#wolvember

[abidethetempest]

Wolvember Day 2 and 3

Was at the renfaire yesterday so I got home too late (and was too wiped out) to do a piece, so y'all are getting two studies today. I did noses and ears, two thing I always struggled with when I used to draw wolves really often a few years ago.

[gaknar]

God damn this fever dream Wolverine has as he’s crucified is horrifying!!! And there’s obviously some level of telepathic communication going on here that’s not explained, as Wolverine witnesses some key developments unfold, including Longshot and Rogue leaving the team, as well as Storm getting killed (and possibly Lady Deathstrike killing Gateway??). And how about Psylocke here. She looks like she gets the technovirus, turns into Lady Deathstrike, and then scratches her own god damned face off!! Fortunately none of THAT actually happened, but this is pretty god damned intense. (Uncanny X-Men #251 – Nov 1989)

[az1206]

Wolvember prompt list!:

The complete prompt list!

Info for the collab:

If you’re on tumblr, you don’t have to worry about the rp part. Also, I am open to discussion about this and how it will work! (I would prefer you respond on the thread itself, as I am more familiar with forums than tumblr)

[gutterclan]

Wolvember Day Five: Scouting

This entry was inspired by a conversation I had with @bone-wolves about a pup they traded me! We decided our scouts, Rover and Pietro, could have met to kick off the trade. This is Rover’s account of that meeting-- but she’s got no issues with lying to tell a good story. Assume that pretty much anything she says abt Pietro and the Rowan’s Shade Pack are at the very least extremely exaggerated, if not completely untrue lol

Now on w/ the show!

“And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the ground underfoot-- oh, even the ground was trying to eat me alive!”

Rover swivels to meet the each of the pups’ eyes in turn.

Dane is staring, eyes wide as saucers; his sister, Setter, feigns disinterest, but her ears are swiveled in Rover’s direction, straining to hear. Little Perch has her paws over her nose, peeking up only once in a while. 

And Finch-- Finch looks as unimpressed as always.  “It was a swamp,” he says. “There was mud.”

Seven whole words-- not a bad record for him.

 Rover shakes her head. “Ah but Finch-- you’ve never seen a swamp like this. It was alive, I’m telling you-- mud? Hah! I would have given my tail for some mud right about then! No-- that swamp wanted me dead. 

I was picking my way across a log; all rotted by rain and slippery underfoot. I was concentrating just to keep my balance on it-- when, just to distract me, a voice cried out in the fog!

“Enemy,”* it said; “You should have told me before coming here!”

I almost lost my grip on the log-- the cold spirits in the water reached up and clutched at me, their icy claws--”

“Rover,” Finch says, warningly. Perch has her face pressed entirely into his fur, her tail tucked between her legs. 

Rover clears her throat. “But,” she says, quickly, “I managed to escape their clutches once again, and turned to meet my new assailant-- a wolf. Or at least, he seemed to be. As I discovered, much about this place wasn’t as it seemed. 

“Enemy,” he said again, his strange accent twisting the words, and approached me through the fog. “Stop-- who are you?”

“Rover,” I told him, “Of The Pack at Sanctuary! I’m no wolf’s enemy-- unless they choose to be mine.”

He bared his teeth at me; they gleamed in the night like a shark’s! Rows upon rows of them!”

Setter bares her teeth in imitation and mock-growls, tackling her brother. The two go wrestling across the ground, biting at one another. 

Perch peeks up from Finch’s side. “Who was he?”

“Hm?”

“The tooth wolf!”

"The tooth wolf-- he was Pietro, the scout of a pack that called themselves…” Rover pauses, waiting until all three pups are looking at her. “The bone wolves!”

Perch gasps, her fur bushed out like a startled cat’s.

“This- ‘Pietro’ brought me to the lair of his pack; he led me through every switchback and sinkhole he could, hoping I would be pulled away; I was soaked through and muddy, pups, and all clawed about by the waters’ spirits, but Pietro-- he remained dry and safe as can be.”

“So you fell in the water,” Finch says. “And he didn’t.”

“Call it what you will.” Rover sniffs. “It became clear to me that there was some strange magic at work. And clearer still once we reached his lair: a Rowan Tree growing vaster than any I’ve seen in these woods. Unnatural, I tell you.” 

The pups are rapt; even Perch has crawled forward, a little, out of Finch’s protection, to sit closer by Rover’s feet.

“And this wolf Pietro-- he began to threaten me. To say that even his new puppies could best me in a fight; that they were strong and clever, and could grind my bones to dust should they choose. And then-- oh pups! And then... the pack’s leader emerged! 

She looked normal at first. But I would swear that as she moved through a beam of moonlight, her glamour fell away, and saw what she truly was: a monster of many limbs and many heads, with many mouths and many eyes! 

And then, in the space of just a blink, she looked a normal wolf again. Such powerful illusions-- a wolf like her could walk among us even here.”

“There’s no such thing,” Finch says, flat. 

Rover she turns on him, voice lowered to a whisper.  “It could even be you, Fincher. What secrets do you hide?”

He scowls mutely at her over Perch’s head. The effect is reduced, a little, for his angry face being framed by two floppy puppy-ears. 

Rover goes on: “This strange wolf spoke with Pietro a long while- deciding my fate, no doubt! To be fed to this pack of hungry spirits? To be set free to wander the swamps alone, lost, never again to be found?

And then, pups- this is the strangest part. The leader came to me- and gave me a pup of her own litter. She said she was ‘curious’. Well-- I didn’t stay to ask what she meant! I knew it was my first duty to bring this pup to safety, and I fled that place as if death’s hounds where on my heels!”

“But you were OK!” Setter says, a little anxiously. “You’re here!”

“Yes.” Rover noses at her pup; Setter yips in delight and romps a circle around her, flopping down at Rover’s paws. “Yes. After a long journey, carrying the poor, terrified pup in my jaws-- we arrived back at Sanctuary. The strangers couldn’t follow us here-- we’re safe in these mountains.”

Rover bends one foreleg in invitation, and Dane stumbles over to join his sister between Rover’s paws. 

“But,” she says. “Be careful not to tread outside of camp-- not without one of us with you. Who knows what creatures still lurk in the shadows outside our territory?”

Well, and Rover had gone and stirred up the pups again. It’s always a chore and a half, getting them settled after her stories. It had taken no small effort, on Finch’s part, to get Setter and Dane to stop re-enacting ‘ghost wolf’ battles and scaring the marrow straight out of Perch.

Finch huffs, turning to take his nightly lap around the camp. One last check, before he goes to bed. Just to make sure everything’s safe. 

The night is warm and gentle; a long, purple, summer evening, the bright day fading only slowly into dusk.

“Finch?” Says a voice behind him.

It’s Carnassial. The ‘terrified pup’ of Rover’s inane story. Her eyes shine up at him in the dark, gold and liquid.

“You should be with Saturn.” He sniffs her over; yes. There’s the sharp, herbal smell of the healers’, thick in her fur.

“She said I could go.”

“She did?”

“I’m all better.” Carnassial opens her mouth; her teeth gleam in the dark. Like a sharks’, says Rover’s voice in the back of Finch’s mind. Rows upon rows of them. “See? No more sore throat.”

Finch blinks. Stupid. “Yes. I see.”

Carnassial is looking up at him, still-- and still drooping, her stumpy puppy-tail dragging nearly in the dirt.

Finch noses at her, worried. Is she still sick? Unexpectedly, she leans up and rubs her cheek against his, her little body trembling. 

“Nassi,” he says, startled.

Carnassial buries her nose against his neck; he can feel her taking deep, shaky breaths. 

“Hey. What is it?”

“--is it true?” She says, muffled against his neck. “Rover’s story?”

Finch blinks. He’s going to kill that no-good wolf, and scat to what Seven has to say about it. A growl builds in his throat, low and rumbling. “You listened to that?”

“Sorry.” Carnassial backs away. “I was gonna say something, but I didn’t--”

“No,” Finch says, low. “Don’t be sorry. It isn’t true.”

"It isn’t?”

“You were born to another pack. Rover brought you here. That’s all.” He grunts, stands. “Come.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll sleep in my den, tonight.” He pauses. Looks back at her. “If you like?”

Carnassial wastes no time in coming after him, butting his leg with her shoulder as they walk.

She is a tiny, warm thing, curled between his paws that night. Just a puppy; silver fur and outsized ears and a dark, twitching nose. 

Perfectly formed. 

*Pietro actually said “Enit” here, not Enemy’; he mistook Rover for Enit, the Rowan’s Shade Packs’ leader! Like most of the rest of this story, Rover has misunderstood or deliberately mischaracterized this in order to make her story more ~spoooooky

[All art assets in this story belong to Wolvden]

[bluefox-den]

Wolvember Day 2–“We Need To Talk”

“We need to talk.”

Shrike glanced up from the bone he had been gnawing on to see Salmonberry standing at the edge of the clearing, looking uncomfortable. As with every time she spoke to him, he felt a spark of hope, but tried to snuff it out immediately. “What is it?”

Her eyes darted around the clearing, not wanting to look at him. “It’s about the pups. They’re two seasons old now, old enough to be named.”

Ah. He should have expected this. “They can have your last name. I know…” He took a deep breath. “I know you don’t want to be associated with me.”

Salmonberry quickly shook her head. “No, that’s not it at all.” She paused, as though she was trying to figure out what to say. “I was going to tell you to name them. And ask if they could have your last name.”

Shrike wasn’t prepared for that. “Why?”

“You should be part of their family. Not me.”

“Do you not care about them anymore?” he asked, anger seeping into his voice.

“I do care!” Salmonberry snapped. “I care about them, just as I care about every member of this pack. They just…” she trailed off, looking defeated.

“They remind you of me,” Shrike finished for her. “And you want to forget that.”

Salmonberry lowered her gaze to the ground, nodding. She hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward to lean into Shrike’s side. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Shrike nuzzled her. “What are you sorry for?”

It took her a moment to answer. “For being like this. For not being able to love you back.” She sighed. “Maybe I’m just broken.”

Hearing her say that, Shrike felt his heart ache. “You’re not broken,” he said, stopping himself before he called her my love. It would only make her feel more guilty.

“But there’s something wrong with me, right? I’m supposed to love you. I’m supposed to love our pups. I mean, I do love them, but seeing Alma with her new litter makes me think that I don’t love ours enough. I’m a bad mother.” She buried her face in his fur.

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Shrike said firmly. “You don’t owe your love to me. And I can see that you do love the pups, the same way you love every pup that you help to care for. But I also know that you hadn’t wanted to be a mother. And I’m sorry that you felt like you owed me a family.”

They stood together in silence for a moment, both looking up to watch as the stars began to appear.

“Thank you,” Salmonberry said, finally stepping away. “I don’t deserve your kindness.”

“I just want you to be happy,” Shrike replied. He hesitated, then asked, “Do you still want me to name the pups?”

Salmonberry nodded. “You’re a good father to them,” she said, “and a good wolf.” Then, with a faint smile returning to her face, she added, “They would be proud to carry your last name.”

[dem0nsiget-wolvden]

Wolvember Day One: Dreams

Abaise hadn’t noticed anything off when she’d woken up in the dead of night in camp, curled up with her back pressed against Kotsim’s. She had merely stood and left camp for a short walk, what she always did when she woke in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t until she noticed that she’d passed a rock a couple of times that she stopped, looking around. She stood in a spot she knew well, a small meadowy clearing only a stone’s throw from the edge of the grasslands, a place she’d taken Singwe and Anpa to practice stalking many times.

What was different though, was that instead of seeing a sparse band of trees that separated the clearing form the grasslands, and the grassy hills beyond, she only saw mist. It obscured her vision, closing the clearing off from the rest of the forest.

Abaise bristled, looking up to see the night sky and stars shining down on her, unease creeping over her hide.

She heard a soft whine, turning, but seeing no one, another whine echoing in the night from behind her. She whirled to face that direction, but saw no one again. She was about to snap out for whoever it was to show themselves, when a chorus of whines and pain-filled howls filled the air around her, coming from all directions, no wolves visible.

Abaise flattened her ears to her head, sinking down into the soft grass of the meadow. As she did, the grass transformed, pulling at her fur. She looked to her side and yelped, jumping away from the skeletal remains of a wolf, looking around frantically, the beautiful meadow now replaced with charred and black earth, the remains of wolves scattered across them.

Beware what will come to be.

Abaise winced at the sound of the voice, the noise seeming to come from her head, seeing no one to speak the words. She tried to call out to the being, ask what it meant, but found that even as she opened her jaws, no sound came out, no words formed.

She waited, thinking it would offer some kind of explanation to the ruin she saw before her, but all she heard was the now distant chorus of whines and pained howls.

~~~~~~~~~

Abaise was about to try to walk closer to them, when she snapped awake, shooting up, hearing a pained yelp, thinking she was still stuck in the dream, until she whipped her head around to look around her den, seeing Kotsim rubbing his nose on his leg.

“What was that all about?”, he asked his mate, turning to look at her, bristled slightly, his eyes a bit wet from the hit he’d taken directly to the nose by her skull. “You were thrashing and murmuring in your sleep, then you smacked me in the nose with your head.”

Wowasi sat in her nest above them, staying quiet, but watching, looking a bit concerned.

Abaise just breathed slowly, calming herself down, before she stepped forward, burying her face in the fur of her mate’s chest.

Kotsim looked surprised, as Abaise usually was very proper and put together, but she seemed terrified. He just sat down, leaning down slightly and started licking her shoulder comfortingly, as Wowasi gliding down to land on her back, dragging her beak through her fur in her way of petting.

“What happened?”, the dark scout asked softly, feeling Abaise trembling.

“I don’t know. A horrible dream.”, she said softly, finally calming down enough to speak, sitting back slightly, but leaned into Kotsim slightly. “I was in the clearing by the grasslands, and I could barely see anything, and then I just heard... dozens and dozens of wolves, whining and howling in pain, but I couldn’t see any of them. And then...”, she started, and broke off.

“And then just death, and destruction. Burned earth, wolf bones.”, she said softly. “I don’t know what it was.”

Kotsim listened quietly, leaning down and nuzzling her slightly. “It was just a dream, Abaise. Probably worry. This is our second winter, and our first here. We don’t know what this forest holds for us in the cold yet.”, he said.

Abaise just sighed softly, nodding slightly. “You’re... you’re probably right.”, she said softly, as Wowasai swooped back into her nest.

Kotsim just nudged Abaise, and yawned slightly. “Come on, let’s lay down. You don’t have to sleep, but at least lay down and rest. It’ll be better than nothing.”, he said.

Abaise just nodded slightly, laying down and curling up with Kotsim, tucking herself into the curve of his stomach, laying her head on his side after he’d settled down.

Kotsim smiled softly at that, doing the same, the two of them looking almost interlocked, curled up together for comfort, and in Abaise’s case, security in her much more levelheaded mate.

[bone-wolves]

Wolvember Day 9 - Winter

Tara is out scouting and pauses for a moment to watch the snowflakes fall softly. Winter is a hard time but it has it's pretty moments as well.

[abidethetempest]

Wolvember Day 1

I’m challenging myself to draw something wolf-related every day of November! I’m calling it Wolvember (which I’m sure someone else has already come up before w lol so pls don’t sue me). Today is a doodle of a wolf character my friend has!