Lets prove this title isn't given; Spar

Ever since Bass had asked Motif if she wished to rule at his side, something seemed to have sat within his belly. He was unsure if she would call him to the battle, to howl for him to prove her worth. Bass himself knew that there was no one else he would rather have by his side, but he had put rules in place for a reason. He feared that without the proper challenge, members of Abaven would not respect their Azgrat like they should. So he told her to call him when she was ready, but would that day every come? The young boy had set himself up for all this weight on his shoulders, taking on a pack so young. But his pack was growing by the day, even to the point where he needed to consider claiming new land for them.

As the alabaster brute sat on top of his rocky den, that very howl he had been waiting on sounded across the land. Motif called for him loud and clear, her confidence shining in her song. Bass grinned as he looked up at the sky, almost picturing the notes of her howl flitting over to him. It was time. Stretching atop the flat rock that made the roof of his den he jumped on to the earth, and pounded towards the battlefield.

It was a short run for Bass, the field was not too far away from his home. Skidding to a stop when he saw his brown sister, he padded up and rested his head on top of hers for a moment. He said nothing, just stood there in this strange embrace, his breath tickling her ears. The two of them always played around and joked, but this time it was for real. This was a serious matter that went far beyond their years. It was no time for playing games and teasing each other, for this was a serious battle in which wounds would be dealt. Letting out a soft breath, Bass stepped back from his sister, but not before pressing a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Motif, I am glad that you called me here today. This will be a challenge for your rank, for you to once and for all prove your skills to me and your pack. This will show that you are willing to combat any challenge head on, and protect Abaven until your last breath." Bass spoke, his words holding a lot of meaning to the yearling. His golden eyes grew sad for a moment as he gazed at here, they certainly were not pups any longer. Shaking out his limbs he took in a deep breath, the wolves standing only a few paces apart. At last the time had come, and he was ready.