There was disquiet, brewing in the keep.

She felt it like an unwritten, foreboding apprehension, a whisper of cool against her pelt, the slick, glacial brush of gathering clouds - they swarmed to her call like humming bees, those wolves that her husband had lulled into his reach; a tempestuous storm is how they stood now, vexed ripples of molten silver, facing one another. Against one another. It was almost ironic, given their very purpose - she might have laughed, had the situation not become so dire. What could she do? It was a churning sea of angst gathering beneath her eyes, an atmosphere of subtle electricity, diving and shooting between each stiff spine, rattling their bones. Arching tails, incandescent stares, and, worst of all, the words - oh, they did sting, like the needle of a wasp injected into her skin, they did, but didn't she deserve them? Didn't they all?

They'd all become so... unlike themselves. Turned against one another like esurient, ravenous hounds - perhaps that is simply all they were, now. Gwendolyn felt numb, to her very core.

"Let me take the entirety of your stress away."

Oh, it sounded saccharine, did it not? A preposition, glazed in honey, mawkish in nature. So captivatingly divine, empyrean, eternally swathed in tranquility. So faultless, and yet, so very feigned. Ridden with fallacious claims. Why? Because, well, Minori could not take Gwen's strain away, the pressure that she did not know - it was impossible in the most recalcitrant of ways. There was nothing this warrior could do to stand against her husband, else she might've accomplished it already, instead of dwelling in a thick pool of misery, just as the snow queen herself had, before accepting this pledge. He was a void of impenetrable darkness, and she'd be damned if Minori was the one to shatter this, like a film of glass; there was nothing she could do, and this belief had been corroded into her lungs, with every breath of suffocating ash to scorch her tongue. Perhaps it was a punishment, more than anything else, for her to be condemned to such a life, but she would take it. She would carry this burden, for her children, for her life - if Minori took control, what would become of the Eruna, and her family? Regardless of her conversation with the warrioress, Gwen did not, could not, hand her credence to the girl. 

She looked to Raziel.

As anticipated, he turned toward her, striding forth in his stygian eminence - the king of the wood, as it should be. She fought the urge to dip her sibylline chin as he approached, experiencing the prickle of electricity slide up her shoulder at his touch. You see, there was one aspect of their relationship, now, that flicked a switch within the winter-born sylph. Fear. There was nothing more dictating, more clamorous, than consternation, and her husband cradled it like a jewel in his own palms, to utilize as he pleased. While once in her place stood a priestess of kingdoms, there now wavered a bygone queen, bent to the will of her tyrannical partner - because he was more vigorous, in his will, than herself. Had she not lost so much already, perhaps she could have risen against him, beaten away the shadows luring his mind like a hungry shark, and yet, she could not. She had already suffered too long.
She let her husband talk.

He had quite a way with words, the dove mused - he wielded them as his weapon, to unsheathe his wrath in the most serene of ways toward the offender. His mask was his stoicism, his eyes his venom, but his tongue, his tongue the rope, to bind them all together again. This was why he had remained the keep's watcher for so long despite sanity dripping like ink from his skull, because of this unspoken power. And he used it against her. Because he knew she’d heed his command.

"She seeks to replace you, Gwen...we can not lose each other to such an arrogant disease. Think of the children."

Her breath hitched. It was caught as a bubble of ambivalence in her throat, of fearful contemplation, and she knew, deep in her heart that she must obey him. She must do as he says, because, what would become of her, should she flee? Oh, she knew it very well. There was no escaping this man, if he craved something - well, he would have it. But she could not allow her comrades to believe she did not try to defend their will, and idly wondered whether there was a place for her voice among these shifting tides. She inhaled...

And then exhaled, rising from her place atop the earth. Phex's declaration caused a spear through her chest, but she could not allow this hurt to surface upon her features, no - she must be serene. Confident. Everything she had once been. While Cry would fight with burning words, underneath his facade of solemnity, she would be the voice of reason, to pledge peace between them all. At least… she would try. "Minori," she began softly, barely a whisper, before steadying herself, chewing at the inside of her cheek. "I understand your concerns, I know them very well. But surely, this is not the way to solve our issues. My place has little worth to you, and, a fight is not what I desire. It would solve very little. If leading is what you want, that is not something I can give to you." Her gaze flickered quietly to Raziel, in silent seeking of approval. "I have made mistakes also, but, if this is something you were so concerned about, why did you not seek us out previously? Why did you not voice your concerns before? There are issues, I agree, and now that we have been made aware of everyone's concerns, we can work toward amending them. Fighting will tear us apart. That is not something we should risk."

She could recall a time, so long ago, where Cry was beneath her rule, and it was almost beguiling to ponder upon. She tried with all her might to pull up the courage she'd been granted from the past, and drag it toward the present, to guide her now. "We do not have to resort to violence to get something done. Tell me, tell me what needs to be changed, and I will see to it. We will see to it." She glanced around at them all, gathering her strength. "There are always going to be setbacks along the road, and it's clear we have hit one now. But if we continue to work together, instead of fleeing, or showing our teeth, we can become stronger together, and we can create the safe haven that we all desire." Now, her eyes settled upon Minori, and Minori alone.

"But if you decide to fight, what is safe, anymore? Do we want a war, a divide? Do we want our children to grow up in chaos? I know you are a good wolf." Please. I'm saying this for all of us. He won't stop. She simply wanted safety, for them all, and if remaining beneath her husband’s rule was the only way? She would wield it, without his suspicions, in all her vigilant timidity.

And now, she rested back on her haunches, the picture of soundless composure, despite the whirlwind of panic embracing her chest.

So many decisions, when all it would take was a sleight of paw, and a dip of blood to set this bullshit contract ablaze. But Cry was no man of bravado, nor a man of useless violence. However, whatever dwelled in such a vehement prowl within, was. And it was everything in his power to keep it shackled. 

Phex spoke her piece, once again driving a wedge between he and what he considered his adopted daughter. This time he couldn’t exactly stop the floodgates as he seethed a low warning to her. “Amaya risked her life to figure out who had wronged you, under my own oath, and you doubt my capabilities? Despite my intent to bring you justice?” What little sympathy he could have even remotely summoned on her behalf was obliterated by her betrayal. And thus his mind cleared through the fog of held back emotions. Of weakness.

”Phex, you may leave. And you, your children, and anything following your bloodline will never be welcomed back to the Keep, whether this ‘crumbling’ pack remains, or not. You have been labeled Traditore, and should any of the named degenerates return to this land, they will be executed without hesitation.” His sentence was final. And there would be no held remorse for her plight, any longer. Almost as though it was needing to be said, he brought somewhat of a hurt face to Amaya, saying, “I apologize for your efforts  being shat upon by the victim, Miss Amaya. Your mission is concluded.” 

Bringing his view back to Minori, his eyes Atlantic gems glittered a creaseless azure, pressurized and almost begging to dagger the dark bitch with shards of crystalline ice. “I’ve no need to point out how silly it is to argue with you, Minori, but you continue to try me. Either prove your capability to back this stupid shit you keep claiming, or take your roach family and skitter away.” He stood, taking a step before Gwen, in case the few peons wanted to use her as his reason for going soft on them. Regardless, Gwen could kill a plenty of animals- surely she would defend herself, wouldn’t she? 

“I’ve no time to be a dancing dog in your pointless show. I’ve entertained your disillusioned ass enough.”

His words had only barely changed in their depth, but the chill could almost be felt across Teekon, itself. Minori didn’t exactly see herself flailing within the depths of the artic waters, but hyperthermia and over exertion would catch up with her soon enough-
and there his fangs would await to drag her beneath the dark blue sea.

The youth spoke up, and it almost made the ebonian draconian flinch. In what madness world did the whelpling bring to front his choice? He disregarded his lineage among filth and chose the winning team, it seemed. He didn’t know whether this was Minori’s own pup or whether this was Takara’s, but it almost made a disgusted chuckle choke from his chest. “Seems the decision of this one has been made-“ he snorted with a flick of obsidian aid to the baby fang. 

“Now make your’s.”