Sea Lion Shores 1957

The physical representation of her atonement [the offering of flowers and other greens] was accepted by the Doe. The flowers had been intended for the ever-smouldering remains of Donnelaith, but in the process found a more practical purpose. Olive was remiss to start her relationship with the queen on the wrong foot, no matter her own personal duress. Doe was certainly feeling it too — not only had she lost pack members and friends among the forest wolves, but the poor woman was clearly marred by the fingers of the flames.

“Olive,” the druid said softly, dipped her head in an overdue formality. Doe’s gaze was strong and meeting it was somewhat uncomfortable; in this way, she reminded Olive of her Ceannasach. “From Teaghlaigh, the Comhairleoir” she stated mindfully, as if it her scent hadn’t already surrendered that knowledge. After the woman’s statement of her alphahood, the mention of Olive’s own rank felt somehow invited. Truly, Olive did not know the meaning of her rank in both language and rank — for she still felt so naive about politicking, despite her tutelage under several very strategic souls… but she served the family and she served them well. No one seemed to have any complaints yet. 

Climbing out from her woeful pit, Olive was able to carefully regard the woman’s singed form. “Goodness, are you in pain?” Her words were uttered softly, but at the same time, in earnest.