Lunar Phases [Closed with Aniya]

[Sam260]

Everglades National Forest, located in Southwestern, Florida was the home to the Crimson Wolf Pack.  The Crimson Wolf Pack was, and still is, the dominating force of the Everglades Forest.  Known for its power and sheer size, The Crimson Wolf Pack had always been feared and respected by the other, smaller, packs in the Everglades - they were the pack you turned to for protection, for food, for pretty much any basic necessity you needed.

That was until the great fire of nineteen ninety eight (1998); the fire wiped out much more than just the Crimson Wolf Pack.  It wiped out a lot of the forest, a lot of the other animals that lived there.  Now, the Crimson Pack, and every other pack along with it, had been downsized dramatically.   After all of the fires had been settled, Parker Thompson took over for the Crimson Pack - It was not his place nor his time, but because the one true member of the Crimson Pack was still too young to take over, it fell upon Parker - the oldest survivor of the Crimson Pack.

Parker was a great leader, for a while.  He was slowly starting to restore the Pack to its former glory; pups were being born right on time and adding to the severely lacking populous that the Crimson Pack needed in order to survive.  Warriors were starting to show themselves more often, standing up to the wildlife that was more predator than prey, even to a shifter pack.  They even had new pack members that had come from the other, smaller, packs that were still alive - The Crimson pack was no longer strictly red-wolf; there was a collection of Grey, White, and Black wolves alike.

Then, suddenly and out-of-nowhere, progress stopped.  Pups were becoming few and far between, Warriors were dying on an almost daily basis.  Parker was becoming greedy and power hungry, wanting to take more and more from the pack whilst he had nothing left to give.  The rightful King, Rusty 'RJ' Jackson, had finally come of age to take over the pack and he had watched, for years, the fall, rise, and fall again of his beloved pack.

Rusty's Great-Grandfather, Grandfather, and Father were all leaders of the Crimson Pack before they died, from either old age or the fire - like his father - and Rusty was the rightful leader of the pack.  Everyone knew it, and everyone welcomed it when Rusty challenged Parker for the title of Pack Master.  Parker, the greedy man that he had become, refused and laughed in Rusty's face, stating he had no claim to the proverbial throne any longer - No one agreed with that statement, however.  Rusty took it upon his own hands, then, and brought Parker down with no more than a few throat-snapping bites.

Once again, the Crimson Pack was under proper Rule.  Rusty Jackson had taken his pack back, and had led them back to their former glory.  Now, that they were doing so well, RJ had absolutely no problems with kicking back and relaxing now that The Crimson Pack, as well as the Everglades National Forest, was back to its former state of Power, Beauty, and Glory.

[Aniya]

Thatcher Wilde, while not a local to the town, was a Florida native. His family was small, consisting of his mother and older sister. The trio had never been part of a proper pack, albeit this was mostly due to the fact that they felt they didn’t need it — the Wilde’s took up refuge in a remote marsh tucked away just north of the Everglades. Their home was far from fanciful; there were holes in the roof, a half-working air conditioning unit, and a foundation which had been crumbling for many years. Despite their situation, however, the Wilde’s were close. The lack of a father figure in Thatcher and Kristin’s life hadn’t impacted them too cruelly, and their mother — Miss Belle, as their far off neighbors liked to call her — was fiercely independent and determined.

The Wilde’s didn’t need anyone else, not when they had each other.

Tragedy did not discriminate, though, and when Thatcher and Kristin both found their mother murdered within the confines of their own home, reeking of the scent of another unfamiliar wolf, they knew they had no choice but to relocate. They buried her, planted a tree above her grave like she said she’d always wanted, and left. Her murder, while reported to authorities, had yet to receive any hard leads. Thatcher moved with Kristin closer to the sweltering Everglades. The area was still home, in a sense, but it would never feel quite the same.
And so, both Thatcher and his sibling put on their bravest faces and forced smiles. With no money to buy or rent any actual home or apartment, the pair now live just along the boundaries of the Everglades, tucked away in a much too small and grimy den.

But it was shelter, and they were shifters, so it wasn’t... horrible.

Both Thatcher and Kristin are relatively new to the immediate area, the murder of their mother having not transpired long ago. Thatcher has always been more optimistic and outgoing than his sister. He is able to hide the grief easier. To anyone who knew him previously, he’s yet to change from his happy-go-lucky personality.

Even in their current situation, residing in a dingy den, Thatcher remains hopeful. He remains pensive. There is no doubt in his mind he and his sister can persevere.

[Sam260]

Rusty - or, formally and informally known as RJ - was used to being in his wolf form; spending almost eight months out of the year in his shifted form.  As the Pack Master to the Crimsons - Rusty had a lot of duties, responsibilities, things of that nature... He hardly ever did them, knowing that his pack - now, rather than a year ago - was more well off and knew what needed to be done in order to get a days work completed.

Which meant he had more time to do what he enjoyed doing.  Lazing about by the stream and soaking up the sun in the meadow by it - the stream was great; it was crystal clear and you could see straight to the bottom.  The meadow was wide open, surrounded by thick and tall pine trees, the stream divided the two meadow sections, a clear indicator of where his territory began and where the 'wild' animals lived.
RJ never had to worry about another animal stepping on his territory and trying to harm him in anyway.  RJ was a full blooded red wolf with rust-colored fur, although he had a slight bit of grey around the muzzle and ears - albeit not from age, it was just a genetic mystery as to how he got grey hair - Fact was, he was quite young to be a Pack Master at only 25, but that was the "reward" he got for destroying the Tyrant Parker.

RJ was almost dire wolf in the fact that he was extremely tall, very broad, and looked like he could snap your neck with just one tooth.  But, in reality, he was more pup-like than anything, having to grow up quickly after the fires destroyed his home, and his family. Although he hadn't become Pack Master then, because he was simply too young, he knew he would one day have to take the reigns back from Parker; it was inevitable, especially when the man started turning greedy and violent.

RJ now laid by the stream, one paw dipped into the cool water as he laid there, eyes closed and ears perked up - despite looking asleep, he was wide awake and always on alert; he had no choice.  It was a survival thing, as well as a pack leader thing; he just had to stay alert, even when he didn't want to. Even when he just wanted to indulge in his inner lone wolf persona, indulge in the puppy inside of his body that just wanted to play and roll in the grass... He still had his responsibilities, but he knew no one would bother him unless absolutely necessary.

[Aniya]

The den was always quiet when Kristin was away. Thatcher wondered where she went sometimes, when all he had to listen to were the far off sounds of birds chirping and crickets singing among the surrounding swampland. He’d never asked, never pressed her for information; it still made him feel guilty though, as if he weren’t doing enough to help his sister cope.

It was long, drawn out days such as these wherein Thatcher had to force himself to get out and just... roam, explore.

Thatcher had only visited the split meadow a handful of times but was careful to stay upon ‘his’ side of the stream. The last thing he needed, or wanted, was trouble with other wolves. Some were especially territorial, and while he liked to think he had fight and spunk in him, an omega of his stature wouldn’t be a challenge to take on.

Thatcher found himself trotting behind the foliage and into the meadow in question without hesitation. He was small in size, easily able to be identified as an omega — if that wasn’t enough, his scent never failed to give his identity away. Thatcher’s coat was a dark brown hue, the color complemented by his feral golden eyes. His fur was unusually thick, holding a bit of curl to it. He didn’t look like a wolf meant to be in a warm climate, but any issues his pelt may have provided didn’t bother Thatcher.

His steps closer to the stream slowed at the sight of another figure, however. Thatcher tensed and released a quiet snort. He glanced to his left, then to his right, and then ahead once more. The demure wolf carefully moved closer after a few moments. His stance was nowhere close to resembling anything threatening. With his tail held high and confidently, Thatcher approached the other from his side of the stream.

“Hangin’ out? You look bored, buddy.” Thatcher joked gently. There was no harm in being conversational, right? Make friends, not enemies.

Both ears perked as Thatcher stepped up to the edge of the stream. His front paws were nearly touching the water. “You know, I’m an expert at—“ And there was he suddenly cut off. Thatcher clumsily fell forward and splashed in a heap into the water. Had his paws slipped? Had he been too distracted? The omega burst through the surface but a second later. Getting soaked hadn’t been on his to-do list.

“—at not being an expert,” he finished sheepishly.

[Sam260]

Rusty's ears twitched when he heard the Omega approaching - his nose, stronger than most of the other wolves - detected this new wolf from quite a distance away, but he knew this new wolf was of no threat to him.  He cracked an eye open just barely, watching as the Omega trotted carefully toward the water's edge.

And then the Omega was falling in and Rusty jumped to his paws, standing at nearly his full human height of six-foot-six in his wolf form, he leaned over easily and plucked the small Omega by the scruff of his neck, careful not to pierce the skin - he didn't want to accidentally start a bonding ritual with someone he didn't even know - he then drug the soaked Omega back onto dry land and flopped down onto his stomach again, as if nothing ever happened.

"You really should watch where you're stepping... The edge is slippery with algae." Rusty commented dryly as he glanced up at the new Omega, a wolfish smirk curving the scarred side of his face.

[Aniya]

Thatcher gave a small, surprised yip when he was drawn up and out of the water. Placed back onto dry land, he turned away from his rescuer and shook his body. Beads of water flung this way and that, flicked free of his curly coat.

“Did I ruin your time by the stream?” he asked curiously, a hint of amusement laced in his tone. Thatcher spared a quick glance back to the stream, as though he intended to purposefully jump back into it again, but ultimately fixed his attention onto the wolf before him.

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “the algae...” Thatcher trailed off, clearly embarrassed. He didn’t elaborate more on the fact that he’d probably just slipped due to his own off balance. “I meant to brag about how I’m an expert fisherman... or, hunter actually.” He gave a curt laugh. “You fish here too?”

[Sam260]

Rusty shook his head and laid his head back down in the thick grass "Nope." he said simply as he rolled over onto his back and stretched his back legs and front legs out before squirming like a worm in the grass.

Once he had cured himself from the scratch on his back, he looked upside down at the Omega and stuck his long tongue out, it over lapped his upside down features, nearly touching the dirt below his head "I just like to lay here... work on my tan..." he teased and pulled his tongue back in his mouth.

"Never seen you here before... You visiting?  New to town? Left your old pack, decide to make your own?" Rusty wagged his tail happily, thumping the large red bushy appendage against the grass; his puppy nature was starting to shine in full-force since he had someone to show off too.

[Aniya]

“Right. Your tan.” Thatcher snorted and shook his head, more water dripping from his muzzle at the movement.

Truth be told, he was a little shocked he’d happened to run across someone so open, someone so ready to /not/ attack him simply because he was a foreign wolf. Despite his outward personality, Thatcher was almost always anxious about new encounters. It hadn’t always been that way, not before his mother’s untimely death.

“Ah... I’m new, s’ppose. Just my sister an’ I.” He huffed. “She’s... out, I think. Got bored m’self, so I thought I’d poke around.” Thatcher tipped his head. “You live around here, I take it?”

[Sam260]

Rusty nodded his large head and flopped back over onto his stomach, butt raised in the air slightly and his tail still wagging happily like an excited puppy "Yeah, I live here... Me and a whole bunch of other wolves... Mixed sort that they are." Rusty said with a snort as dirt filtered up into his nose.

"Should probably tell your sister she shouldn't venture out alone... It's not exactly safe on that side of the river." Rusty said as he pounced his back paws from left to right, he looked like he was gearing up for a fight, but the playful smile and wagging tail suggested he was truly just having fun "Lot of rogue wolves on that side who don't care who they hurt... not to mention the other wild animals that hunt for a real living."

Rusty tilted his head to the side curiously, large ears flopping like a puppies would as he turned it "You should find yourself some protection... at the least... if you're gonna live on the wild side."

[Aniya]

“Huh. Must be nice. It gets pretty... eh... y’know, dull, when it’s just you and a sibling.” Thatcher’s tongue poked out from between his teeth and darted up to quickly lick his nose.

The omega gave another shake of his coat, trying to free it of any extra water it retained. At the other’s words regarding possible attacks, Thatcher’s posture caved slightly and what appeared to be a faint frown curled the corners of his lips. “We haven’t had any issues yet, but I’ll let ‘er know. I doubt she’ll listen to me but—“ He stopped himself before he was able to continue. A brow quirked at the final words from the much larger canid. Thatcher took on a somewhat playful stance then, his long tail flicking from one side to the other.

“Y’know what else I’m an expert at? Fightin’!” He gave the other a large, toothy grin. Whether or not what he stated was true was still up for debate. “Can’t no one take me down, not even a silly rogue wolf.”

Now it seemed evident he was just teasing. Thatcher lowered his front half a little, tail still wagging. “I’d take ‘em all,” he mused.

[Sam260]

Rusty snorted in disbelief and looked at the Omega quizzically "Mhm, sure..." he said doubtfully, lapping at his wet nose with his long tongue. "I'd bet you can't even take down that puny little rabbit who's trying to make his way over to the stream..." Rusty said, nodding his head in the direction of the wild hare that was bouncing across the meadow toward the water.

"If you take that hare down, maybe I'll believe you have a skill or two..." Rusty smirked and stretched his paws out wide, claws retracting and digging into the grass and dirt "If not... Well, I may have to teach you a lesson or two on how to better protect yourself."

Rusty loved a challenge, and this little Omega who was barely half his size was definitely a challenge.  Omega's who think they know the in's and out's of hunting on a daily basis? Well, those were even more fun.  It wouldn't be a losing bet though, Hare's were known to be slower, and the Omega would easily be able to take it down, but still he wondered if the Omega would take up his offer on lessons in protecting himself better - if nothing else, he'd have someone to play with for a few hours before he reluctantly had to head back to the den area.

[Aniya]

Thatcher followed the other’s gaze towards where the hare was bounding in the direction of the stream. He straightened, shifting his weight from one paw to another. “A hare? Oh, child’s play.” With that stated confidence, the omega began across the meadow; his steps were slow and calculated, the brown wolf making sure not to move too quickly less he frightened the critter. Thatcher would lower himself close to the ground, the grass brushing across his underside. There he would remain, statuesque and still, eyes fixed solely upon the hare — then, when he was sure he could reach it in time before it hopped off, he took off at full speed directly for the animal.

Thatcher wasn’t exactly the best hunter despite his previous bragging. If this had been a larger creature, he likely wouldn’t have been able to take it down. The hare, however, was small and, while generally fast, Thatcher was as well.
Within a matter of moments was the hare snatched up into Thatcher’s jaws. Pleased with his display, he would return back to the yet-to-be-named alpha and proudly drop the now dead animal in front of him.

“If that’d been a deer, you might’ve won this bet.” Thatcher cocked his head. “Looks like I’m capable of protecting myself against rabbits, huh?”

[Sam260]

Rusty huffed, watching the grass flutter up at his breath "So you can catch a hare... at least you won't starve." Rusty said mildly as he looked up at the Omega and smiled a little.

He stood up slowly, towering over the small Omega as he stretched out his body and shook his fur out - he looked a lot bigger with his fur puffed out that way, but once it laid back down flat; he still looked big, just not as big.  "If someone who was... my size... came along? Do you think you could protect yourself?" Rusty asked curiously.

He stretched out a little and turned his head to the side as he looked down at the Omega - it was laughable, to see their size differences - Thatcher was heighted at just below Rusty's stomach and chest, while Rusty just simply towered over the Omega like a skyscraper or some other tall object.

[Aniya]

“Hunting is primal. If I wanted ta’really be lazy, I could just wander into the nearest town and snatch a hotdog or something.” Thatcher grinned at his own comment. It was a scenario he’d only been involved in a few times before as he and his family used to always snatch up a few critters from the glades, but in his present situation, it might be something he’d one day actually have to resort to. He didn’t know whether to laugh or pout over that fact.

Thatcher took a tentative step back when the other stood in front of him. He paused, presumably thinking, and then laughed a little. “Maybe! Like this?” Quickly does Thatcher aim to duck beneath the taller canid; his form was slender and lithe, built more so for speed and agility than sheer strength. “I like to think I could scamper off pretty fast if I wanted,” he teased, hoping to pop out behind the alpha without being stopped beforehand. “Flight over fight. I couldn’t /actually/ fight you... or anyone your size.”

[Sam260]

Rusty allowed the small Omega to skirt beneath him, widening his stance to allow for him to get through his back legs.  Once he was on the other side, Rusty twisted quickly, once again facing the small Omega with the full bulk of his body "Being fast is always a good thing... But having a pack is better, don't you think?"

Rusty didn't quite feel like fighting, which was not unusual for the Alpha.  He preferred playing and just joking around, thus he laid back down on his belly and chest, looking up at the Omega "If you're afraid of trusting a pack... you don't have to worry about The Crimson Pack... They may be a bit crazy, but they aren't very aggressive unless provoked." Rusty raised his shoulder blades - reminding Thatcher of a human who would shrug like that.

[Aniya]

“I mean... maybe. Probably. I’ve never been in a pack before, never needed t’be before I moved out here.” Thatcher sat down easily, tail swiping left and right across the grass of the meadow. “It might be cool, but ah... I dunno, I’d have to get my sister on board.” He paused for a moment. “She’s a lil’ off it right now.” That seemed to be the only explanation he’d offer on the matter as the topic of his sibling didn’t come up again.

Thatcher hummed softly at the other’s reassurance. “S’that the only pack around here? I haven’t run into a lot of wolves in the glades too much. Anyone I should... look out for in the meantime?” The few he had encountered had been unusually friendly, or simply paid him no mind; Thatcher was great at keeping to his own business. “What’s your name? We’ve been talkin’ but I never got your name.” His expression brightened a bit. “I’m Thatcher.”

[Sam260]

Rusty tilted his head 'Off it' the omega said... What did that even mean? Oh well, bygones and all - he wasn't worried about what his sister's temperament was like, just as long as she could provide like everyone else in the pack did "Even if she doesn't officially join up with us - we'll still protect her. That is, if you join us." Well that sounded oddly cryptic and rather cult-like, but the words were out there and the Omega seemed reluctant to speak about his sister much more so Rusty allowed the topic to drop.

"Only pack on this side of the river, anyhow. We're the largest one, even after the fires... Everyone was cut down in size after that. Most either went rogue or joined other packs simply for the structure, and eventually they all just started merging with Crimson's." Rusty once again shrugged his broad wolf-shoulders and sighed. "Only ones you really got to look out for are the rogue pack up north a lil' ways. They were the followers of the old leader of The Crimson Pack, and wouldn't change ways when the new leader came about."

Rusty, of course, was talking about himself, but the young Omega didn't know that - at least not yet. He wondered if giving away his name would be the indicator to Thatcher that he was in fact speaking to the Pack Leader of the Crimson Pack. It wasn't a far cry from possible - he was rather 'famous' in a sense, even to wolves who knew nothing about the pack. "Name's Rusty..." he looked up at Thatcher curiously "Rusty Jackson... Or, most people just call me RJ - Rusty is for when I get into trouble... which is often."

[Aniya]

“Us?” He paused for a moment, expression quizzical and ears tilted somewhat, before what Rusty had said finally seemed to click in his head. “Oh! Y’mean it’s your pack? Made it sound like you were just mentionin’ them or something.” The only acknowledgement he gave on behalf of the comment regarding his sister was a nod. He didn’t know what she would think, or if she’d even want to join a pack at all — their family had always been fiercely independent, but that didn’t seem to do them any favors when it came to their mother. It sounded like a great idea, safety and generally having others around, but Thatcher wouldn’t leave his sibling behind, and that’s really what it all came down to.

His lip curled in displeasure upon hearing about rogue packs. “Yeah, I try’ta stay away from ‘em if I can. Minding your own business doesn’t promise exclusion from harm nowadays, does it?”

As if trying to lighten the mood, Thatcher laughed gently at the comment of getting into trouble often. “Me too! ‘cept only difference is I don’t have a pack I gotta suffer the consequences under.” A snicker was issued as he finished. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Rusty. Think I’m gonna stick with that. Getting into trouble is way more fun than being prim and proper.” Thatcher lifted a paw dramatically, and then another, like imitating someone trying to elegantly prance around. “Swear I’ve heard that name before somewhere... or maybe it’s jus’ so different I think I have.” He shrugged. “What d’you do in the pack? Hunter? Scavenger? I presume they have roles, right?”

[Sam260]

Rusty shook his head about the rogue packs "They like to try and get other's to see their views, not thinkin' about anything but themselves... There is no independence there."

At the mention that Thatcher would prefer to call him Rusty, he made a face and shook his head "I really prefer being called RJ... But if you insist upon calling me Rusty, I guess I'll have to deal with it." RJ said as he laid back down, moving his paw back and forth over the blades of grass.

Tucking his nose underneath large paws, RJ sighed heavily and looked up at Thatcher, blinking a couple of times.  Of course the young Omega had heard his name - it was widely popular in Florida, and even surrounding states.  He was known as the youngest Alpha Pack Leader in the south, and he hated that people knew him.  It was like being a celebrity, except without all of the money.

"I uh..." he shrugged wolfish shoulders and frowned slightly - not that you could see it under his paws - "I've got a lot of roles in the pack... I hunt, I protect, I fight..." He just didn't know how to avoid saying 'I lead' - it was inevitably going to come out between them, and he didn't know how much longer he could keep lying by omission to the younger Omega; he actually quite liked Thatcher "I'm..." he paused and huffed loudly "the pack leader..." he whispered, hoping maybe Thatcher would miss the words completely.

[Aniya]

Thatcher tipped his head forward in a small nod. “Mmh, yeah.” He’d never worried himself too much about packs, but this was definitely news to pass onto his sister. She liked to wander, and while she could certainly hold her own in a scuffle, the last thing Thatcher wanted was to come across her injured somewhere... or worse. Neither of them needed a repeat of the tragedy that had occurred not so long ago.

“What, ‘s Rusty like a secret name?” he grinned, tail perked and swishing behind him in a playful manner. Both of his ears swiveled forward as he listened to the other talk. Fortunately, or maybe not so fortunately for RJ, Thatcher’s hearing was on point, and he didn’t miss any word the alpha spoke, even the last mumbled bit.

He barked out a laugh, hopped once in clear excitement. “Ah! I know ya! That’s why that name sounds so familiar!” Thatcher eventually sat back down, the grass splayed beneath his figure. “Well, I don’t know ya, but I recognize the name. In fact, I think my sister was the one who told me ‘bout you. Some upstanding alpha in Florida — that’s about all I got though, I used to not be bothered watching the news or what have you.” His eyes remained alit with intrigue. “What’s it like being a leader? How many people ya got in your pack?” Having never been involved in a pack in the entirety of his life, it was only natural for the young omega to have questions about what it was like to be in one.