Dragoncrest Cliffs Toujours

Watching Mireille step forward to speak in front of the others never failed to stoke her everlasting faith. Had the bear taken her soul alongside the others, the pack would have still thrived with her sister taking the lead. And now, as she addressed Valravn, their future was secured once more.

She thought of Sobo, and tears came to her eyes. For Valravn they had coined a new rank, one still oceanic in hue, and so appropriate in name considering that Valravn had always been an adventurer.

She kept an ear bent toward her sister, and with a watery, wandering eye she watched Valravn's expression as he listened to Mireille speak. Chacal silently made her way to the two conches which had been settled into the sand, and with a couple careful swipes of her paws, she uprooted them. She placed one at Mireille's feet, before she retrieved the other and returned to Mireille's side just in time to hear him accept the position.

The water shimmered inside the lip of the conch. She grinned, her teeth clenching slightly against the shell's edge, and gave Mireille a slight nod. Then, she turned so she could stand alongside Valravn, shell quivering lightly in her mouth. There, she slanted the eye nearest to him back, and wrinkles formed between the edges of her lip and the underside of her eye.

It was the safest and friendliest way to christen Valravn without forcing him to wade into the waters he detested, but she wasn't about to lie to him and say that it hadn't been her suggestion. So while it was intended to be very much a stately and ceremonious thing, Chacal could hardly wait to get to publicly dump a conch shell full of cold seawater all over her brother's head and shoulders.

She would wait for Mireille, of course- before she would tilt her head back, and pour the water over the very back of his crown and down his shoulders, a glistening, silverish cape of seawater.