What It Means To Be Pack

Zowie snorted, air puffing out into the cold winds, a small whips of cloud to be shredded in the wind. The winds ruffled the hair in her mane, short and light brown, starting between her shoulder blades and climbing up to rest in long tufts along her face and hanging in front of her large roundish ears. Her blue green eyes large, but sharp and cunning as she watched from her vantage point. Her pack, all of them now, all of them gone but hers.
Juliane, hair long and wispy amber colors, fitting for a giraffe type, hanging down her back, long pale limbs with honey colored spots and long pale ears and two small signature horns budding at the top of her head. She sat, bundled to keep herself warm from the cold. Nearby, Ieyden, large honey mask around the small deep mud colored spots that covered his eyes, hair long and a deep wonderful brown. He was large, expected for any bear type let alone a sloth, slightly curled hair though and large dark colored hands with blunt long claws. He smiled, all fangs. Zowie smiled in return, sharp bone crushing teeth of a hyena staring right back. Sumer was easy to find, her long snow white ears giving her away, and the loud thumping of a strong pale foot against the ground. For a rabbit, she was damn fast, but the nervousness grated on Zowie, her ears flattened slightly but she smirked all the same. Sumer was a wonderful pack mate. Peat was accross the clearing from Sumer and her thumping foot and pale limbs. His long ruddy ears twitched and the strong trademark kangaroo tail was leaned back, resting his weight on it. Lilith, all proud black and white markings of a badger on her face staring unflinching at the unnerving gaze of the spotted hyena, Zowie always respected her for it. Though the nimble black paws of the badger type scrabbled at berry made paints, Zowie knew a knife sharp mind was behind those eyes. Garen was a fellow hyena, though an Ard one. His ears longer and sharper than hers, and face a mask of muddy brown. His mane was short and white, but curled. From just above his elbows and knees down his skin was a muddy stalking, like Zowie, though his incredibly thin paler body was marked by stripes instead of spots as Zowie's was. His tail was much fluffier as well. Finally, Zowie's eyes found the last of her packmates, Shelben, long fluffy curled hair and small soft ears, two small nubs of horns peaking out depite her being a female sheep type, hard black nails like Juliane, unlike the sharp or blunt nails of the others. Yes, this was Zowie's pack.
All hybrids, all halflings, all unwanted by society, all misfits, all broken. There were others, Andren the meerkat, Eleanorn the minx, Maddith the owl, Marlene the grey fox, Rachelen and Rachele the robin twins, Shakir the wolf, and so many others gone, some return to greet but they are not pack anymore. Others gone and too painful to remember, though Zowie honors the memory of her fallen packmates in battle and in her heart.
Yes many were gone and the loss was painful, but Zowie still had her pack and they had her. She would not give up. She would fight.
Zowie leapt from the tree she'd lounged in, landing on mud colored feet with sharp black nails, she let out a cackling call, the others rising from the spots and grabbing their armor and weaponry. Zowie's blue green eyes were full of fire, the twin stripes that started above each eye and bled down to a point under her cheekbones making them stand out all the more, she was ready. The pack was ready. They donned their skull masks and with fearsome screeches they took off, the hunt was on.