Golden Glade King of Kings

This was fun! Thanks for joining b'ys! Last post with Niamh, though, just because we're a wee bit out of date, and otherwise, she'll do something stupid that I haven't accounted for in her present threads XD

It would seem that amongst the group of strange but beautiful wolves, the woman who bore herself with some amount of dignity did have some sense of reason, and attempted to put out the budding flames Niamh's words had begun to stoke. But she would turn her disdain upon Niamh as well, criticizing her for being judgemental which was something Niamh was actually quite used to- so the comment rolled off her shoulders like water off a duck's back. She'd call things as she saw them- and she saw no reason not to think these wolves were also judgemental, and therefore hypocritical. They weren't much unlike Niamh, in terms of bearing fierce pride amongst them, and that pride could often colour judgement. She rolled her eyes and shrugged, deeming it unfit- and likely too complicated as she'd have to then suffer the rebuttal of all the other elk-wolves- if she even chose to reply. 

With response to the pack's hunting claims, she huffed. "Well, if you haven't noticed, it's been raining for a month. No wonder you can't smell a thing." She informed the woman who introduced herself as the king. She demanded a name, so Niamh heaved a reluctant sigh- why was she even bothering?- and went to reply, though she would be beat to the matter by her sweet, beautiful son. She smiled at him gently, but stepped forward to lovingly nudge him closer to her flank. She wouldn't have tolerated speaking out of place from any but her children, so long as they were still young, innocent and pure as Primrose was. "Niamh Redhawk-Blackthorn, Regent of the Firebirds," She responded, with a tone intended to insinuate that if Celnes was any part royalty, then Niamh was too. "They won't hurt us, darling." She purred, looking up to meet the eyes of several who stared at the smal group of Firebirds with malintent. There was no way she could match them all- especially not when she would need not only to protect her own vulnerabilities, but Primrose as well. There was no way she and Chanel- her kind-hearted puppysitter- could fight off this many other wolves. And when cornered and bettered in strength, Niamh found it more comfortable to simply remove herself from the situation entirely, to avoid bringing calamity upon herself and her packmates. Her eyes caught sight of yet another, lurking not far away- and she knew, then, that it was time to leave before anything disastrous happened.

The aged female's hiss would draw Niamh's attention and would earn her a surly glare. No one. Absolutely no one called her son heathen swine. And her simmering honey gaze bore into the female as she revealed a flash of her teeth in silent warning. She'd remember the grizzled woman's face; and she sheathed her fangs. Now was not the time to invite violence. 

"We'll depart; but be warned. These are Firebird hunting grounds, and what you call a deity," She said, flicking her tongue wickedly over her teeth. "We call delicious." She settled her gaze upon the woman who called herself a King again, her gaze even but skeptical. A bucnh of lunatics, she decided. She lowered her muzzle to nudge Primrose, and began to move using her body as a means to both shield him and herd him from the group- she cast a glance to Chanel, trusting that the maternal female would take Primrose's other side, and help her make sure he was well protected as they left the band of elk-worshippers behind.