Hushed Willows This is not the end

Since the initial rumblings of the earth that unsettled Elysium's wolves, things had drastically changed. The scarcity of prey throughout the territory suggested the approach of something far more threatening than Winter, and Dacio feared that the park's current leaders and their gentle nature would not see them survive whatever catastrophe might sweep over.

A fresh tremor beneath his feet, louder and more startling than before, only heightened his concerns. The ashen yearling arched his proud tail, hackles bristling with fear and frustration as he furrowed his brow and paced the area on which he stood, studying the trembling stones and grasses as though glaring might cease this unexplained movement.

When at last it did, Dacio remained on edge. He was a weapon, wasted among these gentle creatures who were entirely unprepared for the storm that was coming, and he couldn't handle the stress of knowing he could be beneficial.

Sunny's call went up, and the young warrior began toward it at once, recalling how the sterling leader had withdrawn himself. "I run things around here," Dacio recalled his first greeting when he and his sister arrived on their borders, and curled his lip that such a statement had been disproven so swiftly.

That howl had been meant only for a select few, but that didn't matter to Dacio. He went to Sunny with the sole purpose of removing the title he failed to uphold, all fangs bared and guard hairs on edge, posture confident and tail curled over marred haunches to clearly communicate his intention to challenge despite the arrival of others - one he would've recognised as natrona if he'd bothered to look her way.