King Elk Forest Who is the lamb and who is the knife.

The unmistakable air of family fills her nose now, not darkened by the sulfur smell of burning like before. It surprises her more than it should. A part of her thinks she is imagining things, because it has been over a month since she'd come through this place and at that time, the trails had gone cold.

She had thought to herself, 'It is time to move on,' and even entertained the thought enough to try; yet here she was now, stumbling upon them. Zephrine was a fleetfoot, she could turn tail now and be done with them all... To go on and live her life. The hesitation she displayed in that moment would cost her.

Around her stood the spires of trees. Rain scattered off the branches, pelting what withered leaves remained. It was cold but not so cold that she could see her breath. The air was fresh, except that scent. And the subtle shifting of a creature in the woods somewhere - drifting towards where she lingered.

The girl was appropriately alert. Her ears twisted at every change in the rain's tempo. She could hear her heart hammering more than she could feel it, made herself take a long breath to steady herself. Better to face this with some composure; if they would have her return to the fold at all, she knew it would be under-heel. The way it had always been.

No more time to run, now. Looks like she'd made up her mind.

Finding strangers at the borders was no longer unusual. Too many wolves entered, and many whom she will meet and escort. Célnes was firstly a King, but also a member to pretain their security. Not to mention there was always the thought; would more family appear? She had heard more and more were appearing, but mostly.. The unholy.

And here was another one- but she was not white like Whitney or Merba, or even Merba's little friend. Instead, it was someone referred to as family, yet they held the colors of not of a Deorwine, "Zephrine," the elken woman said with a smile, "you have found us."

"Zephrine," her name spoken smoothly, with a timbre she remembered. "You have found us." The girl turns her attention to the stalwart figure moving between the trees.

Their regal bearing is so much like the deified deer of their homeland that Zephrine knows this is a Deorwine immediately; but it has been some time since she has seen family, and at first does not link a name to a face. She does, however, nod her head in to a small bow. She knows her place.

"Finally, yes. I have been searching. Are there others -?" Not a tremble. Not a syllable out of place, nothing to show how disjointed she feels. Any desire to flee has been quashed by the presence of this other wolf.

She knows if she turns tail now she will never find a place among them again, and she cannot fathom another day without a semblance of normalcy. Perhaps here Zephrine could find her way back to the faith - or at the very least, find comfort in seeking out the divine for inspiration.

"Many have joined our rankings- including a few like yourself." Célnes faintly remembered this distant relative. Disdained by the gray she has, and called ugly by the mass, but nontheless, a Deorwine. Her unusual colorings caused an interest for some, but she certaintly wasn't white, and less cursed then others.

Her words hinted, that she was welcome to join them.

It made her feel oddly comforted to know her family was here, after all this time wandering. A nagging bit told her it was a cruel turn of fate, as if she had sought them out to continue the torment, unable to life without it. She listened to her inner voice a moment longer but concentrated on the woman standing before her to keep herself occupied.

They were a healthy, robust creature. Their coat was staunchly earth-toned, their conformation trim. Zephrine could feel the appraising of the other's eyes trail across her gawky body, no doubt tallying the pros and cons like everyone used to. 'Too grey, too tall, too long, too thin, too much meat on those bones, such vibrancy!' The synopsis was never the same. The sameness came in the errors; there was always something wrong about her.

"If I may..." Zephrine started, her voice lacking the strength of character inherent to her present company, she paused briefly to gather her composure that last iota. "I would appreciate if I could stay. Is there any role that you need filled? Any job that I could undertake for you...?" She could not help the pleading note at the end of her query. A dimming of her focus, that desperation an unwelcome thread of weakness.

She paused for a moment, her eyes glancing around in a thought. They had the devouts, the obvious hunters and warriors, the star-lover, the singer and healer, "I suppose, we do not have a storyteller or historian." Célnes fire-lit eyes went back onto the mix-pelted cousin and said so. They had quite an assortment of characters she believed so, but there was always departments lacking.

"In the end, it is up to you."

"But welcome home, to Kingslend."

If it were possible for a wolf to pale, that was what Zephrine would be doing. The colors that sat so vibrantly upon her body would strip of their lustre. Her eyes would go black - or just dead, sunken in to her already thin face. The positions offered were both variations on the limelight; the last thing she wanted was the attention of others. She felt a breath hitch in her throat and swallowed it, trying not to let the gasp permeate the air. Choking down her knee-jerk reaction.

The woman welcomed her, at any rate. She was free to choose a vocation that suited her better. Zephrine nodded, her smile looked well practiced. There was little warmth to her gaze.

"Thank you. I'll... I'll get settled, then." She had anticipated more of a process, but in the end she was glad this went smoothly. Perhaps she could start over here with the rest of them. Some of the same prejudices would remain, of course, but the old Zephrine did not have to survive the fire.

A silent farewell passed between herself and the comely stranger. Asking after the stranger's name or rank did not occur to the girl until she was a few body-lengths beyond the border, and by then the forest had swallowed her up.

Célnes had no fear accepting Zephrine. She already accepted the other one's who did hold the usual Deorwine colors, nor' was her discrimination that large to accept over gray colors. Though the King can already the devouts being more vocal of being against so, and could only say that this was a new Kingslend.

All would prove themselves eventually, she so believed.

The Deorwine yet to step into the true descent of 'no redemption' as none of the pure-white wolves have entered. A bigger reason to simply allow Zephrine to remain in, she was not cursed, and she was also family. However the other was so nervous, so harmed by the wickedness she faced of the Deorwine discrimation. 

This was why she cursed the High Elk at times.

Célnes own mind still warped from the usuals however, no one is completely free. The fear of the black-knights, and the omens of the white-birds was ingrained to the soul.

With still a smile, she turned back into the forest.