The river gurgled lazily in its bed, crooning lullabies to itself as it grabbed at the silvery stalks of the grasses that trailed in its wake. Green and feathery, they tickled the skin of the water, taunting the fish that lurked beneath, rising occassionally to lunch on an insect that was hovering precariously low. Fiammetta watched this all with fascination, her ears twitching rapidly to catch every pinprick of sound, hungrily lapping up the atmosphere around her with the vigour that is gifted to the youth. At 45 months, she was very nearly full grown, but she still bore the undeniable curiosity of a newborn, her very body thrumming with the ebb and flow of life that happened all around her. She sat on the lip of the riverbank, peering down into the fathomless depths of the Aplos, gazing at her reflection made ethereal by the hazy mist rising from the body of water as it wound its way through Moladion. Snow lay thickly on the ground, but it petered out where the water met the land, leaving a relatively dry stretch of earth for the female to recline upon. Her unruly alabaster pelt gleamed in the sunlight (even the russet marking on her face shone slightly this day), but it was not so white as the ivory drifts piled high behind the wolf. She reveled in this new landscape, enjoying her emancipation thoroughly. At last, no more mother ghosted her, bossing her around, no more siblings to remind of their place. Just total and utter freedom of responsibility. Iskra would be upset that she had left without so much as a backward glance, but it was the way of Jaylah's bloodline to be flighty, and the way of Kong's to be callous.

Like a big churning whirlpool, Fiam had inherited all that her predecessors had to offer, especially Jaylah's fiery temper. Just like her grandmother, Fiam's very breath could sear and scar, her single red and yellow eye a warning to others that a great bonfire burnt within the chest of the small arctic wolf mix. Iskra was also visible, if only slightly, in the cerulean and green of her other eye, but it was enough to trick a naive onlooker into underestimating both the strength and willpower of the tiny tank. Her ample muscle rippled as she shifted to admire herself, enjoying the way her feminine body arched and curved. Very soon it would be old enough to bear the next generation. This, however, was the last item on the youngster's agenda. First and foremost, she wished to aquire a pack. This need grew and fed the embers at her heart, huffing life into the coals and lending the fatale a drive so formidable others would quake to feel it thrust upon them. Luckily, it was not a burden for others to bear. No, it was entrusted solely to herself, and would do everything in her power to meet the need that flogged the proverbial horse. To begin, she would have to find herself a mentor – somebody skilled in the art of fighting to teach her how to become a moving, breathing weapon. Only after this was done, would she attempt to conquer. The very thought of being in charge thrilled her and she growled under her breath, a great huff of steam rising from her nostrils to rest above her head in the parody of a halo before fading out into the night.

A grouse exploded from the brush to her right, tearing her from her personal reverie and causing her to start so that she overbalanced and toppled into the frigid waters below. For one terrifying moment her head dissapeared beneath the choking waves as they tried to quell the fire within. Alas it was too strong for them, and she burst from the depths in a wreath of droplets, eyes rolling white from shock. It took a few desperate strokes before she reached land, and all her effort was required to haul her sodden body onto solid ground again. Thankfully the winter chill had not pierced her protective coat, although this one blessing did little to calm her frayed nerves. She stood up and shook herself vigorously before a growl escaped her jaws, long and low. Remnants of river weed trailed from her ears and tail, and fury was etched into every line on her face. Woe betide the one that dared approach her now.

OOC-writng this in a rush, a very poor post, but hope it will do for an intro:)

Fiammetta - female – No Home – No Family – 3YO – 22 inches, 32 pounds