Silvertip Mountain Bound by the world
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#1

It was time. His children were over four months old, past the halfway line to adulthood, and their names needed to be bound. This was a ritual that had gone back generations. The name bestowed upon them as infants wasn't always true and at this stage in life they had an incline of themselves, had an idea of who they would be better than any moment.

This was the time his children took their own name and bound it to them.

He awoke them in the middle of the night, excited to lead his little joys through this momentous occasion and determine what they saw for themselves. This would be a name that they should hold deep to themselves and share only with the ones who could be trusted enough. Trusted to never give it away - a lot of power could be held in a name.

FitzDutiful walked his children to the waterfall, he had told them nothing about this event except that it was part of growing up and his family's tradition.
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#2
Mason was extremely excited. He padded after his father in the moonlit night, following as close as he could in his Dad’s pawprints. He didn’t know what they were about to do, but he knew that it was extremely important to Fitz and therefore it was extremely important to him. He wanted to make his father proud.

He wasn’t particularly nervous – Fitz never asked too much of him, and therefore he presumed he could manage whatever needed to be done. Mason danced forwards to nip at his father’s tail. He couldn’t wait to see where they were going. He moved to one side so that he could peer past his Dad’s large form, waiting to see what would loom out of the starlight glow that brushed the earth.
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#3
June wasn't quite what was going on but Mason's excitement fed hers. She allowed herself to start bounding about as they left the den in the middle of the night, despite her exhaustion at the broken sleep. She copied Mason the entire way up, stepping in her father's paw-prints because he was doing so as well. It was times like these where she was glad she had learnt how to walk with her elongated figure.

"What going on?" she asked as Mason nipped at their father's tail and looked to see where they were. June also looked, though it was the noise that helped her identify where they were. On her numerous escapades through the pack lands she had come up to the waterfall. It had been terrifying and she had immediately run away. Now it seemed she would have to confront the waterfall with it's sound of water pounding on water.
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#4
Walking them up to the waterfall was slightly terrifying, in such a good way. He had never thought to be able to perform this tradition by himself. When they arrived, Mason just stared at the scene and June asked what was going on. He allowed himself a smile at them both, sitting down at the edge of the water.

"There is a tradition that runs through my family. When we are your age we pick a name. One that we tell to no other but those that we trust with our lives. Our name is a trait, emotion, feeling, something that we wish to uphold. Here, at the boundary between water and earth we bind that name to ourselves."

It was a big thing that he was asking of them and he hoped they understood the commitment.

"Enter the water, then once you've decided upon your secret name, let me know. But don't say your name yet. I'll tell you when the time is right."
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#5
The waterfall was a magnitude of water, cascading violently over the edge. Mason’s eyes widened and he shifted nervously. He had no problem with puddles, but this was a very big puddle indeed. Father went and sat right next to the water, which was never still, always moving as the fall from above crashed upon its surface and sent ripples to the furthest edges of the pool. 

He listened carefully to his father’s explanation of why they were here. The voice was harder to hear over the roar of the waterfall but he managed with his keen ears. Mason glanced wide-eyed at June, then back at his Dad. These were the two people he trusted among all others, it was true. 

Mason lifted himself up from his seated position and patted one nervous paw upon the pool’s surface. It felt cool but not too cold to his wolfish fur. Mason took a deep breath, glanced at Fitz, then stepped into the pool. The roar of the waterfall seemed to grow louder, until it felt like a bear was at his back. Mason teetered nervously with all four paws now in the water, and it tickling the white strands that hung down from his belly. 

“Now, Dad?” he queried over the noise. He wasn’t even sure what name he was supposed to be picking. What did he aspire to be? Fitzdutiful?
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#6
The water was terrifying - especially for one so small but Mason didn't seem afraid as he patted the water, and so June happily copied him. It was colder than she had been expecting. She had never fully submerged herself into water before and she couldn't say she was excited by the idea either.  As Mason walked in, June followed and water that only just scraped his stomach enveloped hers. It almost reached her chin, but their father had chosen well and she wasn't struggling to breath.

Listening to her father she loved the idea. She recalled the two instances she'd had where she had had to give a name and hadn't giving it out. Then she had taken humility to be her true name, but that was seemingly unfitting. Mason was more humble than she was. No, she needed a new name as she thought carefully about what she wanted to be.

Her father had asked them to let him know when they were ready, but she wasn't ready. Neither was Mason it appeared. She looked at him, wondering how she would figure it out.
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#7
He watched as they both entered the water and wondered if he was forgetting something. It had been so long since he had had his own ritual, and usually it was accompanied by pack elders. What if he was doing something wrong? He looked at both of his children, and the memory jolted back of how he had chosen his name.

"I am Trustworthy." he said, his voice containing the sounds of ritualism in them. " son of Sparrow and now it is time for you to find your names. Close your eyes, empty your mind. Let the sounds, senses, feelings envelop you and highlight something that stands out. When you have found the thing that draws you above everything else, step on the dry earth - announcing your name as come forward."

FitzDutiful was still worried. What if they were still too young? He had known nothing of this ritual when he had done it, but he remembered staying there for the entire night before he had something he felt happy about claiming. Would these two find it so hard as well?
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#8
Mason was a bit nervous about June being in the water – she was much smaller than himself and she barely seemed above the water that spilled along her back. He kept a close watch on her small, white head bobbing above the surface like a duck. She also looked a bit perplexed at having to choose a secret name. Mason was what his family and friends called him, Virtue was something he was striving towards, as his Father had explained to him, but now he needed a third name.

Mason listened in awe as FitzDutiful spoke again, this time with a sudden authority that he only ever usually used at pack meeting. Mason’s ears flickered back against his head at the significance of the ceremony. He dutifully closed his eyes and thought about what he strived to be. Ok, so he couldn’t actually be FitzDutiful but that was who he aspired to be like. Someone who was an Alpha, and took control and care of their charges. Tended everyone – weak or strong – and shepherded them as a flock. 

Mason felt a pull to his pack, but also to the lands that he had always called home. He felt the earth call to him when he stepped out on Silvertip Mountain, and he had explored every nook and cranny until he knew the lands around his den better than anyone. Perhaps he was not the most adventurous outside the pack, and he had not yet moved across its boundaries, but this was simply because his wanderlust and sense of adventure related only to the place he called home. 

That was it – he knew.

Orange eyes snapped open, gleaming with determination against soft white cheeks. Mason’s ears pricked back up with confidence, dusty tips brushing the moonlit sky. He fixed his sights on the shore. Moving with sudden wisdom and ease beyond his months, Mason ghosted silently through the water back towards his father. The paw he lifted first was the one which sported that unusual mottled sock containing his mothers’ genes. His mother wasn’t here anymore, but his Father was.  

His paw pressed down onto the dirt and he opened his mouth to sing the words in a clear youthful voice that cut through the darkness “I am Ranger, first son of Trustworthy.” And he moved onto the bank fully, shaking the excess water from his fur and turning to wait for June to give them her true name.
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#9
Mason had his name and June watched with amazement at the way he stepped out of the water. He seemed a different wolf, Ranger. It suited him and she saw as he seemed to grow up with having this name that he had chosen himself. But what for her? What things did she value?

She loved the concept of the secret name, the idea that one thing was bound to her. She truly believed that names had power, that a true name in use would bind you to accomplish the task that the user of the name required. She had hated everyone knowing her name was June and had secretly called herself Humility - but that wasn't her. She wasn't humble, not truly. She believed in the mysterious but that wasn't quite her either.

"I am Mystic, daughter of Trustworthy." She made her step onto the river bank and the water seemed to weigh her down. For the briefest of seconds she feared that she had named herself wrong and the water was holding her hostage but instead it ceded to her will. Maybe that was why father had brought them here, the cleansing of the water and the fight to go from wet to dry had felt binding. It had felt significant.

She shook herself off and looked to them both, wondering if she took looked older. She felt older. She felt more significant - a part of a bigger picture.
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#10
It seemed as though his worries were unfounded as one by one his children found their names and pronounced them proudly before stepping onto the land. he watched, remembering how to had felt to take that first step and was pleased that they had managed to do what he had struggled with at their age.

As each stepped from the land he greeted them traditionally, "Mason, the Earth recognises you as Ranger and greets you as such. June, the Earth recognises you as Mystic and greets you as such." With that it was over. He hoped he hadn't forgotten any aspect of it and he couldn't be sure that the wording was exact but it was the best he could do. That's all he tried to do for his children - the best that he could.

Smiling at them, he looked at his grown up children wondering when they had got so big. Turning he began to lead them back to the den, if they wanted to come. They were adolescents to him now, if they wanted to stay up longer so be it. He no longer ruled their every move his only job was to ensure they stayed safe and wanted for nothing.
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#11
June’s name suited her to a T - Mystic. He watched with brotherly adoration as she hesitated on the bank, then stepped out of the water to be encompassed by air once more. He shook his own long fur, and returned to his usual dandelion-puff state. Dad uttered some more rites and then it appeared to be done. Mason AKA Virtue AKA Ranger was ready to go. He was starting to feel tired.

Although their father had never brought them up in a clingy manner, they had always been a close family unit since mother left, and therefore when Fitz got up to leave, Mason followed on his heels, motioning for his little sister to follow. Back to home, back to bed, to dream about the time when he would one day be Ranger – pack leader of Silvertip Mountain.
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#12
June was tired, tired but pleased to have gone through this. She wondered how Mason felt about the entire thing and vowed to find a moment to talk to him about it, seriously. She loved the idea so much that she wanted any children she had to take it forward too. Would he?

As they walked back to the den, she pondered a lot of thoughts and feelings about her future. She had never really thought about it before but now she was, she found herself realising that she had no idea what she wanted to do. Did she want to stay here forever and learn trades, or did she want to go to a different pack, or did she want to rule her own pack? Would she go somewhere without Mason? The thought terrified her and she determined that she would possibly just follow him wherever he might go.