King Elk Forest Wintertide Jubilee, the first.

it is the first festival!
this is a MANDATORY event
@Cenric, @Odessa @Calhoun, @Germanicus, @Ravinger, @Sacnite, @Cynefrid, @Chad, @Aéthie Déorwinene, @Kiyoshi
the next posting will be on December 5th, or if everyone posts!
no post order.

The forest that Kingslend laid claim was barren. While the pines still held fresh, the oaks that aligned around were now barren, and even what was thought to be willows were simply but dead, as they bundled for the winter that was ahead. Seemingly dead but only in looks, as they all hibernated. She too would desire the thoughts to sleep away from the cold season, but alas wolves were not made for such treatments, and as a King as well, she had a duty to prepare for her people.

Living within Exalted Grotto, Célnes sought the comfort of any who would join the pack's denning area, as the colder it grew, the more everyone sought for warmth. Her pelt now plushed from the winter coat, but alas she still desired for more. She had missed the sanctuary of fall, for it was simply the best mixture of not too hot, or not too gold..

And now Jack Frost, was paying a visit.

When her deer-touched rose outside of the grotto, and she stretched for the morning sun, Célnes could not help but feel the slight tingle of a small frosty feeling upon her nose. A phoenix gaze looking above to the gray sky, as the small white particles lathered to the world.. It was snowing.

And so was the day the Wintertide Jubilee was to begin.

A warm smile to the frost King, as she picked up the pace with her long elegant legs to the Kings Crossing. Her voice howled to all that could here, for it was a day of celebration! Urgency and with need, but a tint of excitement as she sung a song to any and all who would hear.

Her mind drifted toward the White Elk that ran through the forest.. Today, was a day of celebration.

Calhoun had not been the first to wake, though that was not particularly unusual. What was unusual was the song that rose him from his slumber, a joyous call met with urgency. The Baron let out a wide yawn, his foreleg rubbing at the bridge of his nose as a plume of breath escaped him. Temperatures sure had dropped since they settled within the elken forest and any day now winter would creep around the corner to steal what little warmth was left behind so the world may rest and renew in the next year.

Dragging himself from the spot where he slumbered, Calhoun clambered out of the Exalted Grotto. Despite the death of the internal vegetation, the wide underground denning seemed to hold comfy thanks to the bodies of his family. It wasn't until Calhoun made it outside that he saw the reason for Celnes' call. The air was littered with flecks of cold white, a sign that winter was in fact now here. As one of Kingslend's hunters, it meant more work for the future, but for today it was indeed a celebration.

The Baron tipped his head back, calling for those who had already left for the day and those who still slumbered below to follow the call of their King. A festival was to be had, and tonight, a hunt. It was the one day in the year where the High Elk allowed his followers to hunt the apostles, an exciting day indeed.

Sacnite had bundled herself up tight against the cold.
Tucking her paws in close and her nose under her white-tipped tail.
She was just conscious enough to realise she was awake, not not quite enough to not be startled fully awake.
The small woman jerked her head up, listening and decoding the tone of the call.
Celnes, then, as she was standing, Calhoun.

She trotted out into the fresh cold, looking for the Baron and her friend, Germanicus. She was worried. What had happened? The calls sounded excited. Perhaps a hunt? But she was no hunter. She'd just get in the way...but she didn't want to say no either.

after what he had learned of calhoun and his preference, the guard did not allow himself to stray far from célnes. the trees hung whispering with frost, clacking in unruly breezes. it was because of this that their king had summoned them. germanicus was not far behind as she sang her aria into the forest, excitement and delight twining in her voice.

he stepped into the clearing almost as sacnite did, hushflower eyes holding to her searching cheekbone a moment before he passed his attention to célnes. calhoun had sung next. the eaglebound took up his usual sentry alongside the king, expression wiped of anything notable and gaze focused ahead, though peripherals itched for the opportunity to expose the treachery hidden in kingslend.

Out from the grotto and into the open crisp air, the Bull would heed her King's call. Having been resting in the same place as she and Calhoun, she was already there, ready to lift her graying muzzle to the skies and call out to her fellow packmates not already near. 

The weather turning colder, the older woman knew her limitations and had stuck to resting in the hollow at night when it was far colder. Alas, she could not stay locked up in there forever and so was forced out another morning to be greeted by the first fall of snow. 

She smiles, a small one, for the celebration to be had, for the year to come to irs end and bring new life for the next. But before spring brought life, she would wonder if winter would bring death-her death, more specifically. She felt, as she aged and now that they were in these lands, she was far less needed, if needed at all. After all, her son was gone, her mate, gone, and the grandchildren she had raised but recovered after the flames. @Célnes whiched to change their ways, to abolish their traditions and as such, Odessa's teachings were no longer needed either. Maybe, to her, the High Elk was no longer needed. 

Odessa began to ponder how long she'd need wait before she rejoiced in the spirit world among him.

With Célnes joyous call filling the air, swiftly followed by that of Cahlhoun, Chad lifted his head, bowed to the ground in prayer. Winter was upon them and the High Elk blessed them with the day of the Winter Jubilee. A day of celebrating, a day to hunt without restraint. Throwing his head back to add his voice into the mix for a short moment, he expressed his excitement.

Then, with little time to waste, he was on his way. Breezing through their forest towards Kings Crossing. His golden eyes glimmered, a wry smile upon his maw while his tail flagged happily. Not minding that he wasn't the first to arrive, with a bounce in his step, he settled to graze his shoulder fondly against that of his aging friend, Odessa.

Ravinger was sleepy.  At the sound of one of the Kings' calls, he struggled to rise to his paws.  He took a ridiculously long stretch from nose to tail tip and yawned laboriously.  Despite the fact that he was always in the mood for a party, he needed a moment to get himself together before the festival.  These moments were always his time to shine (like everything else in the world), and so after he had shaken himself free of the fatigue, he advanced toward the gathering.

"The holly and the ivy
When they are both full grown
Of all trees that are in the wood
The holly bears the crown

The Deorwine bear a pelage
As brown as any deer
So may the High Elk grant his mercy, sweet
To be our dear Saviour!" 

He led with the song he recalled from the winters passed -- an old tune often sung by more devout wolves than he.  It didn't matter how firmly Ravinger held his pack's beliefs, so long as he did his duty and raised his voice.

Time did not distort her sodality with Kingslend. Nor did it weaken it. For Aéthie, it was more than the passing of a territory and recognition of a name. It was a matter of dignity- of status- and above all virtue. Obediently, she welcomed the distinguished sight of the elken forest with a ritualistic bow-her gaze outlining the thin lace of drift and decorum coating the distant grotto.
 
A joyous call interrupted the serene silence of the moment, soon followed by another. And then another. And another. Aéthie recognized many of the calls as wellborn Déorwine, her tail flicking with devoted sentiment.

Instinctively, she made her way toward the gathering- following the call most familiar- her brother.

She didn't know what this was about, but she was damn well here for it. Trailing after the gathering crowd, she sat down near the back. Her tail curled neatly around her paws as she settled. Eyes scanned her new surroundings, having just been accepted into Kingslend a few days prior. It all felt so new, yet also old.

She didn't know anyone but Cenric so far, and he was too busy probably at this festival to chat. Wren shuffled awkwardly, wondering what was going on. Maybe it was something religious, about that Elk God. She could stand to learn more about their practices.

He anticipated the joyous call from the moment he’d woken up early, early, early that morning. Cenric wouldn’t have been surprised if he was the first to see it, the snow that is. A thin blanket lay across Kingslend. A sign of celebration.

Cenric followed the sound of his sister’s call as soon as it reached him. When he arrived, wolves were already gathered around the Crossing. Fashionably late, as he always was. It’s something he needed to work on.

Cenric took his place beside his sibling and quietly surveyed the crowd.

Drops of snow fell from the sky in a hauntingly graceful display -- trees being stripped of their green and left naked. Only the pines and spruces would dominate the forest now, giving off that wintergreen scent Cyne adored so much during this time of year.

Winter had come, and with it came the tradition she knew all to well since her younger days -- The wintertide Jubilee.

The fawn woman arrived a bit later than the rest, smiling warmly at all the farmiliar faces and humming at the sound of a particular bard's sweet voice. Though Ravinger was not the only one to have caught his attention -- because his sister, Aéthie, was here as well. A smile appeared on the dames face as she approached the pair; Cyne was happy to see that yet another old member had found their way to safety....

Though he was hurt to be pulled from his place on the borders, when the lady Deorwine called to summon the wolves of the forest, Kiyoshi turned to where her voice beckoned him and frowned softly. The burly young boy knew better than to ignore the woman's call, so he set his path in the direction of her choice and made his way toward her. 

Upon arrival, the child found the rest of the group having gathered. He knew a few of them, having crossed paths with them on his searches for Toshi. The young Draconid bowed toward the lady Celnes and took a place among the other members, careful to keep his head low and his eyes trained on their leader.

it is completely optional to make seperate threads to hunt, celebrate etc. it is known the day is for chatting and eating
sidenote is late LOL and the next posting will be in a week or until everyone posts again

"It is time for celebration- for the annuel Wintertide Jubilee. For when the first snow is to descend upon us, the High Elk grants us an Apostle to hunt down." Célnes watched each one of them enter, and she nodded in approval. It was a crucial event for not only the culture that Kingslend held, but the bonding between packmates itself. Her fire-lit eyes took a keen look toward her guard, Sacnite, Kiyoshi, and newcomer that she had yet to meet, but only by ear did she hear the name 'Wren.'

"It is known that those who do not join, do not eat upon this day. The injured, the elderly, the young, are only to watch and run beside us as the rest are to attack," though that was only given due to the fair amount that used to held. Many were once elderly and young, but as the old was blown away from the fire, and the new is here.. There very few that were counted, so her she trailed her eyes toward the Bull and Calf, whose words were directed toward the two.

"I would like to announce as well there is a sighting of an White Elk roaming- and it is decided that will be our first meal. Further hunting for any more Apostles will be on separate groups, but the first will be hunted together."

"We have options for a later time, as many still hold their antlers." She remembered the sighting days ago, and purposely with-held the information until now. The Deorwine King held a vixenous smile as she was below the Kings Crossing. She did climb to the top nor' made attempts to sit down, as shortly after the decision, soon the hunt would begin.

White Elk.

Somehow, it made her uneasy. Somehow, she didn't know what to think about it. Were white elk special? Cenric never mentioned it, directing her to priests who may tell her more about their religion. She tilted her head from the back of the group but said nothing. It wasn't her place as a newcomer. But Apostle.

She didn't know that word very well. Wren, however, would not turn away from her chance to hunt for the pack. Unease aside, she wanted to prove herself. Her paws shuffled in excitement, eager to begin on the mark given. The brunette would wait patiently however. She wasn't going to make a fool of herself in front of her new pack mates.

if anyone wants to branch off, please let me know/tag me!

Winter Jubilee.
That sounded nice. Like fun even.
Perhaps they could make decorations or something!
But...no.
Hunt.

Her eyes widened, looking to Germ quickly. No, she couldn't Sacnite didn't know how. She'd get in the way, she'd fail them, she'd....she'd....
She sucked in the air she'd forgotten to breathe in. Should she say something?
Should she quietly tell Celnes? Should...she just try?
Maybe if she threw herself off of a mountain or something they wouldn't make her.

The white elk. That is what Celnes wanted to hunt.
Sacnite drifted closer to Calhoun, almost absently. She needed help. She couldn't do this. It was impossible.
"Cal.." her meek voice came at a mouse-like level. "I- I can't hunt." She lifted fearful eyes to him. He'll think she'd pathetic, in truth, but she didn't want to get in the way and ruin the Jubilee.
Help.

One by one, voices joined in joyously until the pack had come together. Those who have not would face punishment later, so as it was in years passed. Calhoun never paid mind to the consequences for he never missed a festival, and on top of it, hunting was but one of his passions. Understandably it wasn't for all though, which was shortly proven as a mouse-like voice piped up to his side.

Calhoun turned, not expecting for whoever to direct their attention to him, but as his gaze fell to Sacnite the pieces fell together. She looked scared, but today was a day of celebration. She made it, that's all that really mattered. He chuckled shaking his head as his attention turned back to Celnes, Just run with us. Not everyone delivers a blow. So long as you attend, you will be part of the festivities.

I can branch off with cal for hunting with Wren if anyone else wants to join!

ravinger began to sing, and the guard found this enjoyable if pious. it was a warmer gathering than the family had yet held, and he was glad for the peace. the wild king speaking now, of blood to be shed from a white elk. germanicus was rather anticipating the event, for sport was not easily found in kingslend.
 
sacnite's gaze, falling to him as the wolves began to move aside. germanicus knew his focus belonged to the king, and there it would remain. yet he held it a moment before turning forward again,

and then calhoun, and the soldier's attention sharpened, waned, flared with a surprise he kept buried deep and coal-red inside himself.

had she not told him only a short time ago of this man's deceit? and now she looked to the deorwine, and he spoke to her in his assured way. germanicus was unsure what to make of it, but flicked her name into a questionable spot within his mental ledger. he must know more, for perhaps she played a game of her own.

his own attention remained steadfast; he stood beside célnes and was quiet.

There was no objection as the King descended on the rock, looking back at her fellow wolves of the forest, and retreating even deeper into so. Her legs bounding like the wind was Célnes pace picked up, and a smile upon her face for the excitement that there was. Within the view she thought to be the white elk, but alas, it was yet another.

A strong male with 6 points to his antlers, a worthy feast to the many wolves, but the King couldn't hide the disappointment she did not cross the white one originally. There was a part of her that was reluctant to accept the factor how the color 'white,' was a heathens mark, her rebellious side toward the religion scorned as so. But like all, she could not shake the discomfort upon seeing too many of them in the forest, giving a shadow to what may happen to Célnes. She wondered when was the day, they would try to dethrone her like Rohesia.

Surely by now the rest had seen the mighty king in his forest.. And she motioned toward them all, to attack!

They gathered. Many to be had still within their ranks though quite much so nothing compared to the family which they once had. She listens closely, though speaks not, as a critical hard gaze sweeps over the members of her pack. Once before so many youth looked to her with pride, for answers and guidance. Now none. So she moves slowly, steadily. When the hunt begins she is behind the majority of the group and keeps her pace in order to equally keep from winding herself. Her bones after some time, ache, but she finds happiness in the thrill of the hunt once more.