She's a Wildflower

Zee was, in so many ways, the heart of this pack. She was the kindness that filled in the cracks, and the friendly ear that any in his pack could turn to. He was the blood, but she was, without a doubt, the heart. He knew he could never have built this pack without her, and if she had not guided him, it would have been a darker place. A place filled more with slaves then members, and ones that were not treated well. He would not have gotten to experience the joy of realising these wolves wanted to be here, and would do much to contribute to the wellbeing of the pack. Wolves he could protect, and teach.

She was not just the heart of the pack, she was the heart of the Warlord, as well. With this in mind, and remembering how she had reacted when he had brought up the mention of flowers, he had worked hard to do something for her the very early hours of the morning. He had dug to each side of the pack, filled it with compost and soil, and picked the prettiest flowers that he could find. Sunflowers grew tall closest to the entrance of the den, their yellow tone reflecting off the den entrance. Smaller, more delicate flowers blossomed beside them. The Warlord, paws filled with dirt, and a nose that looked on the verge of sneezing, with petals across their black, took a step back and surveyed his handiwork.