Wheeling Gull Isle a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied

There was no recognition in her eyes as he made his way to her – he was met with a flash of surprise, and as she quietly stumbled over her words, it was not missed by the wraith the way she held herself firmly to the side of the golden male – and how he, in turn, seemed to unfurl himself almost protectively around her. His own features withheld the stoicism he now felt – the finally branches of familiarity to Donnelaith and family slipping away from any grasp he could have imagined as it occurred to him then that Aria was gone. He could not pretend to understand what had happened to her – had she any semblance of her old self, even the name Mayfair would have struck emotion with her. But it did not, and Constantines fiery eyes swept over the pale dove before him, enclosing his sadness, and reeling fro this very fact.
 
It was the final nail in the coffin of the old Constantine Mayfair. There would be no turning back now – Donnelaith lay in ashes, his sisters likely burned with it and his father’s own body long gone. Now, the one friend he had left was also gone – and while something within him stirred insistence to continue – to evoke her memory, he knew then it would almost be a disservice to her. Why should Aria have to live with the pain of loss when she had seemingly escaped it?
 
Goodbye, Aria, his mind quietly spoke, and with a casual lilt of his tainted lips, the Mayfair withheld a lofty casualness to his posture – albeit one that spoke of submission to the large tawny wolf. For now. The ways of Tartok now thrummed in his chest – challenge was not a key plan at the moment, and until the wolf before them proved otherwise with any leading capabilities, Constantine would simply wait and see.
 
And he would stay. “Don’t worry – it was simply in passing,” he offered, maintaining an air of casual conversation. As if he had not held feelings for the woman before him – the very woman who had lit up at the sight of Floki on Moonspear, and now clung to the male at her side. He could not chase ghosts – not any longer. She would be better off without him.. and the island was large enough that he could maintain a distance between them.

Not unlike her younger brother, Ixchel had taken unspoken offense to Komodo’s presumptuous summons. Perhaps it was in their blood -- a fire for rebellion still burning bright all the way from Nootka Sound -- but their approach to the circumstance was entirely different. This, by contrast, could have something to do with their respective genders. The adopted Corten felt indebted to no wolf, and her now singular desire to procreate led her to realize she would do anything now to claim her birthright; as a natural islander, and a woman with a healthy uterus.

She followed the call readily and stiff-legged, arriving in time to observe the Earthstalker address the accumulated as family. A sentiment she knew befitted his particular values. All of them introduced themselves, and Ixchel remained silent on her perch -- out of sight and biding her time. She was most surprised to see Coelacanth among those collected. Komodo had mentioned seeing her, but the odds of finding the hybridized seabird here felt almost astronomical.

Watching the Groenendael, a surge of maternal instinct solidified her decision to move forward.

When the conversation turned to hunting, the short Amazonian descended, and emerged proudly through the crowd with a casually lifted tail and assertively pressed ears. She looked more self-assured than arrogant, though the opinion of her body language was largely up to those who observed it. Particularly, there was no hostility in her -- only certainty.

I’m Ixchel Corten, she announced, pressing through the crowd to mingle somewhere near the center. A former midwife and pack defender -- native to such islands, and an advocate for the sea. Some of you know me, her soft tropical eyes turned to the other Corten, sweet Coelacanth, then to Komodo, Aria, and Faeryn; and a lot of you don’t. She bravely met the eye of each stranger, recalling their names as best she could as she did so. Her gaze lingered favorably on Constantine, but the pause was negligible to the untrained eye.

But I come posing an important question that none of you have seemed yet to voice... Her tail wagged slowly back and forth, a pretty and cordial banner. Who is it that leads us? She looked squarely at Komodo, a delightfully sly challenge in her twinkling eye. Is it you, Earthstalker?

mae needed to react - but crappy post sorry

After having spoken, Maera fell back into the background, where she limited herself to let her eyes fall upon whoever was speaking and watch in a complete and utter silence. As if like Coelacanth, she too couldn't speak. Truth was, she had nothing to say.
Until now.

Ignoring the honestly awkward exchange between a man that presented himself as Constantine and a pale female that seemed to be attached at Komodo's hip, Maera turned when another female, a gorgeous woman dressed also in a stunning combination of pale colors, greys and a peach mask, took her turn to speak. By her looks alone she had caught the Sveijarn's attention but as soon as she revealed her name, and last name, Maera found herself completely captivated by her.

Ixchel Corten, she repeated in her mind, silently wondering what the link her and her Axolotl might be.
After finding out Coelacanth was a sibling, she preferred not to jump into any early conclusions. The female spoke eloquently and adressed the man that had brought them all here, with an unnerving confidence that made Maera want to speak as well. Ixchel had put into words a question that probably circled around everyone's head, but as she asked him directly if it was him who was going to take the lead Maera could not make out if it was in fact a serious question or a disguised challenge/invitation for any other contenders to step forward.

"There's no leader yet" she barked, her eyes searching Ixchel's, before turning back to Komodo. 
Whatever was to happen next was not in the paws of one or the other but of all the wolves gathered, whoever it was that was going to lead, had to be elected - not self-proclaimed.

Tagging those she interacted with directly~

Neptune eyes flitted uneasily from figure to figure as Coelacanth’s rose blush tongue darted out to sweep nervously across her lips. An airy, toneless whine stirred within the hollow confines of her throat as the tension in the air began to thicken, and an odd pang stung her heart at the sight of Aria, settled tight and close at Komodo’s side. It was a place that Seelie had often occupied — her tiny body fit so neatly against the Earthstalker’s, a fact she had learned as a motherless puppy! — and seeing another woman in it sparked a flicker of jealousy and fear that she didn’t fully understand. She listened attentively as the seawolves introduced themselves one by one, her attention falling favorably upon @King as he turned a plaintive gaze toward her. All will be well, she sought to convey, her feathered tail brushing lightly against her spindly hocks as her eyes half-closed, arching in a doggish smile.

Tufted ears perked in surprise as @Parthenos drew near, lingering at Seelie’s flank — but the atramentous sheepdog had long begun to view the quiet, solemn woman as an ally of sorts. Parthenos offered no threat and was largely as quiet as the sheepdog herself. Content, Seelie allowed the older female’s approach. She maintained a few inches of distance but crossed it with a timorous sway of her tapered muzzle; if the pearl allowed, Seelie would whuff softly at her shoulder, the breath from her mouth teasing at the silvern tendrils.

Coelacanth listened quietly as Komodo addressed the group as a whole, her tufted ears flattening at the succinct greeting that rang false in the marrow of her bones; but her bright cerulean eyes were downturned, and the spark of mutiny within them carefully concealed. She was a submissive thing, and this alone made her question her own judgment. If Komodo truly believed that they would all be family, maybe she was hard-hearted for believing otherwise — but her interest, as flighty as her paws, was piqued by the dark male with the vivid, fiery eyes whose relationship with Aria was a tumultuous, curious welter. Perhaps her eyes lingered a little longer on him — certainly, her finely-sculpted head tipped to the side in eloquent curiosity. She didn’t know what to make of his sudden nonchalance.

She was still watching @Constantine when a familiar and beloved voice sliced through her thoughts as neatly as a bluefish’s fangs. “I’m Ixchel Corten,” came the calico tiamat’s smooth, decisive timbre, and Seelie’s head whipped around so hard that her tufted ears snapped forward with an audible flap! She was reasonably sure that she could say @Ixchel’s name now; Komodo had been working hard to help the little wolfdog with consonant sounds. It wasn’t the time or place, though, so she conveyed her joy at seeing Ixchel with the fluidity of her body. She bounded forward, just a pace, still keeping her distance from the throng at large; and she tossed her head like a spirited filly, whimpering in excitement.

It was at this moment that Coelacanth decided to reveal her own secret. It wasn’t for Stockholm’s sake that she had kept him segregated from the group — it was her own selfishness that had driven her to do so. He belonged to her. She was not a cold and calculating creature, but for reasons yet unbeknownst to her, she didn’t want to share the Gampr with her stranded counterparts. She turned just as Ixchel claimed Komodo’s attention and disappeared into the underbrush, whuffing softly to the heavy-limbed guardian in an invitation to follow her. Her head tipped entreatingly to the side as she backed up a few paces, darting forward to graze one shaggy paw with the tip of her nose. “Come with me, please?”

Though he most likely would have responded to the summoning call out of curiosity even if he had not crossed paths with Coelacanth, his decision on whether to go or not was now inexplicably tied to hers. And since she goes, so does he. But when she slips from the underbrush to make her presence known he lingers back, waiting, carefully observing.

Scents and tell-tale tracks in the wet soil had let him know that he and the inky hybrid were not alone on this island, but he would not have guessed the wolves to number so many. It stirs in him a mild sense of unease at first, something held over from his youth, from his days patrolling the wide open pastures in the spring and summer when the wolves would come to the flock to try to take newborn lambs during times of scarcity. Though their blood flowed in his veins as equally as the blood of his domestic sire, it was the dog instinct in him that had been fostered by the humans and it was the blood of wolves that stained his lips more than once under the harsh summer moonlight during his first year of life in Armenia.

But that was a long time ago, and the more he watches and listens, the more the feeling fades into nothing more than cautious wariness he would extend to any stranger, wolf or dog.

He listens to their introductions, but in particular his focus lingers on Coelacanth and the individuals she seems to acknowledge. The male who had made the summoning call is obviously someone she is familiar with, as is the reddish agouti female with the brilliant green eyes, and the pale-grey young male who brought food for the young female accompanying the green eyed girl, the silent silvery white female, and the bold woman who seems to illicit the most obvious reaction from Seelie. Komodo, Cascada, King, Parthenos, and Ixchel. He does his best to commit their names to his memory as well as the others, though it's doubtful he'll remember them all from just this one instance, his social cognition is a little too rusty for that.

His gaze lingers on the bold one, Ixchel, both because of Coelacanth's reaction to her presence, but also because he likes her straight-to-the-point attitude. It reminds him of someone he knew once, a memory he can't quite fully grasp and bring into the light yet.

He doesn't have time to turn it over in his head though, as Coelacanth returns through the fragrant underbrush, calling to him with a soft wuff. His short cropped ears twitch forward and he cocks his head to the side as she dances before him in invitation -- and that is all he needs. He follows her without question as she returns to the distance she is comfortable with in regards to the group, standing by her side like a soldier at attention, statuesque and covered in the scars of war, his large frame dwarfing hers. He carries himself with confidence, posture not asserting any attempt at dominance but also lacking any language of passive submission with his thick tail curled upwards slightly and his head held high. For the moment, he does not offer up his name, as there is a more important subject on the table -- Ixchel's question of who would lead the gathered group of canines if they chose to stay.

Dakarai held his tongue while the conversation went on, his mind racing with the fact of how many wolves were all stuck here on this island. There were none that he knew except Coelacanth, but everyone here seemed to have at least one familiar face to sit near. He was unsettled by this fact,yearning to go back to the mountains where he could at least still nurture his children. This wasnt what he wanted when he ran from Moonspear yet...

Here he could have a chance to start a new. He could meet people and make friends and allies,maybe..just maybe he could start another family of his own and be happy for once. Nobody knew him or what he had gone through,nobody knew of Blackfeather woods and Teaghlaigh, or of his and Olive's mistakes. Nobody but the sheepdog of course,but she couldn't really speak of it so what did he have to worry about there?

The change of thought brought a spark of excitement to his gaze, and he sat up straighter focusing his attention on everything going on around him. A woman announced herself as Ixchel Corten and then proceeded to challenge Komodo on the position the man had seemingly taken upon himself. His lips quirked up slightly and a small whuff of laughter left his maw, though he wasn't trying to be rude or mean at all. He simply thought it was a good question and was surprised she was the first to ask it.

"Is anyone here really qualified to lead? Who here holds interest in leading? I know I would take the chance myself" he asked calmly,his deep baritone released loudly enough for anyone to hear it. The last comment surprised even himself, he had never really felt the desire to lead before. Yet there was no set leader here, nobody had taken dominance over them, and Dakarai was tired of following meaninglessly. If he could gain the chance to make a difference here he would do so, he would turn his life around on this island.

aria was unsure of what to do. she could see the male in front of her and she recognized him completely-- but he was from a dream, she did not think that he would know of her. she stared, watching as he partially withered before her, inly to catch himself with a smooth recovery line. she was unaware of komodo's posture behind her, focused solely on this constantine as he fell silent. even as wolves began to introduce themselves, more falling into place, her gaze fell back to constantine occasionally. she would find him later-- maybe he could help. 

the only wolf that truly caught her attention was the man named dakarai... who spoke like he had some claim to leadership. his presence suddenly irked her-- could he not see that komodo had taken charge here? to her, he was the leader already. but, since she herself had no claim to leadership either, she stayed silent, her gaze the only reaction notably shown-- a clear sign of disapproval.

When Dakarai spoke, Coelacanth’s attention was immediately, almost vehemently, piqued. Her tufted ears, which had already been twisting and swiveling upon her head like two tiny, petal-shaped satellite dishes, popped in alarm. She had forgiven him that day on the beach and had resigned herself to a certain degree of cohabitation, but she was not a creature for forgetting. The idea that he might one day be able to tell her what to do and where to go — to command her — was downright terrifying. It was true that she could not yet speak of the horrors he had, by association, brought upon her. It was truer still that even when she figured out how to work her mouth around the rest of the alphabet, she would continue to keep those things to herself. There was a heavy measure of shame associated with that time of her life.

Komodo, Axolotl, and Ixchel especially must never find out about what happened to her — what would they think of her then? It was bad enough that she had been a bad dog and lashed out at the Leviathan and the Earthstalker. What would Ixchel say — beautiful, strong, intelligent Ixchel! — if she knew about the days in the cave and the ugliness that still writhed, some nights, beneath Seelie’s skin? Worse still, Cascada and King had met the little Groenendael as that skulking, loathsome creature — and they would never be able to forget that, never! Overwhelmed with her memories and the filthy, stinking fear they engendered, Coelacanth skirted around @Stockholm so that his heavily-built frame now stood solidly between her shrinking musculature and Dakarai’s bold entreaty. Her ears flattened against her skull and her muzzle wrinkled; a soft growl ticked within the column of her throat, but it was so hushed and minute that even the Gampr would be hard-pressed to hear or feel it.

Another wolf stepped forward, with a clear air of confidence. She could see it. She could not say she liked this one, though perhaps it was too early to judge them. It seemed Faeryn had a tendency to judge others quickly, and this case was no different. She remained silent, listening to the wolf's words and considering them. So, she had decent skills, but Fae was still undecided about her opinion on the woman.

Then, rather unexpectedly, Dakarai stepped forward with words of his own. Could he not see? Could neither of them see? It was clear that Komodo had taken charge, though she understood the other's eagerness to lead. She, too, desired that rank, but opportunities would come later in time, she was sure. She'd just work hard and prove herself to be a loyal wolf, something good was sure to come out of it. With a flick of her tail, she rose from where she sat and padded close to the two standing, questioning who was leading. The blue wolfess glanced at Dakarai and spoke clearly. "I would, too, put myself forward for that position, but I feel someone else has already taken it." She gave a brief smile, gazing at Komodo before her eyes met the darker wolf's again, flickering between him and Ixchel. "Though, if he does not want that title, I know I'd volunteer, but hardly any of you know me so I doubt I'd get many supporters." She chuckled lightly, hoping to bring the mood up a little bit. Everyone was so formal here. Not that she wasn't used to it, but they were stuck on an island together and it seemed they'd be around each other for a while, so there was no point being all formal and serious the whole time. A little joke would be appreciated.

"I believe a vote of kinds might be a good way to sort it - so we're in agreement." It was a fairly good idea, she thought, though she still searched everyone's faces to see what they thought. After all, like she said, it would be better if they were in agreement. Fights at this point were rather unnecessary, though she couldn't say she'd miss out on an opportunity to brush up on her fighting skills. Even so, now did not seem to be the time.

i’m sorry for the lame post, i don’t want to hold anything up while i’m away!

Small conversations happened between smaller parties — and Komodo’s comment about the waterways went largely ignored. This, he was fine with. He was a confident man, but not entirely keen on being the center of attention. It was why that most of his years, up until now, had been spent as a vagrant, a lone traveling man; Komodo craved not glory nor title, but instead desired the open road and the freedom it provided so readily. This need for detachment often gave him a pause when he considered his role with this group of wolves, tossed ashore by the sea itself, and for many individual moments upon this island he mused what this would mean for his insatiable wanderlust. If he assumed responsibility, which by now seemed to be him, would he be able to uphold it? So many lives that needed guidance — and it seemed there were so few amongst them willing to provide such services. He might be the only one.

ah, but he should not have been so quick to assume! Ixchel drifted into the center of the crowd with almost a cocky arrogance and Komodo raised an eyebrow at her brazen entrance. Had he not known the woman, known her strong personality and inability to take anyone’s shit, the earthstalker might have been offended, but no. It was very much like her to call him out; though if it weren't for him, the potential pack members might have remained no more than strangers. A chuckle and a smile played upon his lips, as Ixchel and Axolotl were too damn similar. 

He opened his earthen maw to reply, but was surprised to find his voice ousted by that of the small, fiery mouse woman. She was quick to provide clarification for Ixchel, but Komodo remained unperturbed. The man pressed himself against the waifish form of Aria, as if humored by the whole thing… it was all pretty dramatic and comical after all, was it not? “It seems that I have been spoken for,” the brute noted with a notch of an eyebrow, meeting Ixchel’s gaze and providing a toothy grin. He could only imagine what Axolotl’s maiden meant by such a statement — and he decided not to linger upon it.

But then Dakarai voiced his desire for leadership, followed by Faeryn, and then an unknown male came onto the scene and was too close to his Coelacanth and suddenly the chiseled shaman found himself gritting his teeth in sincere annoyance. It was so like pack wolves to jump at the sound of prestige and titles and women — but were they willing to put in the work to uphold those duties? Did they have the initiative, the drive...  or did they simply wish to take when things were handed to them? Were they as adaptable as the island was volatile? Komodo may not have been born a leader, but his healthy ego made him to believe he harbored stronger skills in these areas than any of those in the audience — save those he held in high regard. 

For a second, Komodo closed his eyes and rooted through his mind for a way to shut down these wolves, so hungry for a shot at influence or sought connection with the women Komodo thought of as his. “We all have a role to play in the weeks and months to come.” he muttered through a slight grit in his teeth. Did he need to placate them? “Significant roles,” he amended, looking directly at Dakarai and Faeryn and Ixchel and Constantine and the crop-earred newcomer. “We should not spend out energy squabbling over titles… this is not what is important.” It was so easy to become distracted from what was their ultimate goal — creating a suitable life upon the island. How did these contenders plan to do so? Until this was known. he did not feel comfortable succeeding to these strangers… but it was not his decision to make either way.

“I agree — a vote is necessary — but it would prudent to wait until we can properly weigh our options.” He spoke matter-of-factly, as if this was not just an opinion. Komodo flashed a smile at the crowd. ”We’ve all only just met.”

He inclines his head to the side slightly as Dakarai speaks up, asking if anyone was qualified to lead and voicing his interest in the position. His gaze flits towards Komodo immediately, looking for any reaction, subtle or otherwise, since the russet male was the one who called them together. Stockholm's attention quickly readjusts though as Coelacanth suddenly skirts behind him, as if seeking shelter from some threat seen only to her. His posture stiffens briefly, reflexively, but the source of her distress isn't clear to him -- none of the gathered canines have acted aggressively, even in a passive sense.. did she hear something he did not? Or was it something more nebulous that startled her, something one of the others said?

Unsure of the exact source of his inky companion's discomfort, Stockholm shifts his weight back and sinks to his haunches, letting Seelie use him as a shield for as long as she needs, turning his head back towards her slightly he gives her a soft smile and thumps his tail against the earth once to convey a silent message; it's alright, I will protect you, you are safe with me.

Faeryn's voice draws the Gampr's attention back to the group though. Another contender for the crown, apparently. He found it interesting how eager some of them seemed to want to jump into a position of such weighty responsibility. Stockholm did not deem himself much of a leader, but he was also at unease at the thought of being a follower to someone he did not know and did not trust. He turns his gaze back to Komodo, and does not miss the undertone of annoyance in his first syllables. Hmm.

"A very wise idea, a vote," he looks first to Faeryn then back to Komodo. "As is getting to know each other. Stockholm, by the way."

He ponders briefly, tempted to hold his tongue and say no more, but his personal investment in the situation draws it out of him -- if Seelie is staying, he is staying. And if he is staying, he will not submit to someone who has not earned the position with their actions. Though his appearance is that of a battle scarred warrior, his time with the Man has led him to speak in a cultured and diplomatic way. "You mentioned a stream earlier, possibly a good starting point for tracking prey? Might I be so bold as to suggest a hunt? Even if all we rustle up is a few rabbits, dinner would perhaps be a good starting point for acquainting ourselves with each other."

Constantine thought he might have imagined it – but the tawny wolf who had called them listened to those pressing themselves for leadership, and seemed to dismiss them – also making eye contact with him and no others, despite that Constantine had not placed himself forward. He felt his nerves bristling – but the wraith withheld his hackles from doing so in return. He had spoken nothing of placing himself forward as a candidate – but now, as if spurned by the challenge, something awoke inside the Mayfair.
 
Whatever the next step of his life would be, it would not be watching this stranger take the girl he had wanted to love and follow him blindly.
 
Another suggested they get to know one another – a hunt, to start. The shadow wasn’t feeling social right now – his mind and heart both reeling at the very idea that Aria was here, but now she was gone from him forever. But to be alone would only stir his thoughts to spiral further, and Constantine was keen on the distraction. “A hunt,” he agreed amicably, and with his fiery eyes trailing over Komodo with a new sense of consideration – and not necessarily one of friendly nature – the wraith moved after the pale fellow who made the suggestion, wondering if anyone else would follow.

Despite the discomfort that thickened and heated the air, each wolf remained until the impromptu meeting’s close. In the end, it was Stockholm who proposed a pack hunt to further acquaint the stranded seawolves; and although Cascada was inclined to stay back with Anatha until the girl was more comfortable with the group as a whole and of better constitution, there were more than enough hunters to ensure a successful kill. It happened in fits and starts as the individuals’ talents and weaknesses knitted together, but eventually they were rewarded with a successful kill — a regal one, at that.

Far greater than a few rabbits, the group managed to bring down a large bull elk with a penchant for stepping abruptly out into other’s paths — particularly whilst these others were hunting rabbits. When the group had eaten their fill, they returned to the meeting site with leftovers clutched carefully in their jaws — more than enough for Cascada and Anatha — and although they did not seem any closer to finding out who would inevitably lead them, at least they were full and comfortable when they bedded down for a nap.

posted by coelacanth.