Haunted Wood we were hungry before we were born

bleeding, limping, she arrives in the central territories. a bloody gash slashes across her neck, weeping blood. a laceration stretches across her shoulder, under her left eye, too. there are many wounds beside, but the pain remains distant for now with the help of burning adrenaline and the tug of duty. the warrior had not made the decision entirely blindly, but faced with her victory, there remain unanswered questions, wariness. 

but to the pack, she can be nothing but strong. she calls for them then; @Serem, @Black Hat, @Vanity, @Tzila, @Polaris, @Eirwyn, @Ghidorah, @Valour and @Daivya. she waits until they arrive, rigid, tail curled high over her back and features cast into a steely mask. she can not allow doubt to show, in any form, not now.

when they are all gathered, she speaks. "Vengeance is dead. I am Warlord now." she pauses, glancing to those who have gathered, gimlet stare resting on those highest ranking. Serem, Tzila, Black Hat, Vanity. She'd thought of this, too, the speed at which she'd have to exert her control, and occupy the empty slot Alison had left. Serem, and Tzila, were her first choices. The latter was steady, reliable, though admittedly the girl knew little of her. Serem was—had been, Vengeance's consort. She is a formidable fighter and a senior member besides, and so the girl makes her decision. "Serem will be my General." in promoting the female, she hopes to waylay a challenge she sense may come from her, while similarly acknowledging her youth and relative inexperience. it is more of a statement than anything, but still she meets the woman's gaze with her own, waiting for an affirmative.