aurora borealis- noun plural: An aurora that occurs in northern regions of the earth. Also called northern lights.

In the middle of a dense forest of coniferous trees lies the Aurora Borealis pack, its name coming from its location. At certain times of the year, the northern lights appear, dancing almost magically in the sky. A narrow trail leads you through the close evergreens. Giving into temptation, you begin moving your paws. By venturing into this territory, you are venturing into a land belonging to a pair of feared leaders. You have heard rumors of them...but you decide to take your chances and hope that the tales of blood and death are merely fabricated stories to scare wolves.

You have walked nearly five minutes before you realize the sound of paws stepping somewhere from behind. Deciding that you've made a mistake, you quickly turn around, but find that you cannot go any further. Standing before you is one of the mighty kings you've heard of. His blood red pelt clings over perfectly toned bands of muscle. But that isn't what causes such fear in your veins. One of his amber eyes has a horrid, bleeding scar across it, and his good eye seems to stare right through you. His face is expressionless, giving off none of his intentions. You cower away as his jaws part.

"I'm Hell Demon."

His voice was deep and cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. Right where he left off, another voice picks up from behind you. You whirl around and find yourself facing another male with steely muscles beneath his pelt, which seems to consist of every shade of brown. He had startled you, and you're amazed how you hadn't at all detected his approach.

"And I am Ghost...we're the alphas of Aurora Borealis."

His deep voice was laced thickly with a Native American accent. His own golden eyes are directing a harsh glare your way. Now you're caught in the middle...your breathing has become heavy in your panic and you're not sure which to face.

"You've foolishly trespassed into our territory. You face the one called Hell Demon's whose voice is once more addressing you. Get out, or become a corpse along our border."

It's obvious they mean business. So now it's up to you...take your chances and stay, or heed their warning and waste no time getting out with your life.

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The young pup had wandered far, almost to the other side of the entire forest, in an impressive feat for one so small. He barely registered the distance, his focus solely on finding something to eat. Tyson, a usually overly feisty and confident pup, was thinner than he’d ever been and most of his ribs showed through his thinning pelt. Things had been looking up when he’d been allowed entrance in Andere Seite, the destination the voice of his mother that called out through his dreams had sent him to. The last words she’d spoken to him were to find that pack. He’d waited patiently for her, but since the pack meeting he’d stumbled upon broke up he’d been left to his own devices. Too small to catch anything to eat despite his stubborn personality, he’d taken to trekking his way through the trees in search of another wolf, his mother cast from his mind in the need to find food. He’d not noticed the different scents as he left Andere Seite’s territory, nor as he crossed through other territories; he was a small dot marking the vast lands owned by the wolves surrounding him, one that went unnoticed.

Tyson literally fell into Aurora Borealis, though he had no idea that’s where he was, as his overly large paws crossed and his muzzle was shoved into the dirt. The occurrence was nothing new; all signs showed he’d grow to be a large wolf, an aggressive fighter, but with his age all he could accomplish was a stumbling run. His gaze lifted, revealing sharp blue, narrowed eyes that showed he still had some fight in him yet. His lip curled up as he dragged himself back to all four paws slightly shakily and took in his surroundings for the first time. The trees were close and the scent on the air was definitely not that of the pack he was supposed to be with. He looked forwards, unsure on whether he should continue or turn back to where his mother had sent him. Her orders made those lands seem more like home, though he knew she’d never been part of a pack and the pair of them had always avoided the packs spread through the forest. He turned his head and looked behind him, back on the trail he’d wandered that suddenly seemed such a far distance. His ears sank flat against his skull.

It was the grumble of his stomach that finally made up Tyson’s mind. It was a long way back and he didn’t know the way, but he knew he’d not come across other wolves or food along the journey. Ahead lay an unknown path, one that could lead him into further danger, but could also save his life. He didn’t really have a choice, and he could smell hints of other wolves passing here. Instinct urged the young brute to follow the scents, to find wolves that might take pity on him and give him food. He trod on, his path wonky as he shook with the effort walking took after the day full of it. His eyes straightened, then shoved forwards as he growled with aggression at his weary thoughts. He wouldn’t give up; he’d find a wolf, get some food and then see to getting back to his mother. He was still convinced she’d be waiting for him to find her.

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||Tyson|| ||No Mate|| ||No Pack|| ||Pup||





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