<font color=636362>Ours Is The Fury</font>

Rhaegal

Over the course of the last couple of months, things had become rather hectic in Spirane. The vast majority of his mother's time was taken by pack business. Between the Angels taking haven within the mountains after that idiot Convent or Covert (or whatever the heck his name was) had exiled them from Diveen, and the wolves who had been attacked by a wolf who apparently thought he was some kind of god, she'd not been able to spend nearly as much time with her four young dragons as she usually would. Even with the Angels having finally been able to return home, Daenerys was kept busy ensuring the pack's safety. Rhaegal didn't mind so much, he and his brothers had always been more than capable of finding their own ways of entertaining themselves. It wasn't like Daenerys had sanctioned the trip they'd made to Iromar with the girls and that killjoy Arthfael. He couldn't very well see what it was that Viserion liked about him so much. In Rhaegal's opinion, he was much too worried about following all the rules and being super careful all the time. What was the fun in that? Nearing his second birthday, Rhaegal was quickly transforming from an adventurous young boy to the type of teenager that liked to see how far he could push the boundaries before he really got into trouble.

On this sunny and completely uneventful autumn day, Rhaegal was stretched out, blocking the entrance to the family den. He was bound and determined to catch Drogon or Viserion unawares as they returned to the den, and then maybe they could go find something to do together. But as the midmorning sun soaked into his pelt the power of its heat lulled him into a relaxed posture, his head lowering to rest on his paws and eyelids half closing to shield his mismatched eyes against the glare of the sun. And before he knew it, he was snoozing, still half conscious but mostly unawares of the world around him. Dreams and memories danced fleetingly before his eyes, reliving the day they'd gone to Iromar, but with a little touch of grandeur added to the mix. Instead of the Iromarian pack taking down the alligator, it was Rhaegal, his brothers, and Bastille. Nearby Arthfael was preaching that they needed to be quieter, that this was not Spirane's prey and that surely the group was going to get caught.

A single charcoal ear twitched at the sound of a very familiar voice, and for a second it was just her in the dream, calling him back to help her take down the alligator once and for all. Hazily he realized that the voice was very much so a real one, and all at once he came fully awake and his head popped up off his paws. Already his tail brushed back and forth across the earth, and as soon as his eyes alighted upon her he was jumping to his feet. If he wanted to have fun today, he wasn't going to get a better opportunity than this one. "Hey, Bastille!" he said with a devilish grin, already cooking up a bit of mischief for them. With the thought of that day in Iromar fresh in his mind, he jogged up to Bastille and extended his nose to touch briefly against her cheek in the way that they'd greeted each other since they first met. As he withdrew his brows popped and he said, "Wanna go teach that Arthfael kid how to have some fun with me?" You know, as if Arthfael was younger than them and was unaware of what real fun was like.

Of course he knew she would agree, and so together they set off towards the den where Rhaegal knew the other boy lived. He'd never visited him there before, but Viserion went there often enough that he'd figured around about where it was. When they got closer, Rhaegal slowed and began to creep forward, trying to keep himself as hidden as possible in the surrounding foliage. As it were, he didn't really need to sneak at all. Arthfael was nowhere to be seen, and pricked ears could not detect a single sound of moving paws. Of course there was the possibility that he was inside the den, but Rhaegal couldn't hear anything of lupine origin coming from the den site. His unique eyes glanced over the area, first noticing a rather tempting pile of bones laying at the base of the tree, and only then spotting the beautiful pelt laying out in the sun. He looked to his side, brows lifting in that charming and devious way that the so often did as he grinned at Bastille, as if to say, 'Shall we?' Only when Bastille had realized what he meant and was ready to continue would he move forward, creeping out into the clearing. As he came to the den's mouth he peered inside, finding it empty, and relaxed.

Practically strutting over to the beaver pelt, Rhaegal circled the prize that they'd found. What if they took it and hid it? All in good fun, of course. Gesturing with his nose at the pelt, his eyes turned up towards Bastille, suggesting that she grab the pelt. He, of course, would be her guard in case Arthfael showed up unexpectedly and went into some sort of tizzy. Unable to quite help himself entirely, Rhaegal dashed over to the tree and grabbed succulent bone, circling back to Bastille to see if she'd found a good way to carry the pelt. He would leave it up to her if she wanted to stick around and watch to see how much fun Arthfael would have when he came back and found that he'd need to go on some kind of scavenger hunt to get his pelt back, or if she just wanted to take off and stow the thing in some obscure location on the mountain, or really do whatever. It didn't matter too much to Rhaegal, his maw parted in a wide grin by the bone he carried. After all, he was having far too much fun.

one -- no heart -- no soul -- young dragon -- spirane

html by castlegraphics; image by r-e-d-xx

AbhorsenThe Wielder

Nymeria

DyrimThe Speaker

None

BelgaerThe Thinker

Kalseru

SaranethThe Binder

Vortigern

AstaraelThe Weeper

None

ClayrThe Seer

Moonfeather

KibethThe Walker

None

ScionIn Waiting

None

MosraelThe Waker

Yuki

CharterThe Power

None

RannaThe Sleeper

None

AmbassadorsDiplomats

Viserion, Myrcella

ShinersHealers

Eldrax

FalconersHunters

Rhaegal, Tychon, Alagai, Paxton, Visenya

BerserkersWarriors

Drogon, Icarus

OutridersScouts

Greywind, Rhaenys, Arthfael

MagesThieves & Spys

Bastille, Samus

RemembrancersCaretakers & Historians

Dandelion, Semele

EldersHonored Retirees

Daenerys, Sleekwing, Tyrion

KinfolkThe Pack

M�l�e, Ashitaka
Emer, Bran, Jabari, Vaella, Cadeyrn, Berwyn, Nerys, Jubilee, Ashur, Reine, Icarus, Kricket, Navarre, Leilani, Jakuta

BairnsPuppies

None

AmateursIn Training

Vhagar

NehimaAllies

Diveen

YraelGuests

None

OrannisEnemies

None

The TombsOur Fallen Family

MoonGlow, Alcide, Sorcha, Fjallraven,
Pan, Grayson, Ravenna, Niviaq

News 08.08.2021 Change was long overdue in Spirane. Now that I have learned who is still an active presence within the pack, the ranks have been updated. As I once took time away from the pack, so too now shall Kalseru. Know that she is still second in command of the pack, as is reflected in her rank. Once you are familiar with the new ranking system, if you would like to change positions or move up in the ranks you need only ask. Let this be a time of new life in Spirane, and a promise of great things to come!

When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.
- - Nymeria

❥ Pregnant | ^ Pending Promotion | ✘ Stolen | Away

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**Any position may be challenged for at any time. Please privately contact Nymeria and she will decide the type and style of challenge appropriate to the rank.

Abhorsen - The Wielder: Alpha female and Queen of Spirane. Her word is final in all matters. Vows to protect and lead those who call the mountain home.

Her Council
Belgaer - The Thinker: Second in Command, this wolf is the Abhorsen's most trusted compatriot and confidant. In the Abhorsen's absence, they are able to speak with her authority.
Saraneth - The Binder: Chosen mate of the Abhorsen. They can settle pack disputes, accept members, assign tasks, and leads the pack during hunts, in times of war, or in cases where the Abhorsen is not present.
Scion - The Successor: The Abhorsen's heir, training to one day fill her paw prints. This wolf must become adept in multiple trades. This wolf is expected to become proficient in healing, fighting, hunting, diplomacy, and thievery. They are expected to lend assistance to any of the other ranks if ever needed.

The Bells
Dyrim - The Speaker: Lead diplomat and is often times sent out to maintain good relations with allied packs. Charged with educating the Ambassadors in diplomatic ways.
Astarael - The Weeper: The commander and lead warrior of the pack. Charged with teaching the Berserkers the art of battle.
Clayr - The Seer: Charged with the pack's health, and in teaching the Shiners and those who wish to pursue the art of healing.
Kibeth - The Walker: The leader of the Guard. They are the foremost line of defense, charged with securing the borders and bringing pertinent information from within and without the pack to the appropriate wolf. They also lead the Outriders.
Ranna - The Sleeper: Assists the queen in guarding from theft as well as advising her of news and gossip from the whole of Moladion. Charged with teaching the Mages about theft, secret keeping, and overall sneakiness. Allowed to make and block steals.
Mosrael - The Waker: Caretaker and storyteller of the pack, also the head pupsitter. Often times this wolf will look after the pack's youth and educate them of Spirane and Moladion's history. Leads the Remembrancers in pup watching.
Charter - The Power: The master hunter of the pack. Leads and organizes all hunts and teaches the Falconers the art of the hunt.

The Classes
Berserkers: Warriors and hunters of the pack.
Falconers: The pack hunters
Mages: Thieves and secret keepers of the pack. Allowed to make and block steals.
Ambassadors: Diplomats of the pack.
Shiners: Healers of the pack.
Outriders: The pack scouts who bring all news of happenings across Moladion back.
Remembrancers: Wolves of a kind nature who look after the younger wolves of the pack. These wolves may wish to learn more about healing, but this is not a requirement.
Bairns: The young pups of the pack
Amateurs: Youth of the pack still finding their place

Kinfolk: The general populance of the pack
Elders: Respected retirees who still offer wisdom and insight

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