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W.I.L.D.
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2025-11-25 03:00:05The forest greeted them like an old friend—dense, fragrant with pine and damp earth, and alive with the subtle hum of unseen creatures. Sunlight speared through the canopy in gold shafts, dust motes swirling lazily, as if the woods themselves were holding their breath.
Cheyenne moved with a predator’s grace, feet barely brushing the fallen leaves. Gunner fell into step beside her, a quiet anchor of strength and focus. Serenya followed, her bare feet crunching lightly against the forest floor. Solana’s presence thrummed within her, steady and calm.
“Ready?” Cheyenne asked, voice soft but edged with steel. “Today’s about more than just running through the woods or dodging trees. It’s about tracking. Scent, movement, presence… learning to anticipate.”
Serenya swallowed, nodding. “I—I think so.”
“You think so,” Gunner repeated, tone low and teasing, th
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W.I.L.D. Old Wounds
The training grounds still smelled like damp earth and sweat, the rain from last night leaving everything slick with mud. The air was heavy, charged with tension that Cheyenne could feel before she even stepped out of the cabin. Wolves clustered in small groups, voices low but heated, words sharp enough to cut.“…we shouldn’t have to bow our heads to leeches.”“…or scale-backs. They’ll turn on us the second it suits them.”“…the Queen’s blinded, thinking peace is anything but a leash.”Cheyenne’s wolf bristled under her skin. Koa pressed low and ready, ears flat. They test us. They forget who we are.Cheyenne kept her shoulders squared, her pace steady, as she crossed the muddy yard. Every eye turned to her, some narrowing with suspicion, others softening with shame. The dissenters didn’t bother hiding their sneers. A few stepped forward, chests puffed like
W.I.L.D. Festival of Fire & Moon
The air was thick with spice, woodsmoke, and joy.After months of training, blood, and the heavy weight of shadows, the Blood Moon lands pulsed with life again. Lanterns bobbed in the night breeze like captured stars, strung between towering pines. Wolves moved through the clearing, laughter rising above the booming rhythm of the drums. Phoenixes had lit towering pyres that shimmered in hues of crimson, gold, and blue, each spark curling into the night sky like dancing fire spirits. The witches had woven enchantments into the bonfires, sending harmless embers that floated into the air and hung suspended like fireflies, glowing softly before fading into the dark.It wasn’t just a celebration. It was a declaration—fire and moonlight, side by side. The Moon Goddess and the Phoenix Flame, honored together for the first time.Cheyenne leaned against the food table, hip cocked and arms folded as she eyed the spread like it was the eighth wonder of the worl
W.I.L.D. Quiet in the Storm
The cabin welcomed them the moment the door shut. It smelled faintly of cedar and smoke, the scent of the woods clinging to the beams and rugs, layered with something softer—herbs from the bundle hanging by the window, lavender and sage that Cheyenne had insisted on weeks ago. The hearth crackled lazily, flames licking low at the logs, painting everything in shades of copper and honey.Cheyenne kicked off her boots, leaving them haphazardly by the door, and all but melted against Gunner. The weight of the day—the endless planning, the sharp edges of other people’s fears and hopes—seemed to loosen its grip the second she crossed the threshold. Here, she didn’t have to be the Queen. She could just be Chey.Gunner said nothing, simply guiding her with that steady hand at the small of her back. He moved with ease, as though he’d known her exhaustion before she ever spoke it, and drew her toward the wide, cushioned couch draped in the kni
W.I.L.D. Orien’s Test
The news traveled through the Blood Moon pack faster than wildfire in dry grass: Orien was being tested.By the time the sun dipped low, painting the sky in streaks of gold and crimson, half the pack had gathered in the training field. Wolves lounged on the wooden fencing, children darted between legs, and warriors leaned on spears or stretched shoulders in anticipation. The energy wasn’t hostile, but it was charged—like a festival where everyone knew someone was about to get roasted alive.Serenya stood just behind Orien, arms crossed, lips twitching as she caught snatches of conversation.“Think he’ll survive five minutes?”“Depends who they throw at him.”“I heard Ben’s going first.”“Oh, he’s dead then.”Solana stirred pressing at the edge of her mind, but Orien’s calm pulse brushed against hers through their bond, steady as a mountain. I&rs
W.I.L.D. Training the Next Gen - Part 2
The chamber was dim, shadows clinging to every corner. Flickers of torchlight cast eerie shapes along the stone walls, dancing across the polished floor. A group of young vampires shifted nervously, their eyes bright, senses on high alert.Nalia floated toward them, her fiery aura glowing faintly, yet steady. “Darkness doesn’t have to consume you,” she said, her voice carrying warmth even in the shadowed space. “Fire can illuminate, protect, and purify—even in places where no light dares to linger.”A few of the younger vampires glanced at each other, skepticism written across their pale faces. One boy, barely sixteen, raised his hand. “But… we’re supposed to thrive in the dark. Doesn’t fire go against that?”Nalia smiled gently. “It’s not about opposing the shadows—it’s about control. Fire is a tool, just like your abilities. It’s strength harnessed, not unleashed r
W.I.L.D. Training the Next Gen - Part 1
The morning sun stretched across the treetops like liquid gold, dripping warmth over the pack lands. Cheyenne inhaled deeply, the scents of pine, earth, and her people grounding her as she stood at the edge of the clearing. Her heart fluttered—not from nerves, but from a fierce, steady pride. Today wasn’t about war or survival. It was about planting seeds.Wolves—dozens of them, some no older than fifteen, others already brushing adulthood—filtered into the open field, voices buzzing like bees. Excitement and nerves danced together in the air. Pups wrestled until their mothers nudged them back in line. The older ones tried to look serious, shoulders squared, jaws tight, as if pretending maturity could hide their anticipation.Beside her, Gunner folded his arms, looking every inch the commanding King Alpha. Yet when she glanced up at him, she caught the curve of his smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was just as proud as she was, thoug
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