Ravensblood Forest i asked the coppers on our payroll

“Ceannasach,” Olive echoed softly.  The word dripped off her tongue, the sound thick and viscous. It was a beautiful word, no doubt. It felt weighty with meaning, but alas the language was unknown to her.  “Thank you, Ceannasach. …and what would you call a wolf like me, a newcomer to Teaghlaigh?” The question was sincere and Olive was not abashed to admit her ignorance in this area. She had been introduced to the basics of wolf formality and tradition, but the nuances were so variable from pack to pack.  She still had a lot to learn. 

The mention of the word family caused the femme to prick her ears at her speckled grey crown. Olive shifted her weight and leaned forward in palpable interest. She may be quite innocent on the subject of mandates and laws of packhood, but she knew family. Olive lived and breathed family. 

The pack of her birth and adolescence had been small. It had been no more than her father, mother and two brothers. A lean group of five that traversed massive tracts of land in order to find food, as the parents were too preoccupied with their growing children to defend a territory. They were constantly on the move and teamwork was essential to survival. She had explored much of the world with her small family and had forged very strong ties with each wolf. They were fiercely loyal; partially because they had to be (as lone wolves and blood family), but more so because there was an inherent respect that ran quite deeply. It was this  consciousness that had kept her with her family for so long - something that Olive didn’t realize she missed. 

Nestled upon these memories, Olive was suddenly overwhelmed with indebtedness to Teaghlaigh, to the wolf Furiosa that she had met on Silvertip Mountain and to Ceannasach that stood in front of her. Olive recognized that Teaghlaigh’s 'family' was different than what she had grown up with (to be a part of this family, you first had to prove yourself), but the essence was the much same. Olive simpered to herself and swept her gaze up to look at Arturo again.  Her grey, bannerlike tail swept out behind her in a slow, fond wag. 

“Though I am not a warrior and cannot offer you much in the way of brute strength, I have other skills that can be useful.” She was sinewy and petite - not necessarily the build that nascent packs coveted. “I want to know how I can best serve the wolves of Teaghlaigh.”