Ankyra Sound nobody expects the spanish inquisition

it shouldn’t have been surprising how quickly the scenario turned to shit. figures arrived on the wind, prepared to face whatever it was that the dark wolf had returned to tell them. illidan could feel his head spinning at the sight of them all. he feared how quickly it would spiral out of control. it was not until raleska appeared, immediately spouting accusations toward the man and the tale that he offered them. illidan fixed his sister with a sharp glance and shook his head. “now is not the time, raleska,” the weary young man growled to her.
 
gathering all that he could from verx’s recounting, the ghost felt himself slipping away from where he stood – from reality – and clenched his jaw tightly to keep himself grounded. illidan did all that he could to stay rational and to swallow the emotions that bubbled up from within him. it felt as though a fire had started in the pit of his stomach and his intestines were lined with gasoline.
 
when erzulie spoke, he turned to her. her points were well-put, and she seemed as though she had thought through the statements and inquiries that were being made. he wished that he shared the same social graces. instead, the question was turned toward him. he locked eyes with erzulie for the briefest moment and released the tension in his back.
 
“we will not accuse him of anything until we have definitive answers,” the ghost stated firmly. “we will also not pass judgement on caiaphas until that time.” it was foolish to take one word over that of another without knowing anything in between. illidan did not wish to be stuck there, between the rock that was verx and the hard place that was his love for his mother. how was he to remain impartial when he wasn’t even certain that he trusted the former drageda wolf?
 
“my mother had plenty of reason to harbor ill will toward the easthollow wolves. they are the reason our family was torn apart. they are the reason my brothers vanished without a trace, and they are the cause of… my father’s death. they turned us away when we were starving. they cared only for their future pups and did not wish to risk being able to nourish their own young by accepting a new family into their ranks,” he explained to those close enough to listen. when he set his sights on vercingetorix, it was with a furrowed brow and a thin-lipped expression. “if your children were cast into the wild and told that they had no place, would you not harbor resentment? if their lives were threatened by the selfishness of one group, could you continue on as though nothing had happened?” he asked, but he did not even know if the former drageda wolf even had children, or cared for them. he based his query on the reaction that had been shown by the dark man.
 
the air around that group had changed, and he could feel it. there was a divide between what was said, what was believed, and what was the truth. the only way that they would know was if they sought caiaphas out or traveled to easthollow for answers. he would send none of his wolves to that pack. he did not trust them; they were not good. the weary soul believed that they would only do harm to his family, if given that chance again.
 
“i will step into her place as alpha until we have found a means to gather answers. i will remain watchful on our borders, should any of the easthollow wolves seek revenge, but… it would not surprise me if she was driven to this – this madness. if she returns to us alive, it will not go unaddressed.”