Post by gwynneth4life on Apr 19, 2016 19:53:49 GMT -5
Allora ran through the Crooked Back Ridge, the wind whipping at her face, she had been observing the clans for a while. She'd not ever known her heritage, but was absolute that the Outermost was not a place for her. In search of her parents she'd ventured in there and came out with alarming wolves actually trying to eat her. Now that Allora was positive that her parents had to be in one of the clans of wolves, she made her way to what she'd heard them call the MacDuncan clan. Cover was not a problem since she had never found out why other creatures were always so intent on letting others know there presence. Maybe she was extra careful, or it was maybe because she had inherited it from her parents but unless she was being stupid, no one would ever know she was there. Allora had wanted to be the one who howled stories in the night, but she knew there were different ranks. She had seen a (supposedly) orphaned and deformed pup make it's way back to a camp. They had accepted him, but he was ruthlessly abused and Allora was sure she didn't want to be a part of that. Instead she wanted to howl beautiful things in the nights, to make others eyes grow teary, to run with a pack of wolves. She wasn't deformed and she didn't believe she was orphaned, but would they treat her like the poor little wolf being mortifyingly beaten up before her. Or would they let her prove her place in the clan. The whimpering little wolf wasn't helping.