Aim of the game (Denali/open)

[Snowflame]

Sunlight shone down upon the small, lush woodland, making the green leaves shimmer with the morning dew still on them. The woods were alive with the plaintive sound of a myriad of birds, chirping and singing away on their quest for food. Their lives were so simple, so easy going compared to her own, and she envied them for it. They got to stay in flocks of themselves, while she, the lonely she-cub, alone and sad, was left without a friend in the world. True, she had her ever loyal pack, Koran, but she barely knew anybody in there, and if she did, how would they like her? Her birth pack had been desimated by the hateful and feared Balkar, but only her brother Freki and herself had escaped. Frightened and confused, they had travelled South, only to be seperated, and they would probably never see each other again. A mournful howl escaped her ajar pale maw, and her pale grey fur bristled as she raised her head towards the open sky.

Snowflame gradually stopped and looked around wearily at the small, secluded clearing that she was currently resting in. Her icy blue laterns blazed furiously at the blinding sun, and begged it to go away. Nothing could comfort her these days, not when she was haunted by the blood and gore she had witnessed at the hands of that pack, which had presumably scarred her for life mentally. A shiver ran down her spine, and she cuddled up, and quietly apologised to the sun god for her rudeness, and contemplated her thoughts as she absently groomed herself. Whispers of dark clouds were beginning to form above her, so she knew rain was not far away. Sighing deeply, she curled up and rested her weary head onto her muddy paws, and gradually fell into a pitiful sleep.

[denali]

Denali pced theough the trees, her paws crunching on pine needles and sunlight dappling her tan, black, and white pelt. She sighed and turned around twice, then laid down with a heave of sharp breath. She closed her eyes and tried to rest, but her mind swam with uncomfortable pictures: a blinding whiteout that seemed so real she could almost feel the cold seeping through her shaggy pelt, her daughter calling her and dissapearing into the white.
She growled in pain and stood up, pine needles falling from her coat as she shook. She looked into the bright sun, hoping it would blind her so she couldn't see the imbearable images. But no, it was too bright for her; she couln'd do it. So she ran.
Running had always helped her. She used to love it. Now it did nothing. She ran until she got to a small clearing. She stopped there, barely even panting, even though she had ran quite a ways. Cocking her head and swiveling her ears, she caught the sound of the she-cub's breathing before she saw the pale grey body curled up at the base of a tree. Tenderly, Denali trotted up and investigated her.

[Snowflame]

In her sleep arose a new horror.

The small mountain cave far in the North of the land held a small, tight-knit pack, her birth pack. Snowflame and her brothers frollocked harmlessly outside on the snowy slope, and her father watched for danger. As night fell, they retreated to the cave, but Freki insisted that they explore his secret place. Reluctantly, Snowflame and Lowell followed him, but heard a comotion when returning not long afterwards. Fear engulfed them, and they returned, all three of them, to view the dead bodies of the small pack, including their dying mother and father, frantically trying to reach each other before dying. A leering, male wolf stood nearby, and before they knew it, he had swiped at Lowell and killed him, his throat slashed. Horrified, Snowflame helped her mother closer to her father, but her father died before she could reach him. Anguish welled inside her, and as her mother died, she ran and ran and ran far, far away not knowing that Freki was following. Finally, they met, and howled and mourned and sang songs of their pack all night long. . .

Snowflame leapt from the ground and gasped and panted, anger welling up inside her. Panting as if she had run a thousand miles, Snowflame recoiled as she spotted an older looking, tan, black and white female looking at her nearby. Snowflame's pale pelt blended into the ground as she collapsed and fainted.

[denali]

Denali watched the cub toss in her sleep, sure she was dreaming but curious of what would make her thrash so badly in her sleep. Suddenly the cub jumped up, gasping, and finally fainted. Consern washed over her like a wave, chilling her from nose to tail. A new wave of motherly instinct followed shortly after, warming her with excitement of having someone to care for once again. Though something hurt her inside at the thought that her daughter as alone without her guidence, she worked quickly.
Denali trotted towards the creek she had seen earlier and lapped up some cold water. Then she returned just as quickly to the cub and let the water trickle onto the cub's muzzle. She hoped that once the cub got past the fact that some strange female had spat on her that she would be grateful that Denali had cared to help her revive.
Where she used to live, a faint could be deadly in the way of two reasons: It drained strength, and usually the cause of a faint was fairly traumatizing. She concluded that if the cub could faint from a dream, the dream must have been bad. After all, she would know.

[Snowflame]

Something trickled onto her maw, which stirred her and awoke her from her faint. Blinking, she gazed up at the older female wolf, and examined her curiously. Her tan, black and white pelt was quite an odd mixture in these lands, but Snowflame didn't pester the thought, as she rose to her paws, her ivory fur covered in dirt. Smiling hesitantly, Snowflame padded over to the female, whom had revived her, and mumbled a few words, " Thank you," She then lowered her gaze to the ground in embarrasment, trying to steady her heart beat. Nearby, a crow cawed, frightening her slightly, but she was still in a daze from her memoir.

Snowflame glanced back at the older female and cleared her throat slightly, and said in a clear voice, " My name is Snowflame, a cub of the Koran pack, travelling these lands for a while. Whom, may I ask, are you?" she spoke not unkindly, but her orbs held genuine curiousity, for this fae had helped her, and for that, Snowflame liked her.