Sawtooth Spire mach schnell

Private for @Mahler and @Stag for right now!

Wylla made sure to put a good amount of distance between herself and the rendezvous before tipping back her head and howling for Mahler and Stag to attend her. She stood upon a low ridge overlooking Windholme as the sun began to set, where she hoped crafty puppy paws would have a hard time reaching. Phaedra was good at making herself scarce these days, a fact that regularly made her heart hurt, but the girl still had a penchant for showing up at the worst times and overhearing things she ought not. This discussion wasn't for prying puppy ears.

She'd been fairly nonchalant at first about Eleuthera's warning—what kind of imbecile would try to climb Sawtooth Spire just to cause trouble among their flock?—but the more she thought about it, the more worried she became. Sagtannet flourished with pups. Putting her personal feelings on the matter aside, Wylla knew they could risk none of their youngest lives. Considering the cubs made up at least half the pack, and none were capable of fighting, she doubted they were well positioned to repel an invasion.

And from the sounds of it, one was bound to come.

praimfaya's words had rung through his head often. it added another chaos to an already heavy plate, but this one bowed him with its immediacy. sagtannet had fierce wolves among them, but his thoughts were for the children of their ranks.
he considered phaedra's scarcity; it was with a frown that he attended wylla. she had also called for young stag; he strode across the rock-studded ground, amethyst gaze filled with some inscrutable emotion.
something weighed upon her; mahler was quiet, waiting for the pale boy's arrival and his beloved's explanation.

Stag had much to think of these days, and wore a heavy expression as he answered Wylla's summons. He had been present for Eleuthera's warning, but he had also met the wolves she spoke of in the flesh. 

His young head spun; there was much to think about, and much at stake. He kept his head low as he came alongside Mahler, giving each of them a submissive wag of his tail as he attentively waited for Wylla to speak.

Vague assumptions incoming. Nothing that can't be referenced in an existing post will be mentioned explicitly.

Both parties were quick to arrive. Wylla spied Mahler first and felt a pang in her heart at the haggard state of him. She still didn't know how to feel about him on account of that thread not being done yet, but for once, Wylla put duty ahead of her emotions. Regardless of the outcome of that, this discussion had to happen.

Stag's approach was subdued and Wylla offered him a tight lipped smile. He'd been there when the faerie came to their borders. Unbeknownst to her, he knew more than either of his leaders. And she knew enough to trouble her.

We had a visitor recently from one Seelie Court, she shared with the pair, eyes bouncing carefully between them. She informed us that we have some new neighbours of the troublesome variety.

"praimfaya returned vith similar news, and scars from someone who who follows a man called donovan."
as the gargoyle spoke, he turned his gaze toward silent, obedient stag. the boy was coming into his strength, mahler felt. "she varned me to take them seriously."
wearied suddenly, not truly wishing to face their reality, but forcing himself into acceptance all the same. he could not tarry in his own mind forever

Stag’s ears flicked as first Wylla spoke of the sylph that visited their borders, and then Mahler recounted news of Praimfaya’s tour to the coast. Of that knowledge Stag had not been present for, and he fixed Mahler a curious yet subservient gaze.

He felt he must eventually share what he knew. I met them — well, Donovan’s wolves. I found Monarch and this woman was there, who kept threatening her if she came ‘near Donovan again’. There were others with her. The result of which is being kept vague as that thread is not concluded yet. With all of this bad news coming from three different angles, Stag felt he (and Sagtannet) was being funneled. He detested the feeling. Do you think we’re in danger? His brow furrowed anxiously as he glanced between the two, knowing his answer and hoping for a different one all the same.

Wylla wasn't expecting Mahler to have his own news. The lines of her face hardened when he shared what Praimfaya told him. The source of the girl's newer scars, she imagined. Wylla didn't know Praimfaya at all besides passing glimpses and hadn't bothered to ask what happened to her, but evidently, it had something to do with their neighbours. A fleeting, panicked thought ran across her mind.

You don't think they followed her here? Even as she said it, she knew it sounded ridiculous, but she also knew some wolves were hellbent on their vengeance. If Praimfaya's battle was worth seeking blood for them, maybe it wasn't a coincidence they were here in the mountains. The whispers of her paranoia were impossible to silence even when it didn't make sense.

Stag shared more, and Wylla's heart began to plummet. I guess it depends if they'd bother coming here, she said, casting a distracted look out over the river. Sagtannet's mountain valley was well protected, but they traversed it well enough. It wasn't impregnable. Difficult, sure, but these neighbours were already living in the mountains themselves. They had the fitness to make it. If they do, I'm not sure how well we can defend our position, she mused, focusing back on her companions.

Proud Mahler. From what she knew of the time she'd been away, these mountains represented a great deal to him. To defend them with his life might be his greatest desire.

And Stag. He'd never known anything but the Sunspire, his father's legacy.

Knitting her brows together, Wylla darkly said, the cost could be dire.

he held her eyes a long moment, united with wylla as he had not been for a long time. 
the world had dissolved beneath him at stag's quiet but dour admission. it seemed untenable, their position, and in his breast swelled a great anger.
he did not think the girl would have been followed; as it were, the wounds she had earned and the addition of new knowledge had turned, for him, the tide of thoughts.
diaspora. courtfall. the hollow. sagtannet. all housed in shelves of stone. he stared beyond the woman's grim expression, toward the slope of green past her shoulder. stag had been born in these mountains. his children had breathed first in sawtooth.
a muscle leapt in his jaw; the shadowpriest tamed it with a twitch of his lips and sighed. 
"ve have too many children to entertain the idea of staying," the gargoyle rumbled next, straightening in resolution. scarcely he could believe it, the words he spoke, and he looked to stag now, silently respectful of how the boy might respond.

The more that was shared between this solemn trio, the more Stag knew the answer in his heart -- their time here was coming to a close.

He had moved once before, and it had been enormously tasking. To do so again... He leveled a great sigh into the group, the first nonverbal admission of his concurring views the two wolves several years his senior spoke of. To stay here would be folly, and he knew it... While he had never loved this place (his love was placed, instead, in the people -- like Wylla, and Mahler, and Phaedra) he had come to speak of it as home.

To leave Windholme.. And Phaedra's little garden...

He bit his lip thinking of the children, who would not take the move well. Who would not understand.

At last, the boy spoke. "It would be foolish to stay." He conceded softly. "Where can we go?"

Wylla had less of a stake in this than her male companions, who'd poured everything into Diaspora and now Sagtannet. She worked hard as Eisen, to be sure, but she'd be a fool to think the pack viewed her with the same respect they did Mahler. And unlike Stag, she couldn't claim a familial tie to the mountains. Truth be told, she'd never been a fan of Sawtooth Spire and still wasn't. The only thing she would miss about the territory was the possibility of Thade's return.

To leave here felt like giving up on him. He might find his way home, if he was even alive, and they wouldn't be there to greet him. He wouldn't know where they'd gone, might never locate them again. It cracked a deep fissure in Wylla's heart to think that, but hadn't she already given up on him? She already believed he was dead, and they couldn't wait around forever, not even for her little boy.

They had to move on.

There was a creek we once knew, Wylla said thoughtfully, glancing a moment at Mahler. They hadn't been friends when they lived at Swiftcurrent Creek. More like enemies. It'd been a decently fortified territory, though, and she had a few fond memories of it. A few terrible ones, too. She swallowed thickly when she recalled that her brother had also been torn to pieces by a bear there, the truth of which she'd never learned. Maybe not the best place... But she was at a loss for what else to suggest.

Her mind lit on Ankyra Sound momentarily—several of them were familiar with the territory already—but she dismissed that thought with a mental wave of the hand. Fuck that place. Nothing good had ever come from there in Wylla's opinion, and she refused to subject her daughter, or any of their pups, to the bad juju of that accursed cove.

That was about the extent of her knowledge. She had no ideas.

unbeknownst to mahler, his thoughts followed a similar trajectory. to leave would be to finally accept that thade would not return. to leave would be to subject them all to yet another shift in territory.
already phaedra suffered; she would not comprehend why she must leave the home she had known for some farflung land away from all they had embraced.
he thought of nyx and their growing little daughters; of star and her young brood, the most vulnerable among them.
a swallow of the pine-laden air; mahler nodded heavily at wylla. "soon is best. let us head in that direction," he suggested with a roll of his shoulders. "there is something else."
the gargoyle bit back a sigh, his gaze shifting between wylla and stag. "praimfaya vill not be coming vith us. or back to sagtannet." the air of a tired salesman rubbing the back of his neck. "she told me that upon her trip to look — to search, she became involved in varning others of these 'saints.' she intended to infiltrate them. i forbade it; it is not a risk ve can take, especially not having these brutes so close. she insisted she must, challenged me. it did not end in her favor."
perhaps he had thrust praimfaya into the arms of these killing-floor savages, but in the end, it was those who were loyal to sagtannet that held mahler's focus now. 
"ve should tell the others." for a moment he considered the sea, then the thought turned to chaff and brushed away under the weight of his own breath. he was no coastal beast.

Stag’s mind was focused on how those remaining would acclimate. It would not be until later that he would realize, with some horror, that by leaving they left Thade behind forever.

He was solemn as he heard Mahler’s news about Praimfaya. An unfamiliar knife twist in his gut — some unspoken sadness or inner betrayal — but Mahler was resolute, and their focus now belonged solely on those that remained.

Stag glanced to Wylla, wondering about this creek. He had very little knowledge of any world outside of Sagtannet, and so, trusted both of them implicitly to be Sagtannet’s guide. When do we go?

This mandatory pack meeting regarding the fate of Sagtannet is now open to everyone else! To keep this relatively fast paced, let's say the next round will start August 7th, no posting order. @Star, @Calcifer and @Marble are exempt on account of the pups' young age, though you guys are welcome to join if you want! @Takiyok @Nyx @Gracious @Ciri @Phaedra @Elke @Astraeus

Wylla was silent and still as Mahler explained Praimfaya's fate, her emotions betrayed only in the side-to-side snap of her tail as she contemplated the arrogance to challenge Mahler, of all wolves. She'd had the uncomfortable sense when confronting Stryx and Connie that Praimfaya not only disagreed with her decision, but held it in contempt. Wylla might've expected someone like that to challenge her, but Mahler? He was far from perfect, but when it came to his pack, Mahler was an exceptional leader.

The loss of Praimfaya stung only because she'd been a good warrior. Otherwise, good riddance in her opinion. Despite having once been an arrogant and wild yearling herself, Wylla had neither the time nor the patience for that sort of stupidity.

It might be best if we leave before they figure out we're here, said Wylla, pressing her lips into a thin line. That was assuming they didn't already have eyes on Sagtannet. Either way, the sooner, the better. Swallowing thickly, the Eisen lifted her muzzle to howl again, this time calling the remainder of the pack to their location. She knew Star's cubs were probably a little too young for this and she didn't expect them or their mother to make an appearance as a result, but she hoped everyone else would attend with haste.

It was a rare noise to hear the call for an audience of the whole pack, Gracious was sure to answer quickly with a long-strided lope towards her eisen. She couldn't be sure what it was, perhaps a hunt or something of more concern. Gracious didn't truly care what the call was for, she was simply glad the group was convening considering the aloof nature she had found herself in recently.

Her haste from a lope to a gallop didn't serve her well, the older woman took a tumble on the slippery ground from the recent showers and landed in yucky mud. A visible brown marking stained her shoulder and smelled heavily of minerals and petrichor. Nonetheless, the mountainous woman remains loyal to heeding the call and soon finds herself in the audience of the eisen and an unfamiliar boy. Her gait is broken and she soon settled into a walk towards them, panting sligtly but soon regaining her composure. She held herself low and offers a polite nod of the head to all 3, though turns her main attention to Wylla, who she assumed was the caller.

"What brings us together?" she asked, head tilted in the slightest.

In spite of the fact that her children were very little, Star was not the most intelligent mother. Good at other things- hunting, fighting, relaying old history- but even though she had watched others raise their own pups from afar in her past, she had little idea how to do it now. Their development was a mystery- and thus she was not great at knowing or understanding their checkpoints; at what point they should be doing what. They couldn't help much now, but in her brain they were still Sagtannet, and ought to be pack members who participated like anyone else in whatever way they could.

Thus, when the pack was summoned, Star did not remain in place. Rather she stopped her children's play, encouraged them to follow her, carried them when their little legs might grow tired, and brought them to a meeting which would likely be very boring for them. When she arrived, she dipped her head in a bow to the leaders, and offered Stag a polite smile before sitting near Gracious. Little Marble between her paws as she settled on her haunches, the big boy Calcifer right beside, Star looked on expectantly to the eisens, hoping her children might listen patiently as well. She clearly knew very little about babies, but it was worth a shot.

cameo (unless acknowledged)

Marble was the explorer of the family. She was always out walking here and there by her lonsesome. It wasn't like she wanted to be alone (through she greatly appreciated her own company). Calcifer and Mother just never went as far as she did. So when Mother took her and her brother on a hike—the longest hike she'd ever been on—she was presently surprised.

They were led to a group of wolves. Some she knew, others were strangers. Marble stared at all of them and made mental notes of all their little features.

Once her job was done she laid her head against Mother's leg, her rock (Marble's favorite of the bunch) firmly held between her jaws. Whatever business being discussed would go over her head. The young girl was too small to understand or care about these things.

despite the bosom nature of sagtannet, little did phaedra know of the exiled praimfaya. she'd never kept company with the rumoured scattergood, a woman eager to smuggle herself into a dangerous pack as the contraband anlace to thrust into its heart, a pack their own sought not to get tied up with whilst imminent war forced them into a choke point. she'd been informed against her senseless intentions, and at the last verboten to go through with them, yet still she chose treason on the strength of an exaggerated self-opinion.

if it was not an act for sagtannet, it was an act for honor upon oneself, and honor was the death of duty, which begot the death of a pledged troth to what had been her family. 

ego was an unfortunate thing that many wolves defaulted to. even more unfortunate that it had been one of their own who seemingly surged with potential, but now she burned through a pyre of foolishness. 

---

"ugh, never get used to it. beastly noise." the marten complained, scuffing at gibbous ears with his paws. 
falling end over end over some white averns with burs clinging to her fur, "ohf! whad is?" phaedra pressed. she pitched up her ears, grasping for the noise her companion mithered about and recognzed her mother's voice off by heart. alas, this was not a summons for her. it was insistent and plaintive; a correspodence that canvassed the entire territory and bid muster of their whole pack.
phaedra righted herself and furrowed her brow, glancing to caintigern. then, without a word, she bolted off and began sliding down the forested slope they'd conquered, yelling "c'mon!" over her shoulder.
perplexed by her urgency and invitation, the weasel lolloped and slew clumsily behind her. "why am i going? what's happening?" he asked as they crashed to the bottom and hastened on phaedra's behest towards the assembly gathering together. "something 'pordant, and you're pack, whether they know id or not." cain smiled appreciably, though he would much less appreciate if one of phaedra's kin tried to make a meal of him, so he elected to remain out of sight, scratching up a tree. 
shouldering her way through bodies big and small— she did a double-take towards the youngest members of court, a ... well upholstered ... boy, and a girl. a confused twist formed between her brows. "hi," she said quietly, then continued to push on through, taking care to avoid the lampblack silhouette of astraeus if he was present.
as her minikin body threaded through the sea of some unfamiliar faces, it wasn't long before she reached the frontlines where the pack's retinue stood waiting. the girl did not approach or seek the gazes of her mother or father, but rather looked strangely at stag, searching with a face writ demanding of an mansplanation for this congress. 
however abruptly, her mind arrived at its own rationalising.
very much roseate, phaedra gasped and impetuously blurted out: "he's back?! you found thade?" she stirred restlessly on the balls of her feet (with burs still gummed to her legs and her fur dressed in dirt), heartened ahead of herself as her glance quickly cast round the faces that had appeared so far in search for the missing ying to her yang. she balanced on her tippy-toes, straining to see over the much taller heads. 
in the trees, wedged in the crotch of a limb and hidden well away from the eyes of stickybeaks, caintigern sighed with sadness for her and laid his chin on his paws.

Wylla's call to rally the pack brought the lioness' ears forward, yet dread settled heavily in the pit of her abdomen. She lifted her head and looked toward her nearby daughters, uncertain of the reason behind this gathering and entirely unprepared to present her cubs to the pack that, in her opinion, had rejected them. She and Mahler had been their entire world this far and while Nyx was content that they didn't need anyone else, there was some underlying bitterness that no other Sagtannet wolf had made the effort to support Mahler's brood with her.

Probably because they are of your womb, said the darkness of her paranoid mind, not Wylla's.

Nostrils flared, and she huffed a frustrated breath as she gathered to her paws and frowned deeply to herself. It wouldn't have surprised her if her suspicion proved true, for she strongly believed that the coastal she-wolf continued to harbour hatred for what happened during her reign in Grimnismal. Still, despite Nyx' frustration and uncertainty, she knew it would do her no good to avoid Wylla's summons and reluctantly she pressed on from the rendezvous to attend.

"Let's go," she barked to Ciri and Elke, probably a little sharper than normal. One was bound to complain at this request, and she was in no mood to deal with their stubbornness, so hoped each would follow without complaint. Nyx rumbled to them as they arrived, encouragement to stay close and not misbehave, and settled in the background to await instruction from their leaders.

This far, Ciri's life had been a simple one. She thrived alongside her sister and beneath her mother's watch, regularly attended by her beloved Papa. It was for him she longed that day, sprawled lazily among the wildflowers just beyond the rendezvous densite. Bored, she huffed at a lengthy stalk of grass that drooped directly over her snout, weighted with a single water droplet, until it fell to land atop the youngster's button nose.

Lifting her head, she snorted and flicked her tongue between raven lips to sweep the offending drop away. Yellowing eyes narrowed as she went on to contemplate revenge, and prepared to gather the grassblade between her teeth to be mauled when Nyx' tone demanded attention. Ciri, swift onto her paws and bounding carelessly through the fauna in her mother's direction, felt eager for a change of scenery as she urged the girls to follow.

She had not anticipated where they went. New sights and scents were great, but new faces were even better! Cirilla loped ahead, enthusiastic to meet the other children in particular, until the lioness' rumblings requested that she stay close. Tail still twitching with newfound energy, she reluctantly obliged but did not once tear her gaze away from the pallid @Phaedra, who she silently hoped would look her way so Ciri could provide the brightest, toothiest of smiles.

Mother's demand rang and if snapped Elke to attention, who otherwise had been lazily laying in the long grasses, wet with a heavy rain that had passed the night prior. She was content here, staring up at the sky, though mother's words beckoned her and she followed as her sister had. Head was lowered, for perhaps unlike her sister, Elke noticed the harsher tone of her mom, the voice she heard when one of them was in trouble. 

The blonde and cream little girl followed quick, hesitant only as she neared the gathering and all these other wolves. She was stunned but for only a moment as she then came rushing to her mother's side. 

Elke in all honesty was, well, confused for as all she had known the 'Pack' which they were of consisted of her, her sister, mother and father. Mother guarded and protected them while dad brought food and introduced them to new things. They were a pack, together. Who were all of these wolves? Why had she never seen them before? 

Her pale purple and blue gaze found her father amongst them, close to another female as they stood at attention. It was a Leader's call, though Elke did not know this. Her father did not look particularly happy. Were these other wolves friends or ones that should be chased away, like mom chased away things? Her mother didnt growl and chase so Elke kept her place next to her but couldn't help the little rumbling coming out from her throat.

second round will end august 14th. no posting order <3

mahler knew it pained wylla to call for the others, surely; they would leave behind the possibility of being reunified with their son, but she summoned them all the same. he nodded to gracious as she arrived, followed by small star and her pair of children, one quite rotund. reminded of takiyok's broad, fat son, he smiled toward the littlest ones in spite of himself.
he looked for the winterwhite then, but suddenly the meeting was commanded by the arrival of his schatzi and her piping hopefulness that thade had been found.
he dared not look to wylla as he crossed slowly to where phaedra trembled in search of the prodigal boy, lowering his muzzle with a single shake and an only-for-her audible murmur of "an einem anderen tag, meine süße."
so painful to dash her hopes in such a way, but mahler lifted his head in the next moment, catching sight of where nyx had brought their daughters to collect behind the small assembly. "ve are leaving this mountain," he declared firmly, though with an edge softened for sagtannet. "very close to us, a band of attackers has settled. vithout more varriors, ve are at risk. for the sake of the children ve must leave. for the sake of our future."
mahler did not wish to leave, not truly, but he looked to wylla, then to stag, and finally returned his lavenderstone eyes to the others. "it is best ve move as soon as possible."

Through it all, Wylla didn't say a word.

There was nothing else to share with Mahler and Stag. She waited in silence as packmates trickled in, some curious, others concerned. Of particular interest to Wylla was Star with her two cubs in tow, one of which was immense for its age. Knowing those cubs didn't belong to Mahler made it easy for her to feel warmly toward them despite not entirely agreeing with how the whole thing happened—she'd always had a little soft spot for children.

Then Phaedra's arrival struck her dumb in another way. She wished there was good news to share with the pale duckling, who now stood at least a head above the other pups in the pack at five months old. Instead, there was only the sharp knife of grief. She lifted her head just a little to conceal the wobble in her lips at the mention of Thade. The prickle of tears in the corner of her eyes made her blink a few times, rapidly, but she kept herself composed in the presence of the pack. She was grateful that Mahler rose to the task of correcting Phaedra. She didn't think she could manage a word without letting slip her tenuous control over herself.

Then Nyx and her two daughters arrived and Wylla was kept silent by the cold punch of a nameless emotion in her gut. Her gaze flickered over the trio before sliding dismissively away. It was easier to pretend they didn't exist, and Wylla was learning that she couldn't keep giving others power over her by letting them get the best of her emotions. Nevertheless, she clenched her jaws tightly together and lowered her head as Mahler spoke, unwilling to give voice to any agreement or thoughts of her own in case it came with a side dish of vitriol.

talk of thade being found by his sister was brought up, just for a moment. gracious shot her eyes towards mahler when this came, hearing only his native tongue speak to his kin before he addressed what this meeting was really about. she felt her triangular ears swivel forward quickly at the wording of leaving the spire. they hadn't been here for a long time, why did they suddenly need to move?

however, the explanation that follows soon solidifies the thought process to gracious. there were not enough wolves here to keep the claim strong, and with so many mothers and children, sagtannet was simply too vulnerable against classic warriors. after his voice left the air, gracious decided to pipe in.

"it is a wise call. while i would think the spire would be hard to navigate for the unexperienced, we don't know how many they have in their ranks," she casted her eyes towards both of her leaders, a glint of concern coated her, "but where will we go?" she holds a deep level of trust in the eisen that have guided her thus far, but she can't quell the feelings of uncertainty mixing within her heart and stomach. she can't distinguish this feeling quite yet.

more wolves materialized from hither and thither and phaedra thought with intensity of feeling that little else would occasion a conclave of the whole realm (a coronation or conjugal ceremony perhaps, but these things she'd yet to learn of, if ever) than the recovery of her missing brother. hope laded her chest; dewy-eyed lamb, it seemed her soul had no diminishment of the fool's mead.
her glance had brushed over elke and ciri, the latter whose gaze briefly comingled with hers. the girl unfurled an abruptly dazzling smile, however, phaedra didn't have the opportunity to return any sort of politesse—her father drew up alongside her and imparted, sotto voce and to her visible despair, the drouth of her well of hope regarding thade's homecoming. her shoulders dropped, ears bowing alongside her head.
"then wh-" her voice, shadowy and small, was cut off. when she turned he had moved away to address the the pack and inform them of this meeting's purpose: they were leaving this mountain. they were leaving home. 
"how will thadey know how to find us?" phaedra worried in the privacy of the darksome chambers of her mind, "he'll think we didn't want him ... he won't know where to go!" phaedra despaired inwardly as she sinuated through the group, not really listening to the adults speaking amongst themselves, troubled as she was. concerned with her long-lost littermate, and the picayune gloom over losing her elysian garden forever ... but mahler's inexorable manner and final decree presented her with no option but passive acceptance. 
so, passive she was, milling in thoughtful circles, not mentally present as she brainstormed some way to relay to thade that they hadn't up and abandoned him, should he ever return to his birthplace. what could she do? leave a path of flowers to their port of call? "the wind will only snatch them," she thought with an irritated huff, scuffing a mark in the dirt with a dash of her paw.
with her tail slack at her hocks, phaedra walked to the periphery of the gathering until the grown up's voices were out of earshot, seating herself with a slouch as she tried hollowly to reconcile herself to leaving everything she knew behind.
even her own brother.

j
Ve are leaving this mountain.

The imp tread farther from his lonesome perch (where the sphinx-bodied Praimfaya had been) — feeling balmy, the season still beating down farther down the mountainside. Gradually descending into the raw sauna of rugged worrywarts; the atmosphere imitating an ice floe. Astraeus began to falter as the realization crashed into him as an impending wave of crashing influx from a dam. They were a bundle of foreign characters. His nerves were upsurging while his eyes found a lavender pair. The resonance of his message is unmistakable, his soothing baritone forcing down the weight.

It wasn't a proposal, not something that could be resolved with a ballot. The spire-weavers were going to be left as wandering-weavers. They were abandoning the mountains. The birthplace of his conscience. The adamantine disposition of faces of authority looked lashed with disdain... or at least Wylla's did. Astraeus let the announcement marinate in his thoughts, electing to find @Phaedra or Thade instead. The ladess was a bit older than him, and while it was obvious they were at odds, olives scouted for the familiar honey-milk redolence and the matching coats of his temporary littermates. Only tripping meekly around larger paws and peering around grown bodies did he spot her, dejected and somewhat far away. 

The news seemed to have blighted her, as expected. She seemed to have a greater emotional tether to this pace, even thought they were both born here. It wasn't as if the puny star-stag was desirous of it. He was tethered to a purpose much greater in his mind — the ever expanding universe and its found and unknown constellations. He possessed a gluttonous adventuring soul, he could go anywhere and anywhere as long as he could see the sky. 

His eyes refused to greet hers leaving him tense. He scratched the crackling grass under his paws to grab her attention, uncharacteristically coy. "uuummm ... where is thhh.. aid. where is thade?" blinking as his air-headed question floated between them like a torn butterfly wing. Never admitted, but Astraeus had a small warmth for Thade back when he had yipped at him to calm down as they had left their den and garden .. sometime after midsummer. First, annoyed, then upon reflection, somewhat impressed at the taste of kindness.