Golden Glade King of Kings

She is transfixed by the creature, as large and mighty as he. She believes it to be her God, whether taken to the earthly form or a sign of him by his apostle- no matter, it was a sign indeed! The elk lifts his skull, looking to the wolves which watch him now, gathered below him. He bellows, the crisp air stirring a mist from his breath, and he then descends down the other side of the rock face. 

Celnes comes, following likely her scent then her sudden call. She too can see the High Elk and that despite her ways, he had not given up on all his followers yet. Maybe they would yet survive, not all judged based on the lack of one woman's faith.

Yes, they will. The older woman speaks, a smile over her graying mug towards the other woman now as she tears her eyes finally away from the Summit and onto her. A pale girl, blonde, though not a 'proper' color completely (as she was quite fair), she was not as cursed as those who not walked amongst her kind. Those of grayscale hue, white, black...

Either way, there was little which would break the old woman's spirits now and the other woman spoke knowledge of the elk, which fueled Odessa's mood. She would not disregard her, nor Celnes. A proof of their valor, their strength and resilience. He who is the mightiest is fitting to guide and protect his followers. The High Elk. Her God, her beloved.