Silver Creek out for a paddle

It was fair enough that Heston had not yet been granted with the pack's history — he was new, after all, and likely his time here so far had been taken up by introductions and small talk. But it was also fair that he learn it. This history was no secret, and as long as Shreya kept out her subjective opinions the story would be far from controversial.

Alright, she said, and began to walk a bit further towards the bank, nearing the shallows as a breeze caught up and the river got just a little bit choppier.

I came to Phoenix Maplewood, the aforementioned land to the northeast, late in the winter of this year, though it feels longer ago. I settled there to retire, but things weren't that peaceful. There was discord not only between our two Alphas, but between two packs — the Maplewood itself and a pack beyond the river. The wolves of the Maplewood were strong, but not as strong as those of our rival pack, who valued their muscle and gall.

It wasn't long before the tensioned snapped. Not only did our Alpha Male leave, but he allied with our rivals — a sore betrayal. Our Alpha Female made a judgement call and deemed it too risky to throw ourselves into all-out war, especially with young puppies in our midst. So we left. And along the road, a plague struck — the locust plague, which you will have experienced yourself in your travels. By the time we found this secluded territory, our peaceful Silver Creek, there was not a drop of green to be found. But there was water, and there were fish, and, in time, we thrived. The old wolf gazed out over the territory, to which green was fast returning. And thrive still.