i've got a jar of dirt

With his birthday and the turning of a yearling, young Abraxas lord Stolas had been granted a certain degree of newfound freedoms—freedoms he was currently enjoying to the maximum as he wandered freely from Ashen territory. No longer requiring the escort of his parents' companions, Stolas had wandered to the northwest of his home lands, eager to explore the vast countryside of springtime Boreas. The weather was particularly dry for once, spring having shown its wet side as heavy rains pelted the continent almost constantly. The shifting weather patterns fascinated the young academic, yearning to know more about the world around him and how it functioned. From puphood, the dark-furred lad had shown an aptitude for his studies, his inquisitive mind soaking in facts and knowledge like a sponge. Even now, slate gray eyes drank in the rolling plains that surrounded the Range like his brain was parched for new discoveries. This, this was all he'd ever wanted! The freedom to roam, to explore, to learn and discover! They were simple pleasures, but they were his to treasure.

Stolas hadn't come to the Range with any particular purpose in mind. All of his siblings had been given mentors from the royal Abraxas yearlings to help them train up their skills, but Stolas saw to his own teachings. Sure, things would likely have been easier with a mentor of his own, but with his other siblings also seeking personalized attention, he didn't want to deprive any of them from their opportunities to learn and grow. Still, he wanted to prove he was useful to Ashen and that he could be responsible for his own education. So the Abraxas made his way to the old structures and ruins of the Range, old pack territory from a group he had never met before. Still, if wolves had been here once, there was a high probability that they left something useful behind. Stolas didn't meander; he headed straight for the large barn at the center of the fields. The structure was old and dilapidated, but still standing somehow. Being one of the few buildings still standing, it stood to reason that the previous pack would have used it for storage. That was where he would start his scavenger hunt.

The black and crimson wolf pushed his way through an opening in one of the barn's set of large doors, peering around the dimly lit interior with a quiet coo of curious intrigue. The air smelled musty and he could see dust dancing about in the streams of sunlight spilling in through the holes in the weathered roof. He didn't smell anyone else in hear, so after giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the dark, Stolas crept inside, tail wagging eagerly as he peered into empty stalls and began poking his nose into open crates. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he figured he'd know it when he found it. After a short bit of time rifling around, the sound of the barn door shifting as someone pushed their way inside made his heart leap up into his throat. Someone else was in here with him! Stolas spun on his heels, turning to face the open barn doors and the silhouette of the wolf in the sunlight. "Hello? Who goes there?" he called out in his most intimidating (and awkwardly strained adolescent) voice.

"Stolas Abraxas-Destruction"