King Elk Forest He is not one of us.

A call rang out with an ominous tone. The air felt heavy, like those who were summoned or perhaps the ones who were put on display should be wary of what was to come. Calhoun paid no mind to it, interest driving him to the boulders that marked the Kings Crossing. Red hues found a soft face of brown, new, but welcomed all the same, though as his gaze traveled upwards he was met with the pelt of bleached unholiness. 

The Baron could feel his pelt bristle at the sight, despite the towering man's form being half-hidden behind his King, he had seen enough. Why did Celnes bring him here? His very presence was a curse, one she should be well aware of by now if those two that passed and spoke of false gods were not enough. Surely he had not been accepted. He would not stand for that.

A white born into their ranks was bad enough but happily accepting one was unheard of. His seat belonged at the base of the tower, but this time he could not bring himself to move forward. Instead, he stood near the back, his stance ridged as he waited for what cursed news Celnes would bring.