Swiftcurrent Creek death brings life · pack meeting

second round starts monday the 24th, so be sure to get your replies in!

Dead.

Lost.

Gone.

And just like that, Lethe was no more. Fox felt wounded, broken, betrayed. Never before had she felt pain like this. It was the harsh reality she had been warned about again and again. She had always ignored it. She had pretended it did not exist. In one fell swoop, her leader was whisked away from this earth and was nothing more than a carcass. Lethe had been one of the few to gain Fox's respect, and now she simply ceased to exist. It boggled Fox's mind, and it tore her heart in two.

Yet... there was opportunity here. She was not so blind as to not see it. With Lethe gone, there was suddenly an open spot for anybody to step in. Anybody... including Fox. At that second, the yearling decided it was time to grow up. It was time to stop playing stupid games and pretending to be on some border patrol committee. The tiny red wolf inhaled and exhaled her last breath as a child and when she drew in her next breath, she let it out in a clear and loud call to her fellow pack-mates.

It was no longer the call of somebody just looking for buddies or hunting pals, but one of a leader. If they disliked her claim, they would have to take it up with her personally. Which was exactly why she had called them to her.

She parted from her prayer circle, her last motion to Lethe as a Shearwater Bay wolf, with a dark cloud looming over her vision. Just as quick as the Alpha's death wracked the pack with grief did Fox lay claim to it... And though the Kesuk longed to barrel in with teeth bared and remind Fox that she knew nothing of Lethe's legacy, she did not. She located the Alpha and approached smoothly, though in her eyes burned a bright defiance. No longer would Jinx Kesuk bow to an incompetent leader. She was tired of incompetent leaders. Though she made no move toward the rusty yearling, her gaze spoke volumes.

In a distant past, Jinx was placed in this same position. Her abilities were doubted by her pack mates. Her claim was questioned. Though she felt it was unjust then, she felt it perfectly acceptable to do the same to Fox now. Hers was the brilliant gaze of a wolf who had seen one too many complacent Alphas in her time, and did not intend to see another. This reality was as plain to read as any open book would be. Her posture did not falter in Fox's presence, but rather, pushed the envelope, perhaps a little too far... It was not an outright challenge, but challenging nevertheless.

As though to confirm she would allow Fox this one (and only one) chance to prove herself, she spoke quietly, before anyone else arrived: "if you falter even once, I will remove you and ruin you." Of course, an open threat. It was not meant to gain Jinx any disrespect. Wolves pushed the envelope with their leaders all the time, ever eager to test what was allowed and what was not. What Jinx did was accept Fox, for the time being, as her leader... With the very firm reality that should Fox show an ounce of weakness or hesitation as a leader, or become an eighth as scarce as Akhlut and Nanuq had in packs before Swiftcurrent Creek, then she would not be permitted to continue leading.

Presuming they both got along with Sol in our current threads. <3 Congrats to Fox! Solène is trying to assert herself here but she will submit where appropriate to put her in her current (post-shuffle) rank of Zeta. =)

Solène was not privy to the warning that Jinx issued to Fox; she arrived a mere instant after its quiet utterance, her silver form held tightly in a submissive stance. She still moved with grace and quiet confidence, but it was the confidence and surety of a woman who knows her place in the world. She had no intention of challenging the howl of leadership that Fox had sent into the air in the wake of Lethe's death, and every intention of following the petite female.

Fox was interesting, and not for the first time, Solène was gleeful that it was a woman at the pack's helm, and another female apparently assuming second-in-command as well. Back home, it was all men's politics and mechanations, with women used only as pawns in their masculine schemes. It was not impossible that Solène could see herself rising in the ranks, for reasons of her own merit, and not as her uncle's puppet. The prospect was delicious.

"You 'ave my loyalty, impératrice Fox," was Solène's greeting and oath all at once. She regretted that the Alpha's lack of French made it necessary to address her in English. It was not a beautiful tongue, even in her rolling accent, and it was too plain to address kings and queens. Solène dipped her head to Jinx and then, much deeper, to Fox. Her tail twitched in a nervous wag as instinct bid that she should find her place within the newly-disorganized ranks; she knew she stood beneath the tawny Alpha and the ivory Jinx, who might or might not have been asserting herself as Beta, and something within the Frenchwoman said that she ought to claim the space directly beneath them, by virtue of asserting herself to any that arrived after her. A bit uncertainty, the girl stood in a defensive pose, posting herself as guard at Fox's side. The dark salt-and-pepper fur along her nape and spine stiffened as she contemplated if she might win a rank in this fashion.

(Posted prior to his loss of Gamma rank)

The howl sounded while he was knee-deep in a freshly dug grave. Njal heard it but he didn't stop working; the earth was frozen and difficult to carve, and this required his attention more-so than the gathering of the pack. He made a mental note of where the sound came from as he dug the grave, as he pulled the chilled body of the former alpha in to the earth, and before long the man was ready. He lifted himself out of the chasm that had been carved in to the plains and worked on covering the deceased woman's body. When the work was done, Njal was tired. He had never had to bury someone before. The thought of it would have turned his stomach, had he not been so numb. Despite the cold that had crept across his pelt prior - when he had diligently dragged Lethe's body from the river - he was warm now. Not exactly dry, but warm. Heated and tired. His tongue hung out of his mouth when he turned to advance upon the pack's location.

The man arrived in time to hear a stranger's accented voice proclaim loyalty to Fox. He saw Jinx next, and the physical thrust of each wolf as they stood to attention, vying for rank under the new rule. Njal would have been happy to follow at any other time. He was still an obedient subordinate. The way that the stranger - Solene - prostrated herself next to Jinx did irk him. Njal approached with a lifted head and the poise he had been carrying for days prior; he was above them, and he would not let them take that position away. It had been Njal who had found the body. It had been Njal that had buried it, unassisted. The grizzled man's body was weary and his muscles ached from the work. There was a clear wet dog smell attached to his fur, along with the subtle musk of Lethe - a smell which would be covered soon by Fox, and the rest of the pack, as they re-established themselves.

With a low rumble in his chest Njal circled the group and carefully, but directly, approached Fox. He lowered his posture only in that moment; snaking his panting tongue back in to his mouth before slipping it out to lick at her chin, to defer to the small creature that now held ownership of Swiftcurrent. With a bold lift of his tired eyes, Njal looked to the other wolves who occupied the space, daring them to take his position away. He retained this level of authority while placing space between himself and the trio, as he sat down and waited for further additions to the group.

Clarice came to the howl. She herself had no personal objections, her loyalties truly to Jinx and her own father now. Lethe had been a piece of the Bay she had never really known. Strange that if her seductions had worked, she might have a sister. To her knowledge, she had no brothers, no sisters. Clarice was an only child. She had that selfish mindset to be sure, but Jinx was the one wolf Clarice really cared for. Growing up with her, Kaskae (the fat one), and Arktos, she may as well have had siblings... but Nanuq had not been her giver, and Jinx had been the only one she had liked. Her brother she might have liked, too, if there had been more interactions... alas. There had not been.

She kept her eyes on Jinx. She was okay? Clarice did not mind Fox, personally. So long as the woman did not preach a Faith she knew nothing about, Fox was a presence she could deal with and the spirits—thus far—did not screech about. They had not minded Lethe. Peace. Peace. A strange voice hummed. Peace. A Loa. Clarice's posture is that of one who respects all that is occurring. The ranks were the same as ever, and Clarice would ruin any who thought to trifle with her own position.

Death was something that Ira was beginning to become accustomed to. He had known it with the slaughter of the wolves of Red Keep, had watched the light fade from Tark's eyes as it claimed the insufferable Elder's life force. Though Ira had not mourned any of the precious deaths in truth, he had felt perhaps twinges of something considerable to humane. At the knowledge of Lethe's death he felt nothing. He did not know her enough to feel anything, and frankly she had been a bitch to Jinx and himself. "Good riddance," The princeling hissed coldly, and unfeelingly began towards the origins of Fox's howl. It did not take Ira long to reache the gathering and when he did he assumed him place beside Jinx, iced milky blue eyes looking at Fox, assessing the stance she used. So she was taking the leader position? He glimpsed to Jinx once, frowning slightly -- though Ira was ok with Fox even if he thought she was a little weird for the whole duck thing. He let the frown disappear as he then took in the forms of the wolves he did not know, each flicker of his eyes a silent and undetected judgement. After he was finished he looked back towards Fox, waiting with the same patience he implored while stalking in the shadows.

short, sorry :/

He slid into their presence, icewater eyes flickering coldly to the foxwolf who sought to command them in the wake of Lethe's demise. After a heartbeat, they moved to Jinx, but Lecter's stare did not soften; she was his Mambo, and she was the one whom he would follow, but he could not put his lot solely behind the vomiting girl.

Taking a place alongside Clarice, his bloodstained pelt brushing the pristine fur of her shoulder for a moment, the shaman seated himself, awaiting the handing of the torch. Already he was weary of it all, and the scent of his daughter, underlaid with a newness, distracted him with paternal verve.

But he thought little of it, and fixed his gaze forward.

next round will start on thursday the 27th.

Fox was relieved to see that Jinx was the first to arrive. Her warning was met with a look of understanding and a nod of her head. Fox did not believe in leaders who were weak, and she was not about to change her religion now that she was the one who could not be weak. The others filed in, with only Sol speaking among the remaining. Most communication between the group was done with body language, which suited Fox just fine. She was used to it, considering her brain tended to think of words much slower. The horrid-smelling wolf arrived, causing Fox's stomach to gurgle in distaste, but she managed to keep her breathing at a steady pace and her lunch where it belonged.

If anybody was missing, Fox did not have time to wait around forever.

“Lethe is gone. More precisely, she is dead.” Fox was less than eloquent when it came to speaking, which would become apparent to those who did not know it already. “That does not mean that our lives stop. Jinx and Njal, I want you on border patrol. Both of you are fighters.” She gave the two of them a glance as she said their names. “Clarice, you were searching for herbs the other day, so I presume you know a thing or two about medicine. If anybody is to be injured, they should go to you.” Fox wanted to make it clear what their jobs were. Keeping them busy would keep their minds off the loss of Lethe, and hopefully it would make them stronger as a pack to have defined roles. “Solène, you can work to keep our reserves full. Seek help from others if you need it.”

Aethon was not addressed, for he had plenty of things to learn about. His only job was to soak it all up from the others. But there was one she had not addressed. The one who did not even have a name to her. “You,” she said, looking pointedly to the shaman, “What is your name, and how can you contribute?” If he had no answer, Fox had no use for him. She was oblivious to his relations with the other wolves, even though he sat close to Clarice.

In filed the remaining wolves. First, Solene of the peppered toes, who Jinx remembered from a vague previous encounter. Next, Njal, a wolf she had sparred with once. He arrived with head and tail curled, proclaiming his rank for all to see. Ever an insolent wolf, Jinx matched this display head-on despite Njal's longevity with the pack, keen to take advantage of this day of unrest to put herself ahead. Whether he would single her out and attempt to physically push her down was left up to him. The young mambo was arrogant enough to believe she should stand above them all. She had always been arrogant, but once, it had been tempered by compassion.

No longer was that so.

Clarice was next, and Jinx's expression softened for her alone. The girl had truly come into her own, and now stood proudly amongst them. No doubt some day, the loa and their whirling voices would summon Clarice away again, but until that day came, it was plain to Jinx she intended to maintain rank in the creek. She did not falter and flinch away as the Kesuk might have expected her to. Her attention was pulled from Clarice when Ira stepped into the gathering, and though she knew he hadn't necessarily been expected here, she nonetheless felt proud that he had come. He settled beside her, and she noted he was getting taller and taller, and soon might even stand even with her, should he continue on growing.

Lecter came last. Although any insecure leader might have though this was an insult or disrespectful, Jinx knew otherwise. The shaman so often kept himself distant from society that it would have taken him some time to arrive, and she could only imagine he was loathe to follow someone that was not Shearwater. A momentary surge of possessiveness placed her pulse in her throat, and she faltered again, fumbling once more with the idea of claiming the pack for herself.

But Fox spoke before she could act on this impulse and she settled, resigned to this outcome. She was to patrol the borders with Njal, it seemed. "Got it," she chuffed, finding no other words necessary. Her gaze went to the brawny wolf with whom she would share this duty, and her mind questioned again whether he would act against her insolence or not. Solene was to gather and hunt, Clarice was to heal (though Jinx might've snickered at that if it was more appropriate, since she though Clarice was more like to poison someone for not worshipping Sos than to heal them), and that left Lecter.

Jinx knew of Lecter's myriad talents. She was tempted for a moment to reveal them herself and speak for him, but it passed. She was not anything to him but a Kesuk princess... And despite the memories his presence brought, and the stirring of her loins it brought, she did not think it proper to speak for him. Besides, she thought, Lecter was such a queer individual that his response was bound to be amusing.

Alas, Solène's attempt to dominate all those who came after her sputtered and died almost before it began; however, she soon settled into a space beneath a grey male whose fur was blackened with dirt and whose name she did not know, and Jinx herself. The others she managed to hold her head high over, and an unusually wicked gleam in the girl's emerald gaze dared any to take the position from her.

A pale female whose coat was smeared with blood won a scathing stare, for it was not the blood of a meal but something the girl had possibly rolled in or placed upon herself for goodness knows what cause. It certainly wasn't for camoflauge. An older male who resembled the girl but carried both blood and a foul odor slid up along side the similarly-marked woman, and Solène wrinkled her nose faintly, wondering what their relationship was. They seemed oddly cozy. There was a haughty puppy who seemed to look to Jinx for guidance and whose under-the-breath good riddance made Solène wish to box his ears. She'd learned few enough skills in the Troisclair pack, but tending to pups was one of them, and she couldn't abide an insolent and unappreciative one who would mock their former leader posthumously.

Then there was Fox, the petite but apparently strong-willed woman who would be their Alpha, for now at least. As the female spoke, Solène couldn't help but feel that the new imperatrice would be more than suitable; she swiftly assigned them each a duty that was presumably well-suited to each wolf. The de Joie wolf's lips quirked into a well, here goes smirk, for hunting was not her strong suit, but she would do her best to try and please the yearling queen. The Frenchwoman made a note of the names that were spoken and matched them to the faces that Fox settled her gaze upon. Jinx and Njal would be their border guard, and Clarice would be their healer.

That left the older and still nameless male, and Solène felt an unaccountable satisfaction that Fox would call him out, demanding his name and skills he could lend them. Already it seemed that she would both know her packmates and weed out useless members. The concept of capable leadership was a novel one, for Troisclair's wolves had been indolent and lazy, not the least inclined to do any actual leadership nor to take up any actual tasks that they didn't absolutely have to. Solène followed the ruddy she-wolf's gaze to peer curiously at the unnamed white male, but she snuck glances around at everybody else, too, in an attempt to etch faces, names, and scents together in her mind.

To amuse herself, she also added an animal nickname for each. Njal she thought of as la Bison, for something about his solidness reminded her of the buffalo. Clarice was la Corneille, the crow, always lusting for blood and scavenging meals, and her larger presumed-relative, the male being questioned, was le Vautour, the vulture. The puppy was la Belette, the weasel, and Jinx was le Lynx, the bobcat, for her feline grace. Fox was, of course, le Renard. The Fox, for she could be nothing else.

Njal was not a confrontational sort of man. He was usually complacent - accepting of his situation and placated by whatever he could get. But he never usually stayed in one place for long, which made the opinions of others hold little weight. Now, with a home that was concretely his in a great sense, Njal found a devotion rising up within him. All the same, he felt a respect for Jinx. Their spar had kindled a sense of connection (for him at least), and when Jinx rose to challenge his authority he was perplexed for a moment. Her raised head was close to his own, and the look in her eye was defiant - but he met it with a slight lift of his own square skull, and the curl of a lip. His throat rumbled as he took a step towards her, lifting from his perched position amongst the group; refusing to back down initially. She was contending for the Beta rank, as far as Njal could tell. Before he could really puff up and defy Jinx's advances, Fox began to speak. He would have to let it all slide for now - and backed down, but continued to dully rumble to himself.

Fox gave spoke of duties and things, which Njal would obey. Patrolling the borders had become a new habit of his, so this new task alloted to him was of no great change. A flick of the eye towards Jinx when she was named, and then Njal watched the new Alpha with a careful, deferring gaze. When she pointed looked to each member of the group Njal followed her; watching Solene, Clarice, Lecter, even though he did not truly know them. The man hadn't realized that the pack was so meager in population; however, those that were here appeared capable enough. The rumble finally ebbed in to silence around Njal as he accepted this too, and set himself down again in stoic silence. Watching, listening, but having no need to raise his voice.

Clarice payed no attention to any who heeded her except for Jinx and—when he arrived—her father. Clarice's eyes were never soft, but they were sharp; that was how one knew Clarice cared. She was strange. Not gentle by any means, too wild, feral, and unpredictable (given she was not mentally sound) to be such a thing. Still. Her awareness of the two who she (in her own way) cared for and adored spoke volumes.

She listened to Fox, and when her command was given she nodded. Lethe was dead. Clarice was numb to that; her father knew more of her than she. But she did not turn her gaze toward him. There was a strange feeling within her that she was only now becoming aware of, and her eyes swept to the crowd around them. It was now she simply waited for dismissal, having nothing to say on the matter. She was accepting, and her willingness to obey was clear enough.

short and late >__>

All that Ira seemed tasked with was sitting dutifully beside Jinx and being quiet. A feat that was surprisingly simple in that it allowed him to assess and judge everyone that he did not know. That left a lot of wolves up to the insolent child's scrutiny. Two of them were painted on blood and one of them, if not both of them had a foul odor about them. In accordance, Ira's nose scrunched up in evident disgust, dismissing the two ivory, blood stained wolves -- though unbeknownst to him they were his guardian's closest creatures. Fox did not address him and for now the lack of attention rolled off of Ira's shoulders. In this, he was allowed to continue with his own lessons though in due time he was sure he, too, would be asked to offer his skills to the greater good of the pack. In due time. For now, however, he remained silent and seated not having anything to offer them.

le sob LATE

Children.


That was the scent beneath the delicate fragrance of his daughter's body, and though a long, low dread thrummed through him, Lecter could not think who had placed the cubs within her womb. Nausea gripped him as he attempted to ponder the choices, and so the shaman, swallowing back the bitterness that had rose into his throat, blinked languidly and came back to himself.


The foxwolf was addressing him, her tone brisk, and Lecter's eyes cooled significantly, though he fought successfully the urge to curl his lip at the other's disrespect. A scant handful of days ago he had been in the topmost ranks, and now with Lethe's passing, he had fallen, beneath this halfwolf who could not even keep her meat within her belly.


"I am Lecter. I have served the Kesuk line since before any single one of you sucked at your mother's teat," his voice growled out, and he rose as he spoke, drawing strength from Clarice's silent presence. "I am shaman and seer, a tracker of storms and herds." His muscles tensed; aged though he was, the pale madman did not feel that he was too elderly to follow the elk and deer.


"But foremost I am the keeper of lore, a teacher to those I deem receptive to my lessons. That is all I intend to be known as, in this pack or outside of it." Lecter finished coolly, not quite meeting Fox's eyes, as not to be disrespectful, but his stance would not be unmoved. Let the halfwolf throw him from her lands. He would not fight for his role here, only his place alongside Jinx, alongside Clarice.

this will be the last round, and i'll leave it up until wednesday evening.

Each of the others were silent, sans a short response from Jinx, and when the bloodied creature finally spoke his name and his skills, Fox was satisfied enough and acknowledged him with a slight nod. He could do whatever he wanted, for all she cared. As long as he kept away from her and contributed in some way, she would be pleased. Aethon was not addressed, considering his age, but she was glad that he had been present. It was important for him to know how things worked early on so he would know what to expect when he came of age.

Glad that there had been little to no conflict (the brief rank challenges between her followers were their problems), Fox addressed them a final time. “Should any of you have… issues with your tasks, seek me out.” Fox would not promise to change their duties or change her plans, but she wanted to allow them a hypothetical open door, should they wish to voice their opinions.

Lecter eyed Fox with some consternation; he had expected her to raise her voice or otherwise challenge his rudeness, but she did not, and so he quickly lost interest. His icewater eyes traveled briefly to Jinx, and then a dip of his muzzle nudged Clarice's shoulder gently. "Go and eat, my girl. You will not be consuming flesh merely for yourself," he murmured, tensing himself for Fox's dismissal.

She had nothing to add and nothing to dispute. Jinx was happy doing border patrol, for though she bad once found it boring and shirked it in favour of her spiritual studies, her wild roots had been reawakened some time ago and had yet to hide themselves. She noted Lecter's tender treatment of Clarice with some curiosity, but thought nothing much of it and couldn't hear his murmured words. There was no doubt in her mind they had something to do with the loa. She awaited dismissal, unwilling to walk out on the meeting without first being instructed to do so.

The meeting seemed to be at an end. None appeared to wish ill upon Fox, at least not openly, and the wolves took to their new assignments without issue. Njal cast a glance towards the pale man whose voice was low, and ultimately impossible to truly hear. His eyes travelled to the creatures with which he shared company, and he paced - brushing softly against Jinx and passing the unknown Solene, and then to Fox, who was carefully nudged in a friendly manner. He waited with the others for dismissal, but was itching to leave.

With a curt nod, Fox dismissed them. As they dispersed, she wondered if she would actually be able to do all this stuff. It was quite a load for the yearling, and despite Jinx's warning, she knew she would fuck it up at least once. Hopefully she would somehow manage to spin it into something good, though. Fox had never considered herself a leader, but she'd never been much of a follower, either.

When the lot of them had disappeared from her sight, Fox took a deep breath and headed for the borders. Now that this pack belonged to her, she would have to make sure that anybody who stepped close to it knew of the change. The next few weeks would be exhausting.