King Elk Forest What cooks in our cauldron could call down the sky.

célnes, with her strong perceptions. the ghost of a smile chased itself across the guard's cool features. "none that i would dare say, my king," he answered in a dry tone well meant to parry her prying.

it had been a fleeting thought. the woman was fetching enough to distract from any causeways in his soul not meant for marriage. sacnite was skilled and without a mate. but he was a guard, and without his own roots outside of his dedication to célnes. nothing to offer.

he did not think such things were forceful, not when he had already given his consent for the elk-woman to choose. but he did not argue, instead turning his attention toward her new obstacle. "have your brother choose the man. you know he will not approve unless he has some hand in the choice." better to have an outsider sanctioned by her co-leader than to choose someone the deorwines would loathe and thus lead to the fate she described.