What Really Is Identity?

Every step he took the sun would sink lower in the sky. Aureus settled at the edge of the oasis, his paws kneading at the reddish clay that lay on the east side of the oasis, probably a similar sediment to what made up the Redwater Rocks. Aureus had gone for a long walk, skirting around the edges of the volcanic damage. The air in the west was thick with the scent of wolves and packs. No doubt, many packs had fled west when the volcano had exploded.

Aureus was still trying to reconcile himself with his family name. Would the wolves of Boreas recognize him? Would they remember the Abraxas pup who had climbed so high in the ranking during the winter tournament last year? Perhaps in a way he should be glad he hadn't been taken raiding before his dad perished. At the moment he wasn't terribly keen to make new enemies. Not when he felt so vulnerable.

Aureus started to spread the red clay on his fur, seeking to let it sit. Later he would rinse off the bulk of it until it left a reddish stain on his fur. He wasn't sure if he would need a disguise going forward but it might not be a bad idea so he could at least travel in peace. Up close though it would likely be obvious. There were other types of dyes, like berries but a purple wolf… well, any more strange colors weren't that rare. Still, he wasn't keen on looking like a bright purple berry. That would make him stand out even more.