Lightning Pack's History

The Founding: Oat's Story

Oat was born to lone she-wolf, the sole female in a litter of three. Life was tough one their own, and Oat vowed not she nor her pups would ever feel that pain. As soon as she turned two she struck out on her own. 

Accustomed to lone hunting, she easily took down a cow elk, filling her belly with pride with every bite she ate. A few days later, she took down an elk calf as well. As she ate from the carcass, she heard paws approaching. She turned and saw three males approaching. Seeing she had a carcass, they hung back. She wagged her tail and stepped away, inviting them to eat "I cant eat this all myself, you're more than welcome to some."

A black wolf stepped forward and introduced himself as Colt, a four year old from the Cinnabar pack. The other two were his brothers. As they talked Oat felt herself growing fond of this male. He listened intently as she told her story, and shared his own stories of hardship, telling Oat that she wasn't alone in fearing life as a lone wolf. Soon the sun had sent, and the two other brothers had continued on, but Oat and Colt fell asleep by the carcass. A few times that night they were awoken by coyotes and even other wolves, but Colt jumped right in to help Oat defend their meal.

It wasn't long before Oat asked him to join her, and they were headed into Slough Creek, where Colt had been born. As spring came around, Oat gave birth to her first litter of pups in a lightning-struck tree. And so, before she named them, she deemed them members of the Lightning pack.  There were six pups in total. Four females and two males. They named the females Rye, Wheat, Barely and Millet, while the males were named Corn and Buckwheat.

For a while, life was good. the young pack held a firm grip on their territory, and both adults handled parenthood well. But, as life goes, death was waiting and it came in the form of a rival pack wolf. The rival managed to grab Corn and snapped his neck with a violent shake before Oat and Colt could bite enough to chase them away.

As the last spring snows fell, the entire litter fell sick. Somehow, through exhaustion and sickness themselves, Colt and Oat managed to keep all five pups safe until they recovered. By then it was time to move from the den, and up the valley to a clearing the growing pups could romp in for the summer.

The summer passed with the five pups learning to hunt and patrol, and soon enough Oat was showing again. As winter came, they returned to the Lightning Tree and prepped for the new litter. 

This time, it was a litter of seven. Four she-wolves and three males. The family named them Pampas, Cat, Napier, Brome, Muhly, Scutch and Cogon. Oat thought that with last years pups to help, this litter would have a much easier spring.

But that's not how the story goes.

Pampas was the first to die, pulled by her tail from the den as she tried to flee, right into the jaws of a grizzly bear. Suffering from the shock of watching his sister's death, Scutch fell ill. Being early spring, the heavy snow still blanketed the hills, and the family were slowly starving.  Oat cried to the stars each night, until one shone the brightest and a familiar pupscent weaved around her. Her first loss, Corn.

"My son, my sweet runt, please help us. Please protect my youngest, your siblings. Please let us reach the summer grounds." She sobbed as she stared up at the sky. And the star seemed to twinkle.

As the winter snows melted, life improved. The family managed to scrape by and survive to hunt the weak winter elk. With fresh meat, the pups grew healthy and fast.

So when Napier fell sick a few days before their move to the summer grounds, Oat was only slightly concerned. She believed her bad luck had broke with the cry to her son, and Napier was healthy and strong, she could fight it off. 

But oh how wrong she was, for the night before the journey, Napier would shudder a final raspy breath and her young body would go still. Oat was torn apart by this, and screamed to any wolf that could hear, that she would raise her pups on the blood of newborn prey, to shake the souls of her prey like the ancestors have shaken her.