Feral Heart

The Ajali are a rare species of wolf. They have only been discovered in the gloomy area's such as tunnels and caves. They may exist elsewhere, but it is unknown. According to sightings, they appear to be larger than a Grey wolf, almost accessing the size of a full Dire Wolf. They usually contain the most unusual optic colors. They have been spotted in purple, mint green, and solid white. They appear to have a medium, double coated pelt, in the colors of dark grey, black, rose hued and solid white. They may contain more than one color. The rarest color between all of that is to have mint green optics with a rose hued pelt, for only 1 out of 10 of the wolves pursue the dazzling color combination. Some believe they existed years before, during the reign of the Dire Wolf. The Dire wolves over-powered their race, as they begged for survival. It was said that they did die out, which was an incorrect statement. It they were extinct, why would they be roaming the hidden caves and tunnels today? Before Dire wolves took them out, they were powerful and clever canids. There coat is soft and smooth to the touch, though looks bristly to the eye. It appears that they tend to mate and reproduce often. Hopefully, they will mate and reproduce enough to increase the population of the Ajali race. The species got they're name, Ajali, because there is a chance they're race will flourish one day. ( Ajali is a name meaning chance ).

I decided to think of a little random story thing on the top of my head. If you like it, a floof would be appreciated dearly.
 
It appeared to be a usually tranquil state in Spancil Hill. The brutes whom roamed the lush lands are busy hunting down large game, while the fae's are nurturing their young offspring. Life progressed well in Spancil, with all of the packs of canids allied with one another, and all of the game, water, and opened land to help the packs who lived their thrive. At the moment, the pack who seemed to be most successful was the Pack of Highland Isles. They succeed in members and power. They are friendly to allies, but serious with bounds and rules. The other packs look up to them as their protectors, for they have fierce warriors, guards and scouts that are trained to fight with perfection, until the death. Out of nowhere, a loud, piercingly deep roar rumbled throughout the settling horizon, catching the attention of every mere canid in Spancil. "Aye, what is that!?" Dante, the Alpha of the Pack of Highland Isles exclaimed. "F-F-Felidae!!" A tenderfoot from another pack shrieked before scurrying away in a heap. Finally catching sight of the felidae rogues, Dante went running to retrieve the guards, warriors, and scouts of all of the 8 packs whom lived in Spancil. "Attack without mercy!!" The Alpha barked, darting off with the huge raid of canids. Alarmed by the sudden raid, the rogues sent out more and more felidae to attack the canids. The rogue's slashed their sharp claws at the flesh of some canids, while the canids flung their own bodies at the other rogues, leaving gashes in their flesh. The canids penetrated their saliva-enriched ivories into the felidae's throat. The leader of the rogues, Reginald III, tackled Dante to the harsh, grassy terrain and suffocated him until he died. In aftermath, the canids did win, though the grassy terrain became blood-soaked. Crimson blood was splattered all over the foliage, turning the once lush Spancil, into a blood-slaughtered scene. ~**The End**~