low-ranking wolf had an illegal litter, and planned to abandon their pup, Radun finally took the leap she’d wanted to take for seasons. She went with the pup, Verand, when it was abandoned, and together the two travelled far away from the shores of their birth.
It was a stressful journey, stretching through harsh winter and a late, cold spring. Radun struggled to fend for both herself and a young, vulnerable pup. She was immensely relieved to reach the pack at Sanctuary, and finally find some safety for herself-- and for Verand, who Radun had come to see as a younger sister.
Radun is glad to see Verand settling in well in her new pack. But for her part, Radun is a bit lonely and uncertain at Sanctuary. She’s sure that this gentle way of life is too good to be true, and she spends each day waiting anxiously for the other shoe to drop.
