The Sunspire the next generation

I was hoping Ame might pop in here. ^__^

The wolf—decidedly feminine—descended from her domain. Her stance was that not just of a resident, but of a leader. Her question was a simple one, and one he was more than willing to answer. And so he responded as he always did. "My name is Ovaltine Driftwood. Does this magnificent mountain have a name?" Of course, he did try to personalize that question a little bit each time. Some wolves required more flattery, others might appreciate the gesture. He hoped that she fell into one of those categories—or if he was really lucky: both.

A tickle upon his nose caused him to snap at the air, though he failed to catch the fly that seemed insistent on bugging him. (Pun intended!) At times, flies were a sign of the dead, but Ovaltine was far from it. At four years old, he was what some might call "prime." The only problem was that he was using these golden years to be a weirdo and go around bugging all the packs he came into contact with.