Wheeling Gull Isle musou il mare

Backdated to November 26, 2018. Coelacanth is temporarily stepping down. This thread is MANDATORY. You only need to post once. @Driftwood @Reed @Rokig @Blossom

Despite Stockholm’s love for her and the sweet reassurance of her children — all six of them: Fern, Mur, Grayling, Thresher, Sixgill, and Koi — the betrayal Coelacanth had suffered at Aditya’s jaws was devastating. To have it followed by Faeryn’s departure and the odd, unprecedented disappearance of Komodo’s seahawk was crippling. She felt more inadequate by the day, unable to tend her seawolves with the competence required to keep them. She was only marginally present — and it was this undulating miasma of brain fog that had cost her the greatest treasure of all.

Where was @Stockholm’s feather-furred miniature? The inky sheepdog had combed every inch of the island, and her firstborn daughter was nowhere to be found. This monumental loss was a painful reminder of the many other losses Undersea had experienced over time, and Seelie found she could not bear it. She had lost weight she could ill afford, and her children and mate were far from impervious to her mood.

Today she had come to a decision about at least one thing: she would forsake her place at the pack’s helm until she could find within herself some long-forgotten reserve of strength. “Stockholm,” she breathed, blotting away a new wave of tears in the thick fur of his ruff. “Call @Komodo. Call @Moorhen. Sing pack here.”

Once the Gampr’s voice had rolled down Skybowl’s sloping skirts and through the island’s trees, Hemlock and the Five were quick to make an approach. @Thresher’s absence was a thorn in the sheepdog’s paw, but she bore herself up and stood as tall as she could. The elevation helped, but her tiny stature was far from impressive despite the stony seriousness in her face. When she judged the time was right, “My Treasure lost,” she whispered, the pain in her voice turning her hollow utterance into a litany of pain. “Komodo, your Vedmak. Moorhen, your Agarwaen. I am Aralez no more — I am Athelas, until all wound heal.” Her voice took on an eerie note, one ear cocked toward the sea as if the waves spoke to her with some otherworldly tongue. “Storm come. Soon reborn. My baby — find. Bring home.”

A stomp of one catlike paw emphasized her final command, and then, a broken wraith of her former light, she shed her mantle before the seawolves she so loved.

Moorhen attended to the summons without much thought. There was worry crawling in the pit of her stomach, but she had no words to attach to it - the shewolf was just wary of any sort of excitement, these days. And it was lucky, she realized, that she was there to respond at all; her last several days had been spent off the island.

The dark shewolf tipped back her head to answer - a harried be right there! before she set off toward the source of the sound. When she reached Stockholm, it was to see him standing there with Seelie. The others gathered soon as well, and a new title was bestowed rather unceremoniously upon the placid girl. Moorhen blinked at the newly-appointed Athelas, feeling a bit peeved by the sudden upheaval of roles. Not at Coelacanth, of course, but at the mad wolf that had caused all this.

But she had her marching orders, and a shiny new badge to flash around. Moorhen stepped forward to kiss her sister-mother's cheek before turning and heading back toward the mainland.

She had some treasure to track down.

making some lil assumptions, can edit if need be<3

faeryn and the other woman's departures held little effect over reed's mood -- though they had been beloved by coelacanth, reed herself had never spared the chance to get to know them properly, and thus, felt little for their loss either way. perhaps she has resigned herself to hermitage at too young an age.

thresher's absence, on the other hand, has sent her into something of a tizzy, although she has even been remiss in her attentions to seelie's children as of late. (maegi and mou's departure wore more on her than she cares to admit or own.) stockholm's call summons her quickly, worry creasing her brow -- a worry that only increases as seelie begins to speak. not at the rank shuffle, for as far as reed is concerned, coelacanth remains her leader -- she is undersea itself -- but at the word of approaching storm. and true, the air has a strange taste, foreboding. 

her athelas' word is final, and summons renewed vigor into her tawny limbs. she turns to her mother, exchanging identical looks of concern, and steps forward to coelacanth as moorhen had done. yet she makes no promises outloud, all too aware that it would be brash to assume they will find thresher. instesad she briefly tucks her head against the tiny wolfdog, more contact than she allows herself to give anyone else, and peels away, following loosely agarwaen's path toward the mainland.

The past few weeks for Komodo had been rough ones. The man had always been reluctant to become attached to ideas, concepts that bound him to one place and one person — specifically the idea of love — but he had relented in the face of his silent raven; so tortured, so in need to his help. He had given up on one of his most fundamental of values, that had held fast for the many years that composed his life thus far. He had planned for the future, allowed his heart to open [as small and as creaky as that door could open], and this was how he was repaid? With the silent girl's disappearance, without a word?

But he knew his Raven. They had traveled for shy of half a year together; had loved and lost together, and knew this disappearance didn’t come as a total surprise. It was one of the risk factors one had to take into account when loving a wild woman — but would she return, eventually? — and if she did not, did it mean that her absence was unwilling, or that her love for him was no more? A small part of Komodo [nay, a major one!] wanted to leave the island again to search her out, as he had done with some many other awol seawolves before her… if, for anything, just to learn some answers. It was in his blood to range far and seek out the lost and broken, however, Coelacanth’s request of him changed all that. 

He was named Vedmak once more, which had been something he desired for a while. Hadn’t he craved staying put, with his raven, and being named to the council once more? Now, the news came a little bitter-sweet, but he was getting too old to be upset about, or question, the circumstances. He’d take what he’d get, for the wolves that he served. He also did not love how Coelacanth looked — broken, defeated — and wished to assuage her pain in some way. He trusted her perspective, and if this is what she needed from him, then this is what he would do. This was his duty, now. He didn’t get to get mad about these things.

He also did not get to comfort Seelie as he truly wished to. That was Stockholm’s job, it had been made totally clear. However, Komodo’s mate was not there to celebrate his promotion with him either — or mourn the circumstances surrounding it — and the angaqquk truly did not know how to feel. Instead, he dealt with the present reality of the situation, glancing around at all the wolves he now served in a larger capacity and nodded, accepting the extra weight upon his shoulders.

Coelacanth was not the only one keenly feeling her own inadequacy. Driftwood still felt guilty that he hadn't been there, hadn't been there to divined Aditya's intent (somehow) and stopped him before the whole fiasco had begun (...somehow). He'd been restlessly haunting the island's fringes, worrying himself sick and losing sleep as he strove to make certain that such a mistake wouldn't happen again. He gave his head a harsh shake and cocked his ears when the call came, blinking the confusion from his eyes and trying to make certain it was not some sleep-deprived hallucination echoing in his ears. It didn't take him too long to consider that, despite his uncertainty, he'd do better to go ahead and run in that direction regardless: if he was hearing things, well, no harm done...hopefully...right? But if it was real... if perhaps something dire might have caused Stockholm to raise his voice to the skies this day... Driftwood's feet were already in motion as that possibility haunted him mind, for all that the summons had been cryptic and mentioned no such danger.

He slowed as he drew nearer to the small rowd that had gathered, and looked around at all of them—all limbs seemed intact, and all coats unmarred. So not any sort of attack; this was not history repeating itself, thankfully. Driftwood's feet stuttered to a halt, and he bobbed his head low and respectfully in first Seelie and then Stockholm's direction before taking in the female of the pair's words. Deep concern flashed across his face as Thresher's disappearance was publicized, followed by sorrow as Seelie announced that she was stepping down "until all wounds healed," and then a touch of confusion intermingled at the mention of a storm coming and leading to...rebirth of some sort, what? Driftwood was puzzled by what exactly that was supposed to imply, but more imortantly in the meantime couldn't help but take the announced timeline a little more poetically, and wondered as he glanced around at his fellow packmates, fewer and more ragged in number than they once were, if the less-visible wounds to the pack as a whole would ever truly heal. It took him a minute or two to place all the faces, even so—honestly, he was glad that Seelie named at least a few of them for him, because it felt like it had been months or even years since he had seen some of his fellow pack members, never mind actually spoken to them. When had Undersea become so estranged from one another? he mourned—or perhaps it was he himself who had been a stranger?

Moorhen didn't even wait for another word to be said before she briskly swept over to greet Seelie and then strode off in the direction of the landbridge, with Reed quick to follow her. Driftwood moved with much less self-assurance, making sure to offer Komodo a respectful but somewhat more hesitant and reserved deep nod of respect before his own feet went anywhere. He wanted to rush over to comfort and help Seelie as well, but suspecting that she already had as many physical supporters right here and now as she could possibly need, particularly with and her mate so obviously hovering right there and the now-technically-outranking-her Komodo nearby at hand. ...Everyone she could possibly need except for her little treasure Thresher, that was, of course! Driftwood's feet stepped forward a pace and a half, but there he stopped with one sandfurred forepaw left dangling anxiously midair. We'll find her, Seelie! he blurted, his ears flickering up and down and belying the certainty and faith he tried to put into his voice. Never fear, we'll find her and bring her home. And... and let us know if there's anything else we can do. Please. Okay, so manybe certainty and faith might be somewhat feeble and lacking, but sincerity rang loud and clear in his voice, at least.

Sixgill Volkodav-Corten was angry. And anger is a fairly new emotion to the five month old boy. He first felt the hot fire of it burning under his skin when his mother was brought back to the Labyrinth, injured and bloodied. It was soothed and tempered, to a degree, by the continuous reassurances of both his parents that everything was alright, that it was a mistake, that there should be forgiveness. But the fire was never truly extinguished, deep down the embers smoldered quietly until a swift wind of upheaval stirred them to the surface – Thresher’s disappearance.

And so Six had another first, his first true argument with his parents.

In the end, the boy had been expressly forbidden from leaving the island in search of his sister. Thus – the proverbial moody teenager – he sat quietly to the edge of the gathering, ears flattened to the side like airplane wings, shoulders hunched up, lips drawn in a tight line as he listens to his mother speak.

It all kind of goes in one ear and out the other, as things tend to do with pups his age. His parents have always been the leaders here, why does that have to change all of a sudden because some jerk came in and hurt Coelacanth? It doesn’t make any sort of sense to him, it only feeds his frustration at the world, at his inability to go find his sister, at all the things that are suddenly wrong – the perfect bubble of safety and happiness of puppyhood having been burst.

One of his airplane-ears twitches upright when his mother mentions a storm, and he glances in the direction of the sea, as if expecting to see some sort of obvious sign there that indicates such a thing. But he can discern nothing particularly out of the ordinary, and his ears flatten back down into sulking mode as he resumes watching the gathered seawolves as they either depart to search for Thresher (why do they get to go and not him?!) or offer moral support to Seelie and Stockholm.

aaahhhh sorry im late

so maybe it took him a minute to realize the call for undersea includes him, too. he's just not familiar with this pack thing yet. still, he chides his idiocy the whole way to where the leader is, feeling stupid for not realizing immediately. there's something worrying about the call itself, and as he settles on the outskirts of the group a little way into the announcement, he realizes it's more dire than he'd thought. a missing child — the idea sends a shiver down his spine. he doesn't know what to say now, but he knows he won't rest well until the child is returned safely; he'll have to depart the island himself, storm or no, and search for treasure, even not knowing what the kid looks like or... anything. all he can imagine is daisy fields, and he could never willingly leave anyone to that fate.

My last post here. I will close this up in a week! ♥

Coelacanth turned her head to look searchingly at her Overseer, a pained expression in her cerulean eyes. It was cruel of her to leave the weight of the pack on his shoulders, but she believed that Komodo and Moorhen would provide enough added strength to help shoulder the extra responsibility. She simply couldn’t commit to leadership right now; her sole focus was Thresher and the coming storm.

@Rokig’s absence did not alarm the newly appointed Athelas. He was a vigilant wolf, and this quality had taken on a new intensity ever since Aditya’s last visit. The stocky seawolf visited the mainland fairly often and was already on the lookout.

What did displease her was Droman’s mysterious absence. Hemlock’s boy was a quiet, studious creature, but lately he’d become a veritable recluse. The sheepdog couldn’t figure out how to reach out to him, or if it was even her place to do so — and so, though it could be classed as cowardly, she shoved her worries about him to the backburner. Any interventions or confrontations would have to wait.

As the meeting drew to a close, Coelacanth turned — and found herself face-to-face with her gold cloud son and his stormy brother, who wore matching expressions of disgruntlement. Seated just behind them in a pocket of shadow was Koi, wearing a decidedly dejected expression. A flicker of indecision danced within the Athelas’ Neptune eyes. Could she have been forbidden to search for Amoxtli if her twin had gone missing? No. No. Yet here she was, trying to clip her seabirds’ wings and keep them chained here. Again, Seelie turned and sought her husband’s council, her gaze passing from seawolf to seawolf until her soft, sorrowful gaze landed once more upon her fierce young sons. “Guppies help, too,” she relented after a beat, though it broke her heart to loosen her grip on them. “Lessons first,” she emphasized with a stomp of her paw. They’d have to be given some ground rules before they went waltzing across the sandbar. “Good boys. Good girls.” She nuzzled each of her children, Fern and Mur included, and melted into the shadowscape to scrape together some lesson plans.

Koi looked round at the kaleidoscopic assemblage of familiar, beloved faces with an air of melancholy — and, quite by accident, made direct eye contact with @Rehan. Though she looked away immediately, overcome with shyness, she nursed a burgeoning fondness for the finely-drawn, sad-eyed wolf. He never really talked much, and he certainly never smiled, but she believed that he had a kind heart buried deep beneath all that grief. There was a gentleness about his mournfulness that she sorely craved; her brothers had gotten angry, and she’d tried to feel as bloodred and gold-glittering as they did, but all she could seem to feel was grayish — tiny and frightened and bruised. Feebly, she wriggled her silver-plumed tail at him, and then she followed her brothers and remaining sister.

Koi fell into step with Six and Grayling and waited for excitement to splash across her canvas now that ŭmma and appa had promised to let them join the search — but even this proclamation couldn’t shake her grays. There was a heavy air of solemnity over the day in general, and as soon as the “Basic Navigation and Stranger Danger Etiquette” lesson was finished, she disappeared within the Rainsong Labyrinth’s deepest recesses, curled up in the mossy bowl where she’d taken her first breath, and hid there until morning.