The Lumen Pack make their home in a bright, prey-rich wood.
[Members of the Lumen Pack]
ALPHESS ASPEN
UNNATURAL EYE COLORS AWARDED BY WE ROAM STAFF.
With a fire in her heart and a spring in her step, Aspen is the proud Alphess of the Lumen Pack. Standing at roughly 2 feet from paw to shoulder, and about 4 feet from nose to tail tip, 1.5-year-old Aspen is smaller, and younger, than most Alphesses. Weighing in at 80 pounds, it is quite obvious that Aspen has a slender, petite frame. Covering the Hudson Bay she-wolf is a very thick, white coat of fur. Aspen sports a fat, short muzzle, a blue left eye, and a chestnut right eye. Although her fur is mostly white, a brown color dusts the top of her head, and a gray color does the same between her ears and on her paws. Aspen's large concentration of fur is a blessing and a curse, keeping her warm in the cold winter evenings, but perhaps a bit too warm in the hot summer mornings. This doesn't put a damper on her fiery personality, though. Aspen won't show that a few harsh words can bring her down. She's bold, she's loud, and she's very, very proud. Aspen pushes herself to prove she is all the pack needs, tries to push past her size and the stereotypes that follow. She wants to show all she can do, wants to demonstrate that she can take down a competitor the same way a big wolf could. Aspen will never give up, and has a firm belief in bringing evil to justice. This all stems from her past, her fear of getting hurt the way her father hurt her.
"Catch me if you can, Ayla!" Shouted Archer. Ayla's tongue flew out beside her as she sprinted toward her littermate. Ayla leaped, soaring through the air in the direction of her brother. The smart pup ducked, sending Ayla crashing into the thorn bush beside him. Archer thought it was funny, but their mother did not. The two thought they would never hear the end of it as Jay, their mother, pulled the thorns one by one from Ayla's thick coat. Ayla, as any little she-wolf would, milked the attention as much as she could, whining and shouting as Jay pulled the prickly little things from her fur. Ayla, of course, couldn't feel a thing, because the thorns were too short to make it past her layers of fur. After she was picked clean, Jay lightened up and the three talked and laughed and played for the rest of the afternoon. That was, until their father arrived with a rabbit for supper. Beau, Ayla and Archer's father, was a large, white-gray brute, with piercing yellow eyes and plenty of tooth and claw to go around. He demanded respect, not even allowing his own mate or children to look him in the eye. When he got home, he would often scratch, bite, and beat Jay for a while, and then take a bite of supper when he got bored of that. Beau's family were denied food until he was full, which was usually once the prey had been nearly picked clean. Then, when Jay, Archer, and Ayla could eat, they would have to gnaw on the bones to get whatever they could find- marrow, bits of muscle, whatever Beau left behind. Then, they would break off the bones and chew on them, in the hopes that it would, at the very least, take the edge off their hunger. Archer and Ayla were only five months old, had only been doing this for a month, but already had accepted this as the norm. Beau was a very dominant father, would hurt his family if they challenged him. He called himself the Alpha, but they all knew that Jay would never be called an Alphess. In his eyes, they were all the Omega of their pack of four. This would continue for years. One might wonder how Jay, Archer, and Ayla got by. Well, they had a secret. Or, rather, The Secret. Day in and day out, Jay would catch whatever she could for her pups. She knew that, surely, she would perish if Beau ever found out. This, however, would never stop her. If Beau wanted to kill her babies, he would have to kill her first. Perhaps he would.
Ayla and Archer stood by Jay, licking behind her ears and reassuring her that everything would be alright. The two littermates were a year old now, and Jay was delivering Beau's second litter. On the floor of their den lay the vole that Jay had caught for her son and daughter that day. It had gone uneaten, for Jay went into labor as soon as she returned with it. Beau stepped into the den with the usual bird, the scent of she-wolf heavy on his fur, as it always was. He dropped his prey to the floor, taking a seat. His cutting yellow gaze flickered from his mate's prey to his mate, burning into the five puppies as they were born, three male and two female. By now, Jay had noticed Beau, motioning Ayla to go over and block the sight of her prey. It was too late.
Beau let out a mighty roar, thundering toward the new mother, throwing Archer to the wall of the den with his mighty strength. Ayla fluttered past swiftly to help her brother, turning around just in time to see Beau and Jay nose to nose. Ayla had never looked into her father's eyes before, not since her mother did and received a beating all that while ago, but now Jay was staring into his yellow eyes, anger clear in her crystal blue gaze.
"What's that vole in the corner there?" questioned Beau, his eyes flitting to the edge of the den. Ayla imagined his stinking breath washing over Jay's nostrils. Jay didn't even flinch, though.
"Our freedom. Our freedom from you, our freedom from all you've ever-"
Ayla's gaze had fallen to her feet by now, but she looked up at a choking sound. Her eyes widened as she watched Beau's claws extend to their full length into her throat, watched crimson blood ooze into her rust-colored fur, watched Beau's other foot draw nearer to the littlest girl pup. Ayla couldn't let her mother die, couldn't let her mother's pups- her siblings- die.
"Stop," mumbled Ayla. Beau swung around, slashing Jay's side as he did so.
"Did I hear something, mangy rat?"
Ayla looked him in the face, in the eyes, finally seeing the hatred she had been hiding from all these years.
"You heard, 'get your claws out of my mother, Beau.'"
That really seemed to set him off.
Archer arose to stand by Ayla, bristling.
Jay was released, but her beautiful head fell to the dirt immediately, either unconcious or- Ayla hoped not-
"I want to be Alpha," Archer stated firmly, staring into the piercing yellow gaze of his father.
Beau's brow furrowed. "You do, then?"
Archer nodded, maintaining eye contact. Beau looked like he had already won, snickered as if mocking Archer. Seeing this, Ayla stepped forward:
"And I want to be Alphess."
Beau's mocking face weakened slightly, but still, he remained confident in his ability to take them down.
Ayla and Archer leaped at him, no strategy whatsoever. They were still in their early teens, but Archer had certainly caught up to Beau in size, and Ayla had surpassed him in speed. The aspen forest around their home seemed to stand still. Ayla unintentionally ducked under Beau as he lurched forward, supposing she could bite his vulnerable stomach while she passed. Beau gave a roar of anger, Whirling around to face her. Ayla locked eyes with him, smirking before leaping onto his head, scrambling to his back. By now, Archer was underneath Beau the way Ayla was previously, tearing at his vulnerable spots. Blood oozed from a gash on Beau's head, covering his eyes. Ayla was on his back, biting his ears and neck before being thrown off. Archer had time to reach organs while Ayla was on top, so Beau staggered and fell when Archer had escaped from underneath. Beau got to his feet again, but quickly collapsed once more. This time, the littermates pinned him down, Archer resting a huge paw on their father's head and Ayla trying her best to hold the even bigger body to the ground.
"Done yet, Beau?" Archer taunted.
"N-not yet," Beau spat blood, then lifting his head slightly to look forlornly at his daughter. He knew of her sensitivity, knew she felt awful about what she'd done to him.
"A-Ayla, little girl... you know I love you..."
Ayla's gaze fell to her feet. This was a trick, she knew that. Jay was dead, and Beau did that to her. Archer's radiant white coat was spattered with blood, and she knew Beau did that, too. Ayla moved to help her father, drawing in a shuddering breath. She could feel Beau's heartbeat quicken beneath her feet, and she knew.
Ayla suddenly realized what would happen, realized what Beau had done to her.
Archer drew in a sharp breath, prepared to fight off his sister and father, but Ayla stopped.
Beau looked over his shoulder at her, opening his mouth to question her quick halt. "Ayla," he began.
"I'm not Ayla."
Beau scoffed. "Yes, you are. I chose that name."
"Exactly." Her gaze hardened.
Beau growled. "Ayla, get off of me and-"
Thinking fast, the she-wolf glanced at the aspen forest outside.
"My name is Aspen, Beau."
Aspen took a deep breath, strolling over to his face, wanting to look at the horror in his eyes at what she craved most to do to him. She took Archer's position with a paw on Beau's head. The she-wolf gritted her teeth, digging her claws into her father's- no, her enemy's- skin, only stopping when he whimpered in pain.
"I'm not using the name given to me by the rat that murdered my mother."
She growled, digging her claws into his cheek and allowing herself to travel to the cold-blooded killer's eyes and nose and, eventually, his throat.
Aspen wasn't allowed to be sensitive anymore.
After all, she was a cold-blooded killer, too.
"Catch me if you can, Ayla!" Shouted Archer. Ayla's tongue flew out beside her as she sprinted toward her littermate. Ayla leaped, soaring through the air in the direction of her brother. The smart pup ducked, sending Ayla crashing into the thorn bush beside him. Archer thought it was funny, but their mother did not. The two thought they would never hear the end of it as Jay, their mother, pulled the thorns one by one from Ayla's thick coat. Ayla, as any little she-wolf would, milked the attention as much as she could, whining and shouting as Jay pulled the prickly little things from her fur. Ayla, of course, couldn't feel a thing, because the thorns were too short to make it past her layers of fur. After she was picked clean, Jay lightened up and the three talked and laughed and played for the rest of the afternoon. That was, until their father arrived with a rabbit for supper. Beau, Ayla and Archer's father, was a large, white-gray brute, with piercing yellow eyes and plenty of tooth and claw to go around. He demanded respect, not even allowing his own mate or children to look him in the eye. When he got home, he would often scratch, bite, and beat Jay for a while, and then take a bite of supper when he got bored of that. Beau's family were denied food until he was full, which was usually once the prey had been nearly picked clean. Then, when Jay, Archer, and Ayla could eat, they would have to gnaw on the bones to get whatever they could find- marrow, bits of muscle, whatever Beau left behind. Then, they would break off the bones and chew on them, in the hopes that it would, at the very least, take the edge off their hunger. Archer and Ayla were only five months old, had only been doing this for a month, but already had accepted this as the norm. Beau was a very dominant father, would hurt his family if they challenged him. He called himself the Alpha, but they all knew that Jay would never be called an Alphess. In his eyes, they were all the Omega of their pack of four. This would continue for years. One might wonder how Jay, Archer, and Ayla got by. Well, they had a secret. Or, rather, The Secret. Day in and day out, Jay would catch whatever she could for her pups. She knew that, surely, she would perish if Beau ever found out. This, however, would never stop her. If Beau wanted to kill her babies, he would have to kill her first. Perhaps he would.
Ayla and Archer stood by Jay, licking behind her ears and reassuring her that everything would be alright. The two littermates were a year old now, and Jay was delivering Beau's second litter. On the floor of their den lay the vole that Jay had caught for her son and daughter that day. It had gone uneaten, for Jay went into labor as soon as she returned with it. Beau stepped into the den with the usual bird, the scent of she-wolf heavy on his fur, as it always was. He dropped his prey to the floor, taking a seat. His cutting yellow gaze flickered from his mate's prey to his mate, burning into the five puppies as they were born, three male and two female. By now, Jay had noticed Beau, motioning Ayla to go over and block the sight of her prey. It was too late.
Beau let out a mighty roar, thundering toward the new mother, throwing Archer to the wall of the den with his mighty strength. Ayla fluttered past swiftly to help her brother, turning around just in time to see Beau and Jay nose to nose. Ayla had never looked into her father's eyes before, not since her mother did and received a beating all that while ago, but now Jay was staring into his yellow eyes, anger clear in her crystal blue gaze.
"What's that vole in the corner there?" questioned Beau, his eyes flitting to the edge of the den. Ayla imagined his stinking breath washing over Jay's nostrils. Jay didn't even flinch, though.
"Our freedom. Our freedom from you, our freedom from all you've ever-"
Ayla's gaze had fallen to her feet by now, but she looked up at a choking sound. Her eyes widened as she watched Beau's claws extend to their full length into her throat, watched crimson blood ooze into her rust-colored fur, watched Beau's other foot draw nearer to the littlest girl pup. Ayla couldn't let her mother die, couldn't let her mother's pups- her siblings- die.
"Stop," mumbled Ayla. Beau swung around, slashing Jay's side as he did so.
"Did I hear something, mangy rat?"
Ayla looked him in the face, in the eyes, finally seeing the hatred she had been hiding from all these years.
"You heard, 'get your claws out of my mother, Beau.'"
That really seemed to set him off.
Archer arose to stand by Ayla, bristling.
Jay was released, but her beautiful head fell to the dirt immediately, either unconcious or- Ayla hoped not-
"I want to be Alpha," Archer stated firmly, staring into the piercing yellow gaze of his father.
Beau's brow furrowed. "You do, then?"
Archer nodded, maintaining eye contact. Beau looked like he had already won, snickered as if mocking Archer. Seeing this, Ayla stepped forward:
"And I want to be Alphess."
Beau's mocking face weakened slightly, but still, he remained confident in his ability to take them down.
Ayla and Archer leaped at him, no strategy whatsoever. They were still in their early teens, but Archer had certainly caught up to Beau in size, and Ayla had surpassed him in speed. The aspen forest around their home seemed to stand still. Ayla unintentionally ducked under Beau as he lurched forward, supposing she could bite his vulnerable stomach while she passed. Beau gave a roar of anger, Whirling around to face her. Ayla locked eyes with him, smirking before leaping onto his head, scrambling to his back. By now, Archer was underneath Beau the way Ayla was previously, tearing at his vulnerable spots. Blood oozed from a gash on Beau's head, covering his eyes. Ayla was on his back, biting his ears and neck before being thrown off. Archer had time to reach organs while Ayla was on top, so Beau staggered and fell when Archer had escaped from underneath. Beau got to his feet again, but quickly collapsed once more. This time, the littermates pinned him down, Archer resting a huge paw on their father's head and Ayla trying her best to hold the even bigger body to the ground.
"Done yet, Beau?" Archer taunted.
"N-not yet," Beau spat blood, then lifting his head slightly to look forlornly at his daughter. He knew of her sensitivity, knew she felt awful about what she'd done to him.
"A-Ayla, little girl... you know I love you..."
Ayla's gaze fell to her feet. This was a trick, she knew that. Jay was dead, and Beau did that to her. Archer's radiant white coat was spattered with blood, and she knew Beau did that, too. Ayla moved to help her father, drawing in a shuddering breath. She could feel Beau's heartbeat quicken beneath her feet, and she knew.
Ayla suddenly realized what would happen, realized what Beau had done to her.
Archer drew in a sharp breath, prepared to fight off his sister and father, but Ayla stopped.
Beau looked over his shoulder at her, opening his mouth to question her quick halt. "Ayla," he began.
"I'm not Ayla."
Beau scoffed. "Yes, you are. I chose that name."
"Exactly." Her gaze hardened.
Beau growled. "Ayla, get off of me and-"
Thinking fast, the she-wolf glanced at the aspen forest outside.
"My name is Aspen, Beau."
Aspen took a deep breath, strolling over to his face, wanting to look at the horror in his eyes at what she craved most to do to him. She took Archer's position with a paw on Beau's head. The she-wolf gritted her teeth, digging her claws into her father's- no, her enemy's- skin, only stopping when he whimpered in pain.
"I'm not using the name given to me by the rat that murdered my mother."
She growled, digging her claws into his cheek and allowing herself to travel to the cold-blooded killer's eyes and nose and, eventually, his throat.
Aspen wasn't allowed to be sensitive anymore.
After all, she was a cold-blooded killer, too.
HUNTING LEAD-MESSENGER KEMANSI
UNNATURAL EYE COLOR EARNED THROUGH MEMBER OF THE MONTH PRIVILEGES.
Kemansi is a she-wolf Messenger and Hunter of the Lumen Pack. She is three years old, with not one but two very peculiar eye colors. She has a yellow-green left eye and a lavender purple right eye. Kemansi, while trying her best to be responsible and serious, tends to be hyper, and playful when she feels like no one cares, or is watching. She has a positive personality most of the time, trying to keep everyone on the happy side. Kemansi is quite small-sized, 3'5 length and only 3' from nose tip to tail tip. She is a Tibetan Wolf.
SOLDIER RONAN
UNNATURAL EYE COLORS AWARDED BY WE ROAM STAFF.
Ronan is a flirtatious brute, full of energy and confidence. His rather handsome coat communicates that he is a Tundra-Tibetan wolf mix. It is an off white base painted with hues of reddish creams, with darker accents fanning out from his spine. Ronan sports a long, downturned muzzle and a diamond-shaped face, with red ears sitting straight atop his head. Perhaps the most impressive feature he has are his bright jade eyes, which complement his plain pelt. Aside from his eyes, three-year-old Ronan is also huge. The brute is four feet tall, six feet and seven inches from nose to tail tip, and weighs in at a hefty 190 pounds. His big body matches with his big personality. Ronan is a total flirt, and he is not afraid of rejection. After all, some rejection is inevitable if you're smooth-talking faes constantly. Building and maintaining his huge body is left up to his role as a Soldier of the Lumen pack.
Ronan was raised in a broken home. His father would hurt his mother, and his mother would hurt her children. It was more of a prison than a family, the brute always thought.
One night, he snuck out in the hopes of escaping. Stumbling upon the Lumen pack was perhaps one of his greatest moments. The rest is history; Ronan is free from his abusive parents now. His one regret is leaving his siblings behind to live in misery and pain. The brute hopes to return and rescue them, if they are not already dead when he gets there.
Ronan was raised in a broken home. His father would hurt his mother, and his mother would hurt her children. It was more of a prison than a family, the brute always thought.
One night, he snuck out in the hopes of escaping. Stumbling upon the Lumen pack was perhaps one of his greatest moments. The rest is history; Ronan is free from his abusive parents now. His one regret is leaving his siblings behind to live in misery and pain. The brute hopes to return and rescue them, if they are not already dead when he gets there.
PUP FRIGID
Frigid is an energetic small pup, who is destined to be a confident brute when he grows. He’s very playful and curious, and any excuse to play is good enough for him! His tail usually wags back and forth and his tongue usually lols in cute and utter adorableness. His usually pointed straight ears show how happy he is.
Frigid is a Tibetan wolf with black and white tips with amber eyes. His current length is 2’7” from nose to tail tip, his current height is 1’6” from toe to shoulder, and his current weight is 35 pounds, which someday he may be a brute. His rank is Pups and his gender is Male.
Poor Frigid doesn’t have much of a backstory, he had ended up wandering throughout Rogue territory without memory of his mother, father, or any possible siblings. When others asked him if he were lost when they had found him by the border, all he could do was shrug his shoulders. Some believe he had some type of Amnesia issues somewhat revolving around his parents, and that would make sense if that were true.
Frigid, the only thing he could even remember was his name, traveled lonely throughout the forest. Anything else he could remember from before was his den… His toys… Other things that were scattered across his mind. But for some reason he had felt like there were something missing in his head. But what?
Eventually, Frigid had traveled to the border of the Lumen pack. He had smelt the markers but didn’t know what to do about it, so continued forward to find any possible sign of a new home. Where was everybody? Was he the only one for continents away?
After getting some sleep and waking up again to an empty stomach and chap lips, he started traveling again in the morning. Early in the morning, too. Wherever his mindset was taking him. Something inside of him told him to do so. Awhile of trekking the forest all by himself had passed until he started to hear some muffled speech. All he could do was simply follow, and not really have the need to waste any unnecessary energy by yipping in relief.
Frigid followed the muffled voices until it finally led him to some water source. He happily drank a lot, but continued to follow whoever he was following. When he heard more voices, he decided to start crouching to his destination.
From his nose, he could smell many great things. The tang of food made him realize how long it had been since he had eaten. He growled in distaste and started to continue hungrily. After going through a series of trees, the trees had spread out and out came a clearing. Still crouching, Frigid stopped as he watched all the heads moving around. Who were these wolves? Were they friendly? But most importantly, would they share?
Lonelesome Frigid had watched these wolves continue on with their activities, until a branch snapped behind him. When he looked he saw another wolf.
“A pup? Where did you come from?” They asked. The sniffed Frigid, and gave him a questionable look. “Are you lost poor thing?”
All Frigid could do was nod, he had no clue as to how to answer. There was no real way to say, “I might have accidentally forgotten literally almost everything about myself so yeah I think I’m lost.”
“Aww, poor thing looks like he’s been starving! We’ll fix you right up,” said the wolf with a sad tone. The wolf had picked him up by the scruff without letting him reply and carried him over the miniature barrier and into camp.
Frigid could only think about what was going on; simply clueless. What had urged him to come? What mattered most, however, was the fact that he finally had a non-makeshift den to sleep in, some food to eat, clean water to drink, and even an area to bask.
All you could really say that his paws certainly felt better.
Frigid is a Tibetan wolf with black and white tips with amber eyes. His current length is 2’7” from nose to tail tip, his current height is 1’6” from toe to shoulder, and his current weight is 35 pounds, which someday he may be a brute. His rank is Pups and his gender is Male.
Poor Frigid doesn’t have much of a backstory, he had ended up wandering throughout Rogue territory without memory of his mother, father, or any possible siblings. When others asked him if he were lost when they had found him by the border, all he could do was shrug his shoulders. Some believe he had some type of Amnesia issues somewhat revolving around his parents, and that would make sense if that were true.
Frigid, the only thing he could even remember was his name, traveled lonely throughout the forest. Anything else he could remember from before was his den… His toys… Other things that were scattered across his mind. But for some reason he had felt like there were something missing in his head. But what?
Eventually, Frigid had traveled to the border of the Lumen pack. He had smelt the markers but didn’t know what to do about it, so continued forward to find any possible sign of a new home. Where was everybody? Was he the only one for continents away?
After getting some sleep and waking up again to an empty stomach and chap lips, he started traveling again in the morning. Early in the morning, too. Wherever his mindset was taking him. Something inside of him told him to do so. Awhile of trekking the forest all by himself had passed until he started to hear some muffled speech. All he could do was simply follow, and not really have the need to waste any unnecessary energy by yipping in relief.
Frigid followed the muffled voices until it finally led him to some water source. He happily drank a lot, but continued to follow whoever he was following. When he heard more voices, he decided to start crouching to his destination.
From his nose, he could smell many great things. The tang of food made him realize how long it had been since he had eaten. He growled in distaste and started to continue hungrily. After going through a series of trees, the trees had spread out and out came a clearing. Still crouching, Frigid stopped as he watched all the heads moving around. Who were these wolves? Were they friendly? But most importantly, would they share?
Lonelesome Frigid had watched these wolves continue on with their activities, until a branch snapped behind him. When he looked he saw another wolf.
“A pup? Where did you come from?” They asked. The sniffed Frigid, and gave him a questionable look. “Are you lost poor thing?”
All Frigid could do was nod, he had no clue as to how to answer. There was no real way to say, “I might have accidentally forgotten literally almost everything about myself so yeah I think I’m lost.”
“Aww, poor thing looks like he’s been starving! We’ll fix you right up,” said the wolf with a sad tone. The wolf had picked him up by the scruff without letting him reply and carried him over the miniature barrier and into camp.
Frigid could only think about what was going on; simply clueless. What had urged him to come? What mattered most, however, was the fact that he finally had a non-makeshift den to sleep in, some food to eat, clean water to drink, and even an area to bask.
All you could really say that his paws certainly felt better.