#maybe the enitity has a name

[poyameows]

Started malevolent and I didn't realise the scariest part would be the entity growling.

[bone-wolves]

The wolves of Rowan’s Shade pack were gathered round the large clearing before the gnarled roots of their titular tree. Some lay on the ground, relaxed and watching with interest, others were distracted by an itch, or an amiable snap-argument with their neighbor. But one wolf stood completely and utterly focused on him, and Srokacz felt the weight of that gaze like a chill wind cutting through him, as if she were looking inside him.

“You’ve grown so much since we found you,” Enit said, pleased. “You’ve become an adult, and with that your full status in the pack is realized.”

“I-” Srokacz stumbled over his words a little, hurriedly, to cut her off before she spoke more. “I have a request, lead wolf. Enit.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the ears of those wolves in his peripheral vision perk. Pietro, who’d been laying on a root near Enit in the honored place of The Companion, tensed suddenly, eyes scrutinizing the young wolf in a way that sent a far different sort of chill through Srokacz.

“I know that your way...the way of this pack, is that you, Lead, grant a name to a wolf on adulthood,” Srokacz said, taking a deep breath and steeling himself. “But I, I already have a name.”

A murmur ran through the pack. Every wolf had a ‘name’, a nickname, something that the others called them through puppyhood and adolescence until they came into their true name. Srokacz had a few as well; Little Spot, Scruffy, Bright Eyes. But those weren’t his name.

“Oh,” Enit cocked her head, a flicker of something glittering through the air around her head, a flurry of movement in her fur, accompanied by the flash of white (like teeth, Srokacz thought), as a grin grew on her face. “You’ve been an interesting pup, and I see that you’re starting adulthood in an interesting way as well.”

“Well, you see,” Srokacz licked his lips, a little nervous though he wasn’t sure if the nervousness came from Enit’s hawk-eyed attention or Pietro’s continued scrutinizing gaze. “Before I came to your pack, when I was still with my mama and tata, before the...the bear.”

Another murmur ran through the pack - everyone had heard the circumstances he’d been found in as a few-month old pup. Though none of them had spoke openly about the tragedy, whispers had spread around the pack.

“Before that, my mama - in her pack, the pups were named as they opened their eyes, and so, she named me, and called me by that name,” Srokacz said, holding himself so stiffly he nearly shook. “I’d like to be known by that name in this pack, now.”

Enit watched him a moment longer, that flickering in the air around her the only movement, her eyes seeming to grow bigger, yellower, deeper, like wells directly into the sun with each word he spoke. He didn’t know anything, feel anything, see anything but that glow, until suddenly she blinked, and the world dropped back around him with a thud he nearly heard and definitely felt.

“Your name!” Enit laughed, tail wagging gleefully as suddenly every line of her body was filled with amusement, happiness, expectation? “You’ve had your name all this time, and didn’t tell us?”

“I, uh, I...” Srokacz took a step back uncertainly, ears flicking back, “I didn’t want to share it before, and when I heard about the...the whole adulthood ceremony, I didn’t want to make a fuss.”

“Well maybe it was good you waited, because now - as it is our tradition - your name will be spoken for the first time to the pack, and become the name you’re known by!” Enit bounded off the root down to where Srokacz stood, chasing a circle around him once before coming to a stop before him again.

“Your name, young wolf - tell it to us, so we can know you!”

“Srokacz,” He said softly, eyes meeting Enit’s. And then, louder, “Srokacz. My name is Srokacz.”

The pronunciation of the name was far different than any of those among the pack already, and his name was passed around from wolf to wolf, as they tried it out, worked to pronounce it correctly.

“Srokacz, that is my name, and,” Srokacz said, suddenly bolstered by Enit’s acceptance and eagerness. “And Enit, Lead Wolf, I know what my role is in the pack.”

“You,” Enit said, mouth split wider than he though possible in a grin, “You are full of surprises, aren’t you!”

“I just,” Srokacz dipped his head slightly, lower than hers to show her respect, “I know what I will do. What I have to do. I, I’ve heard a voice, in my dreams, Enit. And on the wind, and in the sun ray’s. I don’t know how, or why, but I have.”

Enit cocked her head again, ears perked forward.

“How strange, How odd. That’s not part of your aspect.” Enit said, tilting her head the other way then.

“It’s true, mother,” Eridani’s voice spoke up from the edge of the clearing, and Srokacz felt relief at hearing it. She saw things, felt things, heard things the others didn’t, and so when he’d started hearing the voice he’d gone to Eridani, hoping to find an answer. “He hears her.”

“Her?” Enit’s grin vanished as her mouth shut and her gaze grew bemused. “Her?”

Srokacz lowered his head, his eyes, even lower, “Arcturus. I hear Arcturus.”

If a murmur had followed his words before, only silence followed now, a stone deep silence.

“Even I can’t hear her,” Enit said into that silence, her voice at once soft and strong and cold and hot. “She has gone somewhere I cannot see, left a trail I cannot follow. You say you hear her?”

“Yes.”

“You think you can find her?”

Another voice, higher pitched and softer despite the barely-held-back force behind her words. Paws padded quickly over to them, and Srokacz lifted his gaze to see cream-coated Tara trotting over to them, her tail half-raised and her ears perked, her pale eyes glistening.

“You think you can find my daughter?”

Srokacz didn’t lift his head, but he met her eyes and said as earnestly as he could, “I think that it is my destiny to do so.”

Tara stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and hope. “I taught her everything I know, everything I have learned in all the places I’ve gone. Wherever she is, she is surviving, I know that. She is alive.”

“All she needs is to find her way back home,” Srokacz said, finally lifting his head to face both Tara and Enit head on. “And I, I feel it - I can do that. I know I can. Whether it’s my aspect or not, it’s what I’m meant to do.”

Soft paw steps approached on his other side, and Eridani stepped up to them as well. Srokacz didn’t miss the way Enit’s eyes brightened at the sight of her daughter, or the way Pietro’s gaze turned from furrow-browed scrutiny to uncertainty, wariness.

“I can help Srokacz with tracking her voice,” Eridani said with a soft grin. “He’ll be on his own finding her, but I can help him with focusing on her, at least.”

“Yes,” Enit said, shortly and with a finality, tail raising in an eager wag. “Yes! Yes! I agree, this is the plan. This is a good plan. I can see you are committed to this path, and I think you have chosen well.”

She spun around with a joyful, short howl, facing all the members of her pack.

“Everyone, Srokacz is now an adult member of our pack! His path has been chosen, and as a pack member it is our duty to help him on it! Do you agree?”

Tara was the first to raise her head in a long howl, Eridani close behind, and then more and more until Srokacz stood at the center of a chorus of wolves, his spirit lifting with their voices.

Lifting his own nose towards the sky, he howled as well, his eyes focusing on the sun as he reached out to the lost member of their pack, wherever she was -

Do you hear me, Arcturus? I’m coming! I’ll find you!

[chelseareferenced]

More analysising poetry (why are you doing this if you suck at it?) it’s a lot shorter than the other two we’ve had, and more straight forward

There once was a man named Mark Whose heart had lost its Spark

At least it’s easier to decipher who this one is about. We’re dealing Asshole Mark here. Heart had lost its Spark maybe hinting at what happened to him after the whole William and Celine affair thing? (Why are you asking me?) i dunno. Pretty straight forward this one

He paid the Toll And gave up his Soul

A domain of evil anyone getting memories of when the Butler tried to show us something but ended up crying over a broken bottle? Paid the Toll we know Mark got into the “dark arts” so clearly when he was in the Upside Down after his multiple suicide attempts, something approached him. I like to think that it was the House, so when he gave up his Soul he was given the ability to steal Damien’s body, all that was asked was that Mark made sure there was a way to get the Enitity out of the House.

And now he lives in the Dark

This line caught my eye the moment I laid eyes on this poem. There are multiple connotations (huh?) meanings, to this line. It could be that Mark has fallen back into the Upside Down. It could hint to the state of Mark’s heart, I can’t say soul because he gave that up. It could also be hinting that Asshole Mark was reincarnated into Mark and has no memories, literally living in the dark. Or the idea that popped into my head first: Dark won.

I don’t know why, but apart from emphasis, I feel like the capitalisation of ending word of each line means something. I dunno I’ll check with a few friends and see what they say. For a short poem this one has a lot of information, even if it is just questions and ideas.

@snowelfxx @jim-news @i-killed-santa-claus @kellyplier @egosurveillance @jims-of-the-corn @pleaseletthisjimbetaken @kenmarlenn