Hideaway Strath if you're soft on rebellion, it'll grow

This thread is forward dated to March 31st. I tagged everyone (some are tagged in post) eligible to reply to the Family Meeting/Náire trial. For the sake of keeping this from being too many rounds/dragging on I did a slight pp of the pack and vaguely assumed they're in attendance. If you are tagged and can't meet the deadline please drop me a message on slack or a pm (letting me know your toon's stance — or lack-thereof if they don't have one either way) otherwise your toon won't get to voice an opinion and be skipped as this meeting is mandatory. This round will end Saturday, April 1st or when everyone has gotten in a reply. @Lotte , @Chusi , @Hemlock , @Rollo

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There is nothing easy about this, Arturo thinks as he seeks out the perfect spot for the Family Meeting. It is in the very heart of the Strath, a small clearing that will serve well for it’s intended purpose. It is how Teaghlaigh was structured to deal with situations of this gravity and severity. He can no longer ignore it, can no longer brush it under the rug as he had, at first. He had tried, and he had broken a tenant by making the executive decision to move Teaghlaigh without talking to The Family about it first. There hadn’t been any time and the path forward had been achingly clear to Arturo. His time frame had been small and he knows that the move has put the most stress on Lotte. All that he can hope is that he has not brought about the death of their children. She should not have been moved, not so close to giving birth as she is. He had been backed into a corner, he had been forced. It was stay and always worry, always be suspicious, looking over his shoulder waiting for Blackfeather Woods to return and to slaughter his children. Ravensblood Forest had been a risk — a risk that he was not willing to take any longer.

His salmon pink tongue draws across his jowls as he takes a deep, heavy breath. He has done far worse for far less and the decision, this time, will not be his alone to make. He calls for those of the Family, beckoning them to him so they may conduct their business. He straightens as they trickle in, taking his place at the head of the crowd, his fiery gaze touching each of them. “You are called to this meeting as both jury and judges. In Teaghlaigh when wolves have been demoted to the disgraced rank they are given a trial where the Family passes their judgement and decides what punishments will follow,” He addresses them, firm and professional. This is not his first time Teaghlaigh has passed judgement on someone who has wronged them, but it is the first time that the wolves in question still remain among their ranks living well. He had not wanted this, had not wanted to be in a situation where his paw is forced but as Ceannasach he cannot ignore the sacrifices that Teaghlaigh has made, especially it’s newer recruits who have had it forced upon them so soon after their acceptance without any idea of why it was happening. It showed an instability and the fact that the star-crossed lovers remained, healthy and (relatively) happy but at the bottom of the ranks made Arturo feel like he is seen as an incapable leader (regardless of if it is actually true or not).

“@Dakarai and @Olive stand trial today,” He calls forth the disgraced pair so they could stand in the middle of the gathering. “Their trespass on Blackfeather Woods brought the hostile Blackfeather wolves to our doorstep. Trouble like those wolves do not just give up, do not just forget. Few among us are trained fighters,” His gaze breaks away from the group to touch upon his heavily pregnant wife. She and Chusi are the only two to hold the Mercenary rank. A pregnant woman and a young woman not even fully mature yet. “As Ceannasach, I must look out for the Family. It is my duty to make the hard decisions,” He draws his tongue across his jowls again, his lip curling back ever so slightly. “I have uprooted you without first coming to you. It is a decision I made because time is not a luxury we could afford, because I have to think about what is best for this Family.” Getting them out of the crosshairs of the Blackfeather wolves had been his priority right under getting Lotte settled somewhere safe where she could give birth to their children and not have to worry about wolves coming to slaughter them while they slept or romped around, or when they came of age: got a little too adventurous.

“Dakarai had suffered an injury and lost his memory while he and Olive were away,” His molten gaze burns as it seeks the pair. “Instead of returning to the Family so we can work out a solution together Olive took it upon herself to fix him herself. She took him to Blackfeather Woods borders where she then trespassed. They were attacked by the Blackfeather wolves and ran back to Teaghlaigh, injured. Their trail, in turn, led the Blackfeather wolves right to our door. What bothers me most is that the Blackfeather wolves did not come right away, but the fact that they had known the way despite the time that had passed since the transgressions I can only conclude that they had been scouting us out.” He does not know for sure but it is the only thing that makes sense. Of course, he realizes that this means that they might not even be safe in their Strath but Arturo has to have a little faith lest his paranoia awake something in him he does not want to be let loose.

“Because the threat of the Blackfeather wolves remains we have sacrificed our home in Ravensblood Forest to harbor the pair who are solely responsible for this. This crime cannot go unpunished. Teaghlaigh has suffered too much for a reckless and foolish decision of two.” Olive, at the time, being a leader, his trusted red herring, no less. Her betrayal hurts him the most. He had trusted her, literally, with his life and she had thrown it all back in his face. “The only punishment for this sort of betrayal is banishment,” He speaks the words firmly, despite the cold that rushes through his veins. There is no fire of wrath, only the sting of ice. “but they have infants we need to think of. Infants that can barely walk, are blind and deaf to the world around them.” He brings to attention the dilemma. “Infants that if forced to bear the punishment with their parents will live only a few days, a week at most without Teaghlaigh.” Dakarai and Olive were not enough to keep their infants alive and that is the stone cold truth. It took a whole pack to raise pups, to keep them alive and sometimes ...not even a whole pack could prevent the death of a child. “What I suggest,” Ceannasach drew in a quiet, steel edge to his smoky timbre. “is that the infants, innocents in this matter, be allowed to remain in The Family. With us, they have the best, if we are not their only chance of survival. We will raise them and allow Olive and Dakarai visitation rights in two months time. Twice a month on neutral ground with a pupsitter and guard from Teaghlaigh as escorts,” Because despite how heartless and cruel Arturo Fearghal is, he is a father first and foremost and he knows what it is like to have children and to not see them. It has been almost a year since he has seen his eldest children — over a year in the case of Bowie — and the knowledge causes him worry despite that they are all well and grown. It is a hard thing to face and he is a business man. He makes deals. Compromise is what he is good at, but so, too, is finding the upper hand. “And when the children come of age to join the adult ranks they will be given the choice all children of Teaghlaigh have: they can choose to stay with the Family or branch off to be with their parents.”

“Children should not be made to suffer or die because of something they have no control over, but you all have a vote, a chance to give voice to your opinions and I will listen.” but to banish them all is an option, as well. That choice remains at the paws of The Family. And so Ceannasach falls silent and waits for The Family to give their say.

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Hemlock finds that she is never beyond the borders of the Strath and doubts she will be again until the new batch of children have been born. It's almost like she is a mother-to-be herself, finding a hope in the Fearghal children that perhaps their arrival will herald the end of the chaos that Teaghlaigh has endured. True to his word Arturo has called a meeting and as she gathered with the wolves present she feels a sense of foreboding. Hemlock doesn't know if the others are aware of what the meeting is about; perhaps they assume something more benign like the fact they've moved and just laying out matters of establishment like hunting and sentry duty. She knows the truth and while she can't imagine what was going through the head of their punished she knows the consequences have struck every member of Teaghlaigh and their time for protecting and ignoring the crimes of the pair are done. 

She takes a seat and remains quiet as the rest until Arturo has laid out the details before them - the Dakarai had been injured, and for some reason Olive transgressed against Blackfeather, but it opens more questions than it provides the answers for. She feels the distance will help, the Wilds are large and it is easy to hide in but an entire pack while their numbers are still vulnerable? She is uncertain and it is a feeling she dislikes. "There is another pack nearby who values mercenaries and demands spars of any who come to its borders. The Golden Glade is what they call themselves, and I met them under my former name." She has no position or leverage to suggest an alliance of any sort but she could barter her services to sweeten the deal with the pack nearby. If the Blackfeather wolves came for them, perhaps then, a band of warriors would be useful to their cause. The information still needs to be presented and while this meeting is not about the Glade it could work to their advantage all the same.

"If they take their children they will surely perish. Three mouths to feed with no help to support them would be a death sentence." She echoed Arturo's words, the truth in them as grim as the prospects they faced. "I am old enough to serve as wetnurse but I am reluctant to give the borage I have found to myself and not save it for Lotte." Hemlock might have fancied herself cold and distant now, but, they are babes none the less and they should not be forced to death for the mistakes of others. "They should only need a few weeks as they transition to meat to conserve the herbs." She glanced along the wolves present, wondering what their thoughts were. Banishment seemed appropriate to her - and it was less a conversation of what should happen to the adults as it was to the children. "Olive and Dakarai should not be allowed to continue on with no consequence - banishment seems appropriate. They have been harbored and given a haven and we have kept them safe as we moved. It is generous enough to send them out now rather than before. Their chances to hide are far greater here."

Without knowing the ages of the other females in the pack - she has kept herself removed from them, still, she can only offer herself to serve as a nanny. It does not delight her, and in some ways it makes her bristle with indignation, but she does not serve herself first. She serves Teaghlaigh. She does not know the other adults well enough to ensure that they would take the duty properly either, to not be mother not nurse, but Hemlock doubts she could hold her tongue and not tell the truth of things. She's always been a realist, sugarcoating was never her strong suit, but she would not want to taint a child against their parent without just cause. 

PP of the pups aqnd olive's wherabouts near him. lemme know if change is needed. also tagging them for visibility and in case they wish to post. @Aries @Cassiopeia @Sirius

Dakarai sat through this meeting silently his ears pinned back against his head as he sat with the babes tucked near his body. The words spoken so far had brought an immense sense of anger and coldness to his heart, and he regarded both Hemlock and Arturo with no shame of the anger in his eyes. It was not anger of the decision but that they suggested taking his children from him and Olive's side. They could care for children  themselves, it was no longer cold or snowy much anymore being spring. The prey would be active and there would be small prey running about enough for Dakarai to keep Olive's milk flowing, If not feed himself. 


He would not allow his children to be taken from them "Shall you forcibly take them from me and Olive's side? Oh do we have a choice in this matter and time to discuss it amongst ourselves?" He asked coldly. His words were not rude but nor were they the cowering ass kissing he usually gave to Arturo. Dakarai would convince Olive to bring the children with them, or at least would give it his very best. He had said from the moment they returned that Arturo would tear their family apart, despite it being his and Olive's own fault he felt disgusted. If it were Lotte and him who had fallen in the same situation the pair would be regarded with nothing but sympathy and care when they returned.


He pulled his children closer and gave Olive a long look full of many emotions "We can't let them tear us apart Mo Cuishle" he whispered sadly.

;-; ♥

@Sirius @Cassiopeia @Aries

Just a friendly reminder to the puppy players: at this current developmental stage, “eyes open and are blue at 11-15 days but their eyesight is not fully developed and pups cannot perceive forms until weeks later.” Ears are not erect yet and they will likely not be able to make sense of the foggy sounds they hear around them. This also goes for the other threads since the move from Ravensblood Forest, as the cubs would have been even younger and smaller upon initial departure [eight days old]. Please refer to this page or this post in the Guidebook and keep this in mind in all threads leading up to this point. ^^

Sorry for the double tag! ♥ Just trying to keep it real, as the cool kids say.

The argent and onyx Banríon, while physically present, was mentally and emotionally ruled by the pulling, twisting pains that threatened to consume her. It was all she could do to breathe her way through them, dry of mouth and clenched of jaw, and to try to hold on to Solene’s stoic dignity for the duration of this trial. Now and again she broke her introspective silence to pant raggedly, but she was still and quiet as her mate explained the reason he’d called them to order. At Lotte’s own behest, she flanked her mate just slightly, tucked into his shadow and partially concealed by the strath’s abundant foliage. She lay curled on her side, her attention trained inward as the dizzying sensations tore through her; and she was wracked now and again with a sporadic sort of shivering. Her body temperature had dropped significantly, but she felt as though she was burning — and it was difficult for her to focus wholly on the trial despite her best efforts.

Lotte kept quiet as she considered Ceannasach’s position in all of this, weighing the wellbeing of Teaghlaigh against the horrifying idea of keeping a new mother from seeing her children. She considered Olive’s feelings — she considered her former jealousy of the woman — and she did her level best to turn off her heart’s wild clamoring. It was the most impartial thing, in this case, not to feel. Hemlock’s pragmatism was to be praised: it was generous, in the grand scheme of things, to cast them out in a region untouched by the strife they’d been forced to flee. It was when Lotte’s thoughts circled back to the discussion of the children, though, that she found her voice — and she was surprised at how stripped of warmth it was, but she was equally unable to stop: “No matter your sentence, if my cubs do not live,” she said quietly, rising from her prone position to press into the circle of wolves and make herself seen and heard, “I will not suffer yours to live.” She spoke directly to the disgraced twain, her coal-capped tail arching high above her back as she lifted her head and fixed them with an intense stare and a somber expression.

It was a heartless decree — and perhaps opposed to what her husband and Hemlock proposed — but in her travail Lotte could see nothing else clearly. She knew that the pain she felt was unnatural — that even the strongest warriors were not made to fight or travel or scout when their time drew this near — and she feared that her babes would die. Fear was paramount in Lotte’s decision making process, but instinct ruled her as well: she was alpha, and if her children died as a result of this forced exodus, she would let no other female’s whelps — especially an omega’s — survive to usurp Chusi’s place. Dakarai’s biting response fueled her decision, and her posturing made the slow, inexorable tick from dominance to aggression. Her muzzle wrinkled, revealing the barest flicker of alabaster cutlery as her hackles bristled and she took one menacing step forward. “I am Banríon,” bespoke her stance, long before she calmly suggested: “Yield, Dakarai.”

“Comrades,” Lotte said, giving the pair on trial what respect she could even as a growl scraped her timbre to a guttural roughness, “where I come from, a soldier who willfully makes decisions or takes action without the strength of her — her unit — or the sanction of her commander,” she found the Common equivalents of her Tundran terms with varying degrees of success, “is cast out. This is familiar to me — because a soturi who acts alone endangers all.” She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “This is not the Enok Tundra and Teaghlaigh is not a warband, I know — but this is a case where my upbringing and my husband’s upbringing align. Jumalauta, helvetti vieköön,” she swore, casting a pointedly sorrowful gaze at Olive. “I did not want this for us,” she said to the older female, perhaps betraying her emotional weakness on some level, “but my hand is forced. You acted without the Family — yet you have been nursed back to health, fed, and sheltered. Your children were born safely in a place my children will not see for months — if they live.”

Sirius was ill. The journey had taken a terrible toll on his little body, and he could no longer hold his head up or roll over or explore. He could hardly keep his eyes open as he laid in the warm fold of his family, shivering from a cold that would not leave him. The more he shivered, the more exhausted he became, until there was nothing but aching and chill over his body, and he could no longer keep his tiny mouth from piping a pitiful sound.

Help me, he said to his mother. Please, make it go away. I am hurting, make it stop. More meaningless whimpers escaped him as he wiggled toward his mother's side, too tired to toddle toward her as he'd been learning to do so well. All he could do now was beg.

posting this now because the rest of the week is crazy busy, but know that Olive speaks only after everyone else in the family does.

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When a call from Arturo pulled her family from their nest amongst the strait’s sanctuary, she knew not the reasons why. The sylph simply picked up a babe up in her mouth, nodded towards her the dark knight who held the other two in his own, and they moved onward towards the sound. Such was how they traveled nowadays — wordless, child laden, yet rife with love and understanding. 

Then, when Arturo pulled the family’s inner circle close and conducted a trial, she still knew not the reasons why. For the longest time it felt like a morbid joke, a farcical writ of habeas corpus, a threatening pretense that Arturo would soon break — but he never did — and as Olive sat with Dakarai, three mewling cubs nestled against their limbs, realization dawned on her. Her feathered ears swept down and back, pressing hotly against her skull. Her throat grew tighter and tighter, her tongue drier and drier, and within her chest she experienced an agonizing hurt. While the rest of her body discernibly resisting that was being fed to her, her moony gaze fell listlessly [blindly] at some point on the ground in front of her paws. The sylph could not bring herself to look into the eyes of those who believed she was their enemy; her family, who so eagerly bankrolled Arturo’s unending callousness. 

In turn, each the wolves she held closest defamed and maligned her and her family. Dakarai spoke, but was censured forthwith by Lotte — and Olive could see nothing of the Queen’s hurt in the blatant face of her own. The mother grit her teeth and bit her tongue and tasted the tang of blood [a taste she so hated] but the sting did nothing to take attention away from panic at hand. Did the horrors of winter know no end?!  The sylph thought it was over when those Blackfeather Fuckers expulsed the trespassers from their land; then she thought it was over when the lovers wounds had healed; again when Blackfeather Woods came and left; and finally once more when three innocents entered the world, born of her womb. Then it was promised that their ultimate salvation laid nestled in the hinterlands, and so Olive had been torn from her birthing bed to slog across the wilds for days on end — coaxed onwards by the promise of safety, utopia and the possibility of mended relationships.

but it was their utopia, not hers

and just when hope and safety had finally felt theirs, life dealt the star crossed lovers another crushing blow. After all members of the family stated their peace [each and every one of the heathens acting as if they wouldn’t have made the very. same. decision.], Olive could no longer bide time nor her tongue. “No,” she gasped weakly — unable to believe she was actually having to safeguard her own babes from Arturo, Lotte, Chusi and the wolf who was once known as Isley. It was a favor, they said — as if they were a mother and father so incapable of caring for her children that they would deign to strip her of them. “No!” she cried louder, her voice strangled as it escaped her throat. Her and Dakarai, they were not bad; the sylph refused to believe that, no matter how often the world [and her own conscious] told her it was so. It was they who were bad and she who was good, fighting alongside her dark night to spread peace across the land — only that the prophet and her message of heartsease had been stifled by the mirage of packhood; seduced by the security of dependency. 

But Olive did not bring peace to the land as she thought she would have; instead, she brought ruin to everyone she encountered... Late the mother would labor endlessly over the grisliness of this idea, but not now. Her children needed her to be present — to keep them from the hands of hypocrites who would oust a simple wife and simple husband for a choice they would make themselves. The shrouded tempest would not see them corrupted at the hands of her once family, now enemies. “You would pluck newborn babes straight from their mother’s breast?” Dakarai was right about it all, right about everything! Oh, why did the druid not listen to the man; and why did he love her so deeply that he left her to make such decisions, unchallenged and unchecked? Why hadn’t he forced her to flee, to abscond with their fetal children when they had the chance? Truthfully, Olive knew why: Dakarai’s love language was providing and protecting — so whatever Olive wanted, Dakarai spoiled her with. When she wanted travel, they traveled. When she wanted to feel her body quicken with his seed, he more than happily obliged. When she wanted to ignore Arturo's threads, he heeded. Even when Dakarai was not Dakarai and they reeled from the loss of his memory, still he followed her into the jaws of hell — and when Dakarai wanted them to flee Teaghlaigh’s darkness, but Olive protested and wished to stay… well, he gave her just that. But now Olive wanted something that Dakarai could not give her.

and she wanted it more than all of those things combined.

“You lie to assuage the guilt you all feel. You know this is wrong. There is no justice in… in this” the mother seethed. “They will be given no choice when they come of age, for you’ve made the decision for them. My whelps are to be indoctrinated into a culture jaded by their caretaker’s misunderstandings — made to believe we are… their enemies.” The piebald lovers were the farthest thing from the cubs enemy, they were their creators! Olive knew this to be true, even though these bystanders determined it was not so. Olive knew it, because whenever she looked upon her babes, the mother felt nothing but pure and divine light blossom within her heart.They were hers. She smelt them when they were born and knew it was so. The waif felt their nascent little bodies from within, knew the pains of delivering them into the world. They were her children and no one could strip her of this.

 If nuzzling against her first born had been the best feeling in the world, then this certainly was the worst. 

The betrayal stung harshly. A fair trial would not, could not, be found here! Their jury [the arbiters of her barren future] was comprised of a man with a god complex, a woman in the late stages of pregnancy, a girl having an identity crisis amongst others, Let Arturo play god if he so wish — but her family would not continue to live under his tyranny. Who was this mortal man to make the decisions of the stars? At this point, tears freely wept down her face, not for the loss to Teaghlaigh but for the loss of her sweet babies. Olive bent her nose down and luxuriated against the feel of her maw presses into Sirius’s small, quivering body. He was sick. He needed his mommy. “I— I can nurse still,” she begged, her small voice contrasted against the anger she felt moments before and looking at the wolf once called Isley. If there was limited borage, it made no sense to waste away their mother’s milk — and might give her more time to figure out a solution. “Please,” she continued, gaze incandescent with hot tears and shifted to Lotte… supplicating her, mother to mother. “Let me nurse them.” Then, the mother looked at Ceannasach.

“Arturo, please.”

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the girl was not pleased in the slightest. 
she was exhausted, and though she did not share in her brother's illness, being woken and carried out somewhere,  where cold nipped at her and confusing shapes and confusing sounds made this experience far from pleasant. she hunkered low beside the one constant in her life thus far, her mother, made of warmth and comfort. and yet even this was not enough.

any attempt at sleep was stifled by the sounds, the unfamiliarity of the place and the tension and mess of emotions she could sense lay heavy on this place. her irritation rose steadily, though she was silent, constant shuffling the only sign of her agitation. until she had enough, and from her maw forced a high-pitched cry, a demand that this uncomfort be amended, and soon.

While the journey had not been hard for the young butterfly physically, it was mentally that it almost crippled her. Seeing her mother, bloated and pregnant slugging along with their band through unknown lands into debatable safety was truly heart-breaking and simply wrong in the warrior's mind. She could not imagine being a mother and perhaps didn't even wish to be one now that she had seen what pregnancy could bring despite all the joy and offspring - but she could imagine how her father had forced them all to endanger a new mother, a pregnant woman and puppies that could barely do anything but sleep, pee and poop yet; he had run out of options. With the Blackfeather Fuckers on their former trail, there was no telling what they could and would do; what allies they did and didn't have. It was a risk to travel so far, yet it was an even bigger risk to stay and let fate decide what would become of them. Perhaps she had become a blind follower of her father's words, but even then did this all seem logical when she considered how Arturo thought about most things. It must've pained him, too, to see Lotte like this - traveling half across Teekon with a belly full of babes.

She had already seen the place they would soon call home, and yet even when they got their did it feel unpleasantly new. The situation drained her of her positivity about the new lands and pulled her from exploring like she would normally do. It came as no surprise that a meeting was called not long after their arrival and Chusi took her rightful place fairly near to her parents and stared blankly at the accused pair. She listened intently, agreeing with almost every word said and listened then to the ones who decided to speak up. It was the first time she saw Lotte so emotional - so terrifyingly vulnerable that it twisted her insides. Her hatred for their deeds was fuelled - perhaps even so much that it blinded her, but she did have something to say when Dakarai spoke up.

"Shall you forcibly take them from me and Olive's side? Oh do we have a choice in this matter and time to discuss it amongst ourselves?" 

The coast's butterfly stood slightly and sneered even less; her face a calm state of rage, disapproval and hurt that was eerily close to being at peace. Ya wanna choose whethah they live o' die? Sendin' 'em with ya'll, even if ya're thah parents, would mean their death. She said loud and clear, not interrupting anyone (or so she hoped). She then lifted her gaze and landed it on her father. I am fo' their banishment - we keep thah pops safe 'n fed until they're ol' enough. We all lost our home because of 'em 'n now they must suffah thah consequences. She poke quite calmly and took her seat back at her former spot again.

For a moment did her eyes flicker to Olive; the sweet yet "not all there" mother who was perhaps mostly blamed for all that had happened. She looked to the puppies, wriggling and making sounds she had once made in the darkness of her Monster Mother's den. They were lucky... all the pups born inside the safe hands of Teaghlaigh were lucky for they were wanted and not alone. Chusi could think of no safer place for the newborns to be and for that did not see it unfair that the parents were not allowed to take them with them on a journey that would ultimately mean their death; not even with spring causing the flowers to bloom and the snow to melt did the two to-be lone wolves have a chance of supporting their whole family. One had to be watching the kids while the other could then only hunt small game; young deer, at most. It was not what a whole family could live off of and, honestly, Teaghlaigh was doing them a favour. This, again, made Chusi further believe in how perfect and wonderful her own family and especially her father was; he thought of everything.

It showed that, even without a biological mother, a young girl or boy could one day become one the more valuable parts of an adoptive family. Hell; Chusi had never even met her father and she turned out alright. She understood the parents were broken and pissed at the moment, but, perhaps, if they simply accepted they would soon realize it wasn't all that bad... Was it?

A lot of things are happening in this thread, so let me know if anything in this post doesn't add up!

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The brute was still ruffled by the fact he had been forced out of the territory he had sought to make his home, bringing truth to his greatest fear about settling among a pack where women and children dominated the force they had against outside threats, leaving him only to simmer in his own fury as a meeting was ajourned, one where he was to sit in the presence of those who had done him wrong. As a seasoned vigalante, the burning pit of his innermost desires yearned for the silencing of his tribulations, tribulations that took the form of three infant children and their parents; and he is not above it. The quivering mother in question begs to speak, pleading for a mercy that she does not deserve while Rollo remains silent until he can no longer; voice booming and quaking with an emotion that toppled beyond simple agression into unparralleled rage. "Shut up," The tank of a man steps forward with a thud of his paw, deattached eyes filled only with simmering disgust veered to Oilve herself; his ears pinned back as his hackles raise as true sign of is wholly barbaric choler. "How are you beg,"

"How dare you fucking beg after what you and your family has done,"

His stance awaits the call to push beyond what he is able to controll, and as he warps into what exists in the blackness of his soul, he recognises no mercy within his heart. Turning to the commander himself, he looks straight at Arturo with eyes flickering of both truth and something unidentified, dangerous.

"They cannot be trusted with the safety of this pack,"

"Who is to say their spawn will not inherit the same genes that got us into this shit show," providing an ulterior perspective; the distaste of both parents and their kin apparent in every word he speaks, drawing his speech from the depths of his own fears and implanting it into the minds of those who listened. And it is this unbreakable fear that grips him, enslaves him to accept that these children will put him in danger once again. His views of the fate of the children are unlike his friend's, and as he had grown to detest the parents, he accepts the hate of their offspring with ease. Rollo has known paternal instinct, but he has not grown the ability to feel an unwaranted empathy towards some kids that should not have been born in the first place. But Arturo is a different man, a man filled with the expectancy of his own kin, and Rollo would not be able to con him of his own instinct. He will want to save the children, Rollo knows this. But he must not let it happen; thinks the man who's assurancy that Olive's childen must not live is founded upon his own unstability, his fear. And nothing could save the man from what his own nightmare's produced, not when he so readily believed it could become a reailty.

Nevertheless, the Ceannasach had wanted his opinion, and Rollo, or the demon he had become in that moment, he was unable to hold anything back. "What happens to their bastards will be the fault of their choices, not the outcome of the Cennasach's overly abundant generosity. None of that family have any place here, dead or alive," He looks to the family as he says this, eyeing down not only the wife but her husband; the man who could not keep his wife in line even while she was heavily pregnant, the catalyst of the wolves of Blackfeather Woods landing on their doorstep.

"They forfieted that right when they managed to drive us from our own fucking territory," The brute of a man snarls, the small of his back bristles with a budding fury as his hackles unconsiously rise, the. Indirectly, Dakarai and Olive managed to bring truth to his own doubts, threatning what he holds most dear-- his sense of security. By experiance does he know that the apple does not fall far from the tree; the kin of a man like Dakarai will be no different than their sire, and the outcome was something he himself was not capable of risking. As far as Rollo was concerned, neither Dakarai, Olive or their pups were worthy of what it meant to be apart of the Family, coming from a man who had not even come to terms with his place in it either.

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this round ends sunday, april 9th — there is no posting order but please try to only reply once unless it's necessary to post a second time before the end of the round.

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Arturo realizes now that he has made a grave mistake. He can see it now that it is long passed but re-analyzing it puts into focus what he has done wrong and reinforces how he will handle situations like it in the future. The night that the pair returned to Teaghlaigh bloodied and broken he should have cut them from The Family right then and there. He has allowed them to think of themselves as victims and he assumes now that they think The Family is picking upon them. As if they are innocent. Still, after everything that is how they continue to paint themselves. It must be so because why else would they keep asking things of him? As if they have the right to request anything of him and The Family. As if he and The Family are mistaken. Arturo speaks things as they were presented to him and the wolves of Teaghlaigh were capable of making their own decisions. Arturo had no desire to convince them to see his way because he didn’t need to: they did it on their own. “You have no right to request anything of me or this Family,” The gangster snarls at them, lifting his lip as his tail curls over his back as he takes a daunting step towards the accused pair with hackles bristling. “Am I fucking clear?!” Because he’s had enough of the “woe-is-me” act. “Choice?” Arturo scoffs at the pair. “Why should we give you a choice? I should have chased you from my fucking borders when you crawled back to us bloodied and broken with treason on your lips. You have earned no choice from us.” He is angry and he feels justified in his position on this. He is Ceannasach and his word is fucking law and if anyone didn’t like it they could get out of his Family.

“Does that surprise you?” Arturo asks Olive softly but his smoky timbre is not gentle. It is something smooth and sinister. He is not a good man. He has earned his reputation as gangster the way all do: by being ruthless and calculating. It would do Teaghlaigh good to remember who sat upon it’s throne — in case he, at any moment, had failed to make himself clear. “I would fucking kill them, if that is what it takes.” He had made that threat. Subtly, of course, but it had seems to have gone largely ignored. When push came to shove Arturo is not afraid to take action. “Lie? About what have I or anyone else lied about? Your child is ill, perhaps on the cusp of death and yet you continue to speak as if you have any fucking idea what being a parent means.” Duana hadn’t let their newborn babes out of the den until they were near two months old and even then it was well supervised and never far. “You speak of wrongness and justice as if you two have not broken one of Teaghlaigh’s cardinal rules. The Family before Everything Else. To compromise this Family is to bring death upon your head.” Arturo was fairly certain he hadn’t left that out in either her recruitment or Dakarai’s joining.

Olive’s pleas and begs fall upon deaf ears. He is done sacrificing for them, done catering to and protecting them. He has asked Teaghlaigh for too much for the pair. No more. “I am not sure how you twist visitation rights into turning them against you. They should be made to know the truth and they can decide what they think of it without interference either way. All children have a choice. I have no interest in harboring wolves who have no interest in being apart of The Family.” He’d sooner feed them to the proverbial wolves than harbor dead weight who refused to do anything for Teaghlaigh. That was senseless. Rollo makes a good point as he strides forward to give his opinion. Aside from Arturo’s own generosity and kindness in the completely non-kind way of showing kindness he thinks about why it is fair for Teaghlaigh to be responsible for the pair’s children? How was it fair of him to ask them to raise and feed and shelter bastard children? It wasn’t. If his own children survived, Teaghlaigh would already have their hands full with his and Lotte’s litter. If they survived. “This Family feels no guilt for those who have wronged us. We will sacrifice no more. You will be escorted out of this pack and furthermore out of these Hinterlands. The moment you are clear of these borders a kill on sight order will be placed upon you and your children. Stay away from this pack and stay out of these Hinterlands.” He would not make the same mistake that he did on the coast — he wanted control of the Hinterlands. “Sirius will stay with us. He is ill and without Hemlock’s attention he will die. A small sacrifice to pay for what you have put this Family through.” If they wanted the ruthless gangster well…now they got him.

“Now get the fuck out of my pack and stay away from my Family.” He moves towards them to seize the shivering, ill babe, ready to defend himself if the banished attack.

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so short but I want to get this posted!  

 

Hemlock snarled, making no secret of her contempt as Dakarai spoke. It seemed everyone in the family agreed and saw things the way as she did - practically, with the realistic approach of someone who could not bare to face anything but the truth. "What, are you many who can do all tasks? Fight and protect while you hunt and tend to your young? How misguided were we, to miss what a god hide among us!"  Hemlock sneered cruelly, pelt a blaze of red fire as she worked out her own anger with a show of teeth and the angry curl of her lips. "You have damned your own whelps and perhaps those of your leaders and you have no remorse in your heart for what you have done to all of us."  Hemlock had not involved the pack in her retribution, she had done things on her own and brought back the grim skull of her victim. Her husband's memory would be served. 

Lotte suffered the most of them all, and Hemlock's gaze did soften when the leader spoke, only because she saw the pain there and the mask that held it firmly at bay. "You gave us no choice - and now you have none. Bare your punishment with the same disregard that brought us all this misery." Hemlock would not take out her frustration on the pup. She would not betray her code and creed, she would keep the babe safe and she would raise it with dignity and understand - no secrets would be kept from the small pup, and god willing he would grow to an adult to make the choice for himself with all the Knowledge his parents had ignored. 

This was not my original plan for what I wanted Lotte to do, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ANYTHING GOES WHEN YOUR CHARACTER IS HORMONAL AMIRITE

Tempers begin to fly and the soot-stockinged rogue’s maw gapes into a widening snarl as the strange pulsing, pulling, and tugging pains in her lower abdomen intensify in time with the situation at hand. Banríon embraces the pain — she uses it. “Sirius will stay,” Lotte echoes with clear, crisp confidence, her argent gaze pinning down each member of the circle with fierce alacrity. “Aries and Cassiopeia will go with their sire and dam, but Sirius will stay under Hemlock’s care. The trip would kill him, if this illness does not.” Her gaze falls to Olive. “There are packs outside the hinterlands,” she says. “There is a pack dwelling in the evergreen wood just south of Ravensblood Forest and a mountain pack south of there.” Lotte has no love for the disgraced pair, but she is not a cruel wolf, no matter what the misted druid may believe. The songbird has no desire to add to the vitriol; she just wants the meeting to be over so she can ensconce herself in the King Sequoia and surrender in private to her pain.

“Rakas, please — wait,” she murmurs to Arturo, speaking to Olive but watching the gangster’s black-masked visage. “You will leave with @Declan,” she states, tipping back her head to call for the guardian, a terse, urgent summons. “You will nurse your son and wish him well, and then you will leave as Ceannasach commands.” Lotte beseeches Arturo to stand with her on this, her silver eyes transfixed by his incandescent hellfire glare. Quietly she attempts to reason with him, a heavy weariness in her eyes. “It will not drain the pack’s resources to allow her this — and it will save Hemlock the borage,” she licks her lips, the unfamiliar word falling clumsily from her tripping tongue, “should she or I need to take it.”

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It was all far too much and Olive soon completely lost her train of thought, every thought evanescing into a haze of distress upon her initial thinking of it — her every utterance was borne on intense desperation; a visceral need to keep her family intact. To keep her progenies close to her being, to nourish their minds and to keep them where such vileness could not touch them. They were to be soldiers of light, all three of them, instead of the soldiers of darkness she now saw the wolves of Teaghlaigh to be. Olive did not fit in here, never did. Olive hadn’t the heart or soul to pass the sentence they passed unto her, and it awed her to glimpse this macabre side of them — a side she had never seen before now. Why now? Why accept her and Dakarai home, nurture them, give them hope and a sense of false security? The idea of banishment had not been foreign to the star crossed lovers and had been exhausted as a topic of conversation during their flight from the Blackfeather Fuckers.  But no — the mother had experienced the utmost relief when Ceannsach had accepted them back into his bleeding forest. It was all over she had thought to herself, she could birth her pups and raise her children in the relative safety of the family; but it was only to get worse.

“Yes! I do beg! I do!” she cried as Rollo bade her to do the exact opposite. Her life would not be dominated by a man who was a relative stranger her, even if it required debasement of her dignity to do so. Arturo called her a bad mother and she grit her teeth against such an accusation. She knew she wasn’t. Olive’s relationship with her newborn babies had changed drastically since they exited her womb and became mewling, crawling jewels of heather grey and solid obsidian — distinct realities with different personalities and inclinations, real wolves. Olive would not let them be taken from her side. The mother was dedicated to them every beyond her own belief.

“Arturo…” She supplicated solely to gangster cloaked in darkness, the man who once treated her with such kindness. He had elevated her to act as his red herring, for gods sake! Could an affinity that ran so deep evaporate so completely. “I beg for my heart and soul, for the familial love you once bore me… do not turn us away.” Deep inside, the doe knew it was a futile effort. “We are not the monsters you make us out to be.” Arturo had made his mind and announced it to the family — to rescind now would be to show weakness. Ceannasach was not a man who liked show weakness.

As the mother realized he [nor any other of the teaghlaigh wolves] would not yield, she peered down at the three babes that nuzzled into her limbs. It was unthinkable, untenable, to even imagine severing such a bond. Doleful eyes peered up to her husband, who seethed with rage and wishing to prevent the happening just as much as she did. Was he destined to have his children torn from him yet again? Perhaps it was even worse this time, since they would actively be turned into wolves who only knew their parents to be selfish criminals; at least, with Dakarai’s first litter [who had perished], that was not such a possibility. It was a morbid connection, but that’s where Olive’s destroyed heart was at that moment. Olive couldn’t help but twitch her upper lip in utter agitation, glimpsing just the tip of her ivory fangs. “Any remorse I harbored has now died,” she sneered at each wolf in attendance, the arbiters of her weeping fate. “Pikkusisko” she spat.

Arturo turned to leave and Olive choked back a sob as her sentence was officially passed, the sword swung, her every plea turned away by the man who once offered her hearth and home. It was then that the queen did something most unexpected — beseeched her husband to allow her daughter to remain with them and only one of her sons.  Immediately Olive took a step forward, but knew the situation was too delicate for a disgraced woman to move upon the family and stepped back again.  Her sidereal heart was climbing out of her throat and she that knew she should be experiencing the utmost happiness, but a loss of one child stung as much as the loss of three. Olive looked down once more to the lives that twisted and fidgeted amongst the pillars of her willowed limbs and Dakarai’s strong ones, without a clue to the evil forces at work. Without a word of gratitude to the queen to gave unto the grieving mother the blessing of two] babies, Olive dropped the the ground and curled her petite, gamine frame around the tiny lives. “my poor lambs… my poor babies.” she crooned softly, pressing her forehead against the warm masses. Sirius radiated the most heat, by far, as his body worked to fight his sickness. The mother knew it was true; another trip would kill the small body, quivering and shaking in her maternal embrace. Sirius was not to die, but such a certain fate could not be promise to the babes forced to endure yet another arduous journey. Perhaps they, themselves, would not make survive their expulsion from the hinterlands. Perhaps this was not a gift, but a death sentence gussied up to look like generosity but their mummer queen.

Anger immediately dissipated in such close proximity to her three children and it was replaced with utter sadness and despair. Despite her misgivings, Olive looked at the queen and saw her physical pain. The mother had always seen it in Lotte’s mannerisms and exacerbated anger, but had chosen to ignore it until now. “Your poor babies” she uttered apologetically, as if Olive recognized her role in Lotte’s troubled pregnancy. Helpness, the pale wastrel looked up at her King, beseeching him to any semblance of comfort. As confirmation that this was nothing more than a nightmare and he would fix it all. “I just.. we…” and, unable to convey her emotions, she looked at the ground, utterly defeated, not knowing what to do next — so she nudges her three small babes towards her breast and encouraged them to latch, knowing fully it was the last meal they were to share as a complete family.

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Dakarai sat through this with silent, seething rage, It was Only when Rollo spoke up telling his wife to shut up, that Dakarai spoke once more "I dont fucking care what you think of us, but do not speak to my wife in such a way!" he snarled, his lips curling up over his fangs. The fur along his neck and spine were raised to their highest spiked level. As Arturo spoke and commanded them to leave with Cassiopeia and Aries Dakarai nodded "My pleasure" he muttered to himself bitterly. Then Lotte spoke up calling for someone to take Olive to say goodbye to Sirius, and Nurse him one last time. Tears threatened to well up in his eyes but he blinked them back with the skill of a man who has practiced ignoring his emotions.


Hurting his already broken heart more, Olive began to plead again. Dakarai Whirled around and gave Olive a urgent Nudge with his nose, and flattening his ears. His eyes begged her to stop, to fall silent again and stop the pleas that were falling on deaf ears. Finally she accepted it, though she spoke up with harsh words and a curl of her lip. He watched with despair as she lay down and curled around their children, murmuring words to both the three pups and to what seemed to be Lotte. Dakarai moved toward Olive's stomach and sought out Sirius, grooming the feverish and heated body of his son before stopping and breathing in his scent. This was when he lost it,Hard and brutal sobs leaving his body as the milk scent mixed with his and Olive's scent filled his nose. 



He had no shame for crying so openly in front of the family. In fact he even cried loudly his keening sobs filling the now silent air. After a few minutes he took a deep shuddering breath and placed a soft kiss upon his son's head. "You won't understand this when you are older, because they will teach you to hate us. remember us leanabh gille, don't forget your real family" he whispered softly into the boy's ear, knowing not a single word would be understood. Standing up he nudged Olive gently "Take whatever time they allow you, say farewell." he muttered in a broken tone.

concluding & archiving with this post. pping declan in here since he's their escort.

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Ceannasach is tired and tried beyond his limits of capacity. He only wants for peace to settle upon Teaghlaigh, for his wolves to live their lives without spending them paying for the foolish error of two. As long as the two chaos creators remained in his ranks Teaghlaigh would not know peace. Blackfeather Woods could have them he just no longer wanted them to be associated with The Family. Olive’s continued begging fell on deaf ears because he is done listening. Now, it is their turn to listen. “My mind is made, you have heard the conditions of your banishment and you will obey them. You will do best to forget about Teaghlaigh. I do not want to kill you but I will if that is what it takes to keep this Family safe.” The gangster is done with kindness. He never wants to see the star-crossed pair again, not in the Hinterlands, not around his Family. Not at all. What happens to them now is no longer his concern. They’ve been his problem for too long and he wants them gone. “Meeting adjourned.” He tells the Family that is gathered sending them on their way with a stiff nod.

He rises the call for Declan and when the monochrome male appears like a feral shadow from the boughs of the Strath Arturo issues his quiet orders to the feral commander knowing that Declan would see them done. His displeasure is evident and Arturo does not much care. The feral commander will do as he is bid and that is what Arturo seeks before he sends the star-crossed lovers and their troubles far away from Teaghlaigh. They were the problem of another pack, now. With business taken care of he turns to Lotte, ready to tend to whatever she needed of him.

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