Golden Glade King of Kings

I just want to squish all of you for joining- I LOVE big, exciting threads like this!! What a way to introduce yourselves to the locals! :D <3

EDIT: Just for clarity's sake (and I personally do not care if we have a loose posting order or not so it's up to you guys <3) the order seems to be Odessa, Niamh, Célnes/Calhoun (not sure? but prolly best to sandwich Calhoun between Célnes and Chad XD), Chad, Primrose, Chanel. 
Also, I am still 100% cool should any others want to join in. THIS IS FUN!

At first, Niamh would be somewhat inclined to agree with the man who joined them next- another earthy-toned fellow with a stoic expression, but with eyes that somehow managed to look straight through her with the same disdain one sported when looking through a window and seeing that it was raining outside. True, finding a herd of elk would be a blessing, so she gave him a curt nod, though her expression spoke volumes. Why did he even bother joining them? Didn't he know it was rude for three wolves- clearly all associated with one another if not related- to surround another wolf out on their own? Perhaps these were the deviants Bronco had mentioned...Funny, though- he hadn't mentioned that they'd all wear such similar pelts. Two of them even shared the same austere, warm hue in their gaze. 

But when he mentioned she had a kind, and that it was one he obviously frowned upon, she lifted her head and tail indignantly, pulling back her lips to reveal her fangs. Her kind? What exactly did he mean by that? They were both wolves- and from his shape and stature, he was a grey wolf, just like her. Her eyes wandered to the others to see if perhaps they bore trademarks of other subspecies of wolves but all she noticed was that all three of them were earth-tones. Brown, brown, and brown. And then a fourth arrived- and the trend continued. More handsome, to Niamh, than the first male- and this one sported a plush, beige ruff and a more even tone to his eyes. He even went so far as to shush the first, though there was a noble condescention in his voice that Niamh didn't appreciate. 

More talk of Gods, and revering the elk which- she was told- they didn't eat. They worshipped the elk. The elderly one chimed in yet again with praise that made the fur along Niamh's spine prickle. Something was wrong here- something supernatural and wrong. Wolves were predators- and these ones were going against nature. Now, looking at them again...Brown, brown, brown, brown. Even the handsomest among them, with his silken tones, couldn't set Niamh's conscience at ease. The spoke over one another with the ease of wolves who had lived together for quite some time. Of Family. 

She dreaded the sound of the soft, flutelike voice as soon as she heard it and felt her beautiful, doe-eyed son collide softly with one of her legs. This was no place for a child- not when surrounded by four potential enemies. Without taking her now wary and suspicious gaze from the family of wolves around her, she nuzzled Primrose as he tucked himself near her haunches. In any other situation she would have boasted him- shown him off for all of his beauty, but from these religious fanatics, she wanted to keep him safe. Chanel- having obviously been looking out for the boy, was soon to follow and Niamh couldn't have thanked her enough for trailing behind the boy like a proper puppysitter. She was relieved- now they had Primrose sandwiched between the two of them, safe from the tawny group who, with their sincere, religious chatter, made Niamh bristle. 

She told herself to stay calm, for Primrose's sake. She side-stepped, allowing him a brief glimpse of the wolves she wa about to address, and turned her head to speakl to him in a sweet, singsong voice that was hushed, but not so quiet the others wouldn't also hear. "Take a good look, sweetie." She said, casting a side-eye to the community of tawny wolves.  She raised her voice as she turned back to address the crowd. "This is what inbred, religious fanatics look like." She said, and dared them to say otherwise with a beat of silence. 

"You'll find no God here." She said, lifting her head to address the four Déorwine wolves in a deep, booming voice.  "You've found the Firebirds; and you'll find we're not inclined to be merciful." She hissed, hoping to shut the elder female up, and cease her talk about remaining in their area. These were valued hunting grounds, especially in the winter time when the elk and deer would venture down from the mountains when forced into the open by storms making it too hard for them to remain in the security of the higher altitudes. And while these strangers confessed that they did not eat the elk, worshipping them would draw them no closer to the winter hunting grounds that the Firebirds had claimed. "These are our hunting grounds. These forests West of the river are ours, and whether or not you hunt the elk, I am sure you hunt other things," She informed them. The fur along her hackles bristled. That was about as civil as she could possibly be. She sent a glare to the sullen male with the mahogany in his eyes. "The one blessing you'll get is the peaceful goodbye I'll give you- so long as you leave these lands, now, and vow never to return to them." She said. The most reasonable wolves in the group was the doe-like female, with the hue of autumn leaves in her eyes, and the handsome male with the beige ruff. She trusted that together, they might herd their fanatic granny and the sour, sardonic uncle-character out of her hunting lands without questioning her again.