The Sunspire Just think of your prospects, my darling take heed:

@Calhoun @Corliss @Brewster @Cenric @Odessa
@Toshi @Germanicus
Anybody that is travelling with Célnes!
Welcoming anyone as well, as a large group can be noticed by scent!
(chance for any Deorwine to enter, or a stranger!)

It had been sometime since the siblings, Cenric and Célnes decided to continue the Kingslend lineage. She believed it was birth-right, for the two to take the crown. Normally, it would just be a singular King and Queen, but this was their new group, and not the old lands. Changes, to be made, to suit their own needs.

Which included, wolves who were not of Deorwine origin. The elken woman knew of her brothers distaste for such an event, but she convinced him so. The numbers were definitely needed, and they were no longer alone at these lands- needed to play nice. She also, grew fond of a particular silver wolf who she wished to stay, as his loyalty shaken the core of what was the curse of Deorwine racism. 

She wanted that man to stay, for selfish reasons as well. Proven useful, and same with the little puppy she grew to enjoy as a hunting buddy. It felt.. Wrong, to let him leave, but he was with family. Simply more numbers to form, more to Kingslend, and more of her subjects. A gloat of glee, to imagine a throne of roses.

Célnes howled for them all, for all who joined in their travels. She wanted to officially anounce the resurrection of Kingslend! 

And as well, the plans to follow.

The elder would arrive as promptly as one could, though she was surprisingly quick to be here if only because she had not strayed far, not at all. She would not stray from those which she cared for and wished to guide onto new and better times to come. So she kept to the young woman's side with every hope and intention to meet all those else who had survived the flames which had destroyed they former home. 

Blessed be, High Elk. She spoke with a purr of raspy tones, made more so by the smoke which had plagued her lungs. She comes to the young girl and noses her affectionately (as she does everyone) before moving off to settle down her old bones to the wet earth. 

Her voice sings out, a howl to follow Cel's own, rounding up the family which she had all but temporarily lost. Soon, be it their God's will, they would be a family together again.

 

All wolves are welcome to recognize Rohesia as "the bastard daughter" of Eduart Déorwine, her mother Carling refused to accept the family name, making her recognized as an accursed child. Also, it's known that' she's kooky, the reds in her pelt reflect that!

Therein;
A spark;
it was borne to grow, blemish; burn. Eat, take steal ruin and then die. The blaze that swallows the womb of her god a time agone had catered not destruction, but holy conversion. The High Elk, seeing his children and decides to remold them, trimming and refining the edges of the clay pot until he lowered them into a firing;
etched into their armor is their histories, their legacies, their folklore and triumphs. They are unfinished, raw; but growing, difficult and again. Unearthed opportunity — yes, an overflowing well of it yet to be found.

The accurse'd Rohesia Déorwine could not refuse the High Elk's blessing, n'ver!
Thank you, the wilted fireweed weeps, staggering under His holy graces, her orbs pooling, thank you.

The bride's nuptials hath arrived — !

Joy, o' joy! the girl is fain, even amongst the shrieks and the aroma of charring flesh ( free cremation! ), toppling tines, she laughs and dances with the flickers, they are her salvation, after all. Even after departing at the fatality of her dance partners, she is so white-knuckled ( so flushed! ) and her lips so shorn from ruining them in insane hymns. A chilly smile as she gallops under the influence of His embrace, away from the remnants of the colony of weaver ants.
she had no recollection of her brother's whereabouts, but she wishes him safe passages anywhere the High Elk plans to guide him.

Days later, the after treading aimlessly with only the scents of other mingling Déorwines alike leading her on like lamb to a pasture, does she find the elder woman Odessa and her cousin Célnes. This was meant to happen, she thinks joyously, He leads me here because he wants me to rebuild us, his children.

"Cousin," the fire crackles, her voice a familiar ode to lunacy. "Odessa."

Since he had reunited with Cenric and Célnes, Calhoun stayed near. There was no need to wander with his family nearby, though his search for his God would be neverending until he was satisfied that the High Elk had chosen a new land. For now, it was a mountain peak that Célnes had guided him to. It was strange to traverse as the young hunter had only ever known the woods. He would much prefer a dense forest than this, but if a mountain were to be their new home Calhoun would not complain...as long as it was the High Elk's choosing.

Célnes song guided him this time, a call for many as another voice twined in. It too was familiar, one of home that he had not encountered since the fire. Just how many more had his cousins found through their travels? Cal ensured a hasty arrival with a beat to his tail as he walked, though as he neared he couldn't help but let his face drop at the sight of the bastard's child. It nagged at him that flaw in their family had survived the purge, though if he had to pick Rohesia was the least of his concerns in comparison to others.

Paused in his tracks, the Déorwine let out a sigh as he regained his composure before walking past to take a seat nearby. There was bound to be more than this, he himself had run into a few others on his way here, others he did not mind the company of. For now, he would wait in silence.

Cenric not being too late was a celebration in it of itself. When he arrived to the Déorwine’s temporary claim, there were only a handful of faces; half of which he’s seen, the other half he did not. His sister, his cousin, the old woman, and the whore’s bastard. Cenric contained the urge to sneer at his older cousin. That wouldn’t be polite, now would it?

Greetings. He took his place beside Célnes and smiled. It looks like more of the family has found their way to us.

until dismissed, germanicus would keep close to célnes as her flock gathered. it had become noticeable over the past several days that he was the only greyish among them; they flowed close in all shades of umber and earth and gold, and all bore the same reverent haughtiness that marked his guarded leader.

impassively he allowed his eyes to travel over the assembly, lingering upon the young woman who appeared to cause a passive-aggressive stir in their numbers. at her identity he wondered, but she would not have arrived were she not a déorwine. he was silent, one ear tuned to the elk-wolfess and her wishes.

anyone else is feel free to join anytime!

"May the High Elk be with you all," said the Deorwine, as family started to pour into the meeting. She didn't see everyone yet, but didn't mind and assumed they would come a later time. Though a familiar face, who seemed to catch the groups scent arrived, "Rohesia," her uncles bastard seemed to survive, "perhaps it was destiny, for you to come at this time.

"Friends and family," her fire-lit eyes scanned the crowd, most being of the Deorwine' origin, but she made sure to look at Germanicus, as by now, the rest would surely notice the grayscale man. Someone who is claimed to be unholy, but still, at the moment, she welcomed him into the band, "we are starting to gather as a group; no longer a small band of wolves."

"Have any of you joined any of the local packs?" Célnes looked at her family, "they are different. Their origins, are not praisable of the High Elk, and many, are not with the blessed colorings." To win their hearts, was to win with their God. Her voice opened and proud, like a priest to the chorus. She stated her claim, the hope the others would listen. They had not been to this land long, but surely, an understanding must, be met. If she wanted to be a King, subjects would need to follow. They didn't have enough Deorwine to do so.

"It is time to accept the fact; we are no longer secluded like we once were. Our home, is destroyed. The fire has taken all we loved, and so has it taken our origins. We must now accept the fact, our new beginning will start at this land. Not here, in these mountains, but we will scout, for the High Elks blessing. Only his land, will bring us an abundant of resources." 

"Cenric and I have decided, the renwel of Kingslend will be led. However, I decided," she looked at her brother. The discussion was not met, but she decided to speak about it, "we will be accepting everyone- regardless, of them being Deorwine. We require bodies, and we are only a small group." She could already feel the tension of the disgruntled family, "we are in unknown lands. We must be open-minded, and teach of our ways. Spread, what is ours."

"We will be scouting, and moving, to find where the blessed land is. Upon finding, be aware Deorwine's, not all of us will be of that name. Family, our ways are dead," her eyes narrowed. She had thought about this but never spoke of it. Upon coming to this land, those who claimed to be 'unblessed' were no different then themselves. Elders would teach they are disgusting, cursed, and do not deserve to live. Yet this land, is only those of non-brown-pelted, and they survived peacefully so. "Our history, is dead. We must renew ourselves, to survive, is to accept not everyone is of our kind."

"Kingslend will be our home, but now, it will be a sanctuary for others as well."

"Will you all pledge to the new Kingslend, led by Cenric and I, despite knowing, the changes to come?" She was ready to hear the barrage of opposing opinions; though regardless, while she was going to listen.. It wouldn't make a change to the decision. Their back-water racism held no chance at these wilds, and if they wanted to survive, they would have no choice to follow.

A glint, a smile of perfect, as she stared at the crowd with such a pleased look upon her face.

being very vague abt events. tags for reference.

Whether @Kaori agreed to join Célnes’ group or not, the hatchling skittered towards the call. Toshi wanted to stick his nose in the business because 1: he’s a nosey little shit and 2: he wanted to know where they’d be headed next.

He arrived just in time. Everyone was gathered around his goose-hunting buddy and ready to listen to whatever she had to say. ’Scuse me mister, he poked @Calhoun, Mind if I take a seat? That’s a rhetorical question. Of course he was gonna sit here. A wide smile spread across his face before he gesturing to Célnes and whispering, That’s my friend.

The speech started soon after, most of which goes over his head. Something something Kingslend, unholy blah blah blah. When she was finished he stood up and hollered. WOOOO! YAAAY! Great supportive friend, that’s him!

Calhoun sat in wait for more to show, though, after Cenric, the hunter felt his face visibly drop. A man of greys trailed in and yet dared to sit near what would be the future Kings. Who did he think he was to invade their family gathering? However, before Cal had the chance to address the elephant in the room...Célnes did.

A red glare sat on the stranger as she spoke, most of her words were eye-roll worthy or rhetorical questions. He of course already knew that she had disgraced the High Elk by joining some...weak pack for aid no less when they have healers. Of course, they were not praise worthy, only the High Elk was as it should be.

Right as Célnes began to fall into what she should have been talking about, a tap hit his side drawing his eyes away from their stranger to...to a kid? An unholy heathen cast into the shadow of the High Elk's loving light now blabbering at him and sitting right next to him like he had permission. The disgust and anger showed on his face, his maw opening to protest when he heard it.

"we will be accepting everyone- regardless, of them being Deorwine."

What—? The words were merely gasped under his breath as the fur along the hunter's spine began to bristle with fury. He would allow Célnes to finish just to ensure his ears had not betrayed him with the squabble of a crotch goblin in his ear, though each sentence brought out a new form of rage from within. Cenric was correct Célnes had lost it, what she spoke of was treason to the High Elk.

At last she finished, a request on her lips for those around to join her while the spawn at his side hollered. Calhoun couldn't hold back his laugh any longer as he shoved his burning rage temporarily into his core, Why cousin, our history still breathes. Have you forgotten your teachings? Surely she must have, luckily he would have no problem shoving their lord's teachings down her throat for this humiliating display.

How long have you had these thoughts? No wonder the rain pours, it follows you. It's the High Elk's disapproval, not these lands. We were forced to leave our land, but our home, our life, it's alive as ever as we are drawn towards a better land. There have always been other wolves, they were just born into a tragic life in lands far from the High Elk. They will never be accepted. His ruby gaze fell once more to the man that sat near Célnes. Perhaps it was his fault, he must have tainted her mind with garbage in hopes to swindle his way amongst the family.

And what of that one? His light, perhaps condescending smile quickly fell to be replaced with a look of utter disdain. His words remained directed at Célnes, determined to not address the greyscale man, nor who he assumed to be his son. You preach of renewal and rebirth, yet you walk a path that is determined to destroy the Deorwines further. Is that really the history you wish to carry?

This meeting had played out in his head long before it actually happened. Their family gathered around the future Kings. Célnes gave an encouraging speech about their future, Cenric would chime in at the end, and everyone cheered. Then they’d all be on their way to paradise. Everything played out that way in reality thus far, that is until his sister spoke of accepting the unholy. 

Célnes just did the impossible. She surprised him.

He glanced at her with a slightly raised brow. Since when did she start thinking like this? He casted his glance towards Germanicus, then the boy (he had yet to notice him until now) who seemed thrilled by the idea. He can’t help but blame them.

This was a decision that should’ve been discussed in private first. Now his sister would have to face Calhoun’s wrath, and countless other’s in the future.

Cenric is silent throughout Calhoun’s speech. He speaks nothing but the truth. Having unholy individuals weave their way into the family in the past, whether that be by birth or by initiation, was already bad enough. To willingly bring in outsiders would be an act against the High Elk. That being said, he understood his sister’s reasoning. 

Calhoun, I understand why you are upset, but this is for the greater good. Most of the family have perished in the fire, and many more are missing. There aren’t many of us left now. We need as many able bodies as we can find if Kingslend is to return to its former glory. If that means accepting outsiders, so be it.

Cenric turned to his sister. These outsiders will be tested when spring comes. If they fail- he glanced between Germanicus and the boy, -they will be cast out.

Célnes caught sight of Toshi, but unfortunately, he picked the wrong man to sit by. Thankfully though no anger was directed at him so, and straight at her. Calhoun followed with a laughter, and a judgement upon her. He was always a loyal follower to the High Elk, and the elders sung praise of his loyalty to so.. How they desired all young, to be like so.

A smile upon her beautiful features, but her eyes narrowed as she looked at the angered elk-like man, "If we do not want to be destroyed, we must intertwine. Cousin, you want to perserve so, how are you to when there is no land to claim? No wolves to join to? No children, for the spring." All those were born, and to-be born.. Seemed to have perish. 

"As my dear brother has said, we have no able-bodies. This man, Germanicus has helped me so, and became a guide of sorts. Unholy or not, at the moment he has done more then you have for our renewel." In truth, her didn't do much except guide the two up the mountains, and simply stay by their sides. She saw him as a guide, and would keep him as so. 

Loyal as well, why would she throw that away?

"It is not their fault they were born without His Grace, and as well, they can be proven through the tests." Her fire-lit eyes glanced and agreed with Cenric, if they wanted to be approved.. The test would be taken. Célnes knew it would be the only way to calm their flames, as they dragged the fire from the old home, into their hearts.

"Fret not brother, our kin make a fair argument."

Corliss spoke softly to her brother from behind, placing a reassuring paw upon his shoulder in hopes to quell his anger. She'd been listening in from a distance now, a bit late to the meeting but present nonetheless, yet her steps only came to a halt far away when Célnes began speaking. A proposal to reform Kingslend into the new era — a plan that the femora would no doubt go along with — and search for blessed land to reconstruct their now fallen sanctuary. Except this time, things would go differently then she'd expect it to be...

Her usual fox-like smile made it's way onto her features, yet her breath faltered in a shot of adrenaline waiting to scream. Behind Corliss' calm and collected smile masked a red, seething rage.

The dame knew her cousins were going to come up with a plan that would aid them in moving forward, but this, well, this was just an unimaginable level of treachery towards the high elk. Welcoming outsiders to travel with us for the sake of numbers — even acting freindly towards them, treating them as one of us — Corliss would rather be gutted by a rabid grizzly. And these...these — heathens. These infidelious bastards that were clearly cursed upon exiting the womb! The only reason those two wished to follow members of Kingslend and threaten the relationship her family had towards the high elk was so that they didn't die off in a ditch somewhere without a pack to leech off of. Pathetic.Mewling.Infidels.

But then again, her cousin had made a good point.

If they were to survive in uncharted lands with the wavering numbers of Kingslend that they did have, there wouldn't be any other choice but to win over the trust of anyone that wished to provide help; despite how repulsive this idea sounded in her head. Besides, the only one that truly had any say in who recived the same rights as them was the creator himself. And if they did fail the initiation, then Corliss would be more than happy to see them out herself. "This idea of allowing foreigners into our ranks is difficult to take in at first, I know, but we will not survive in these foreign lands for too long with the absence of outside interference. Allow them to stay and, if they prove themselves worthy during spring initiation, we will have nothing to worry about." If they are even able to that is, because Corliss doubts these newcomers should even be trusted...

germanicus julius caesar learned two things that day.

one, that he was unholy.
two, that among the déorwine clan, it was he who was the heathen.

to step out of line once in formation was to invite a beating from your superior officer. germancius had not been exempt from a stumble or, when he was younger, joking about behind the back of the instructing captain. therefore he had earned marks still existent beneath his greatly disdained stormcloak. 

it was the training such pain enforced that kept the man calm now. for within his heart he was incensed, thrumming with a healthy worry that his service to the woman might end in death. but he would not have pledged himself to célnes if there was not some modicum of trust. even now she raised his name above their voices. he was a flawed vessel, but something to bear water all the same.

the soldier remained with limbs rigid and eyes fixed on some distant point, willing that he become a fixture of the land rather than their focus.

Her family came flooding in, those of her pack which she met with a hard expression (@Rohesia), those which she was happy to see and those which, obviously, did not belong. A narrowed yellow gaze fixed on @Germanicus, wondering why the dark grayscale male was here. Perhaps a servant of Celnes? All fair and well, sure, but a servant did not belong in a pack meeting discussing affairs. Odessa, the old woman who was quite fixed on tradition, would have spoken out at that very moment had it not been for the fact that these were not their claimed lands and they held no warrent. 

Though as the young woman began, Odessa's pride for the woman went from high to an all-time low in a blink of an eye. Accepting the fact that they were no longer secluded, that their origins in their forest had been destroyed, that things would be harder for them, that they may have to play nice... Well, sure, that was one thing...but to say that our ways were dead, that their history, was dead? If that were the case, then she should be struck dead herself this very instant! And she smiles to sweetly, as though mocking of her elders, mocking of their God. How could this young girl suddenly become so cruel? Had she been cursed? Were these lands cursed, to doom them all?

She knew, an aging woman as she was, did not have the strength to carry out her days on her own. She was a medic, a wet nurse, a teacher and guardian to the children. She wasnt any warrior now, nor a hunter. She wouldnt survive on her own. But were her family, these very wolves that she had helped to nurse, to raised, going to turn her back on her and her 'old ways' in order to oblige these heathens?!

Celnes finishes and Calhoun tears in after, laughing at the mockery of what this was-and it was! She takes a heavy breath as then it hitches, her eyes shining for the young man. Alas, they had not all lost their very minds!  

She lifts up from her placement then in the group, head held high with a pride that she always held, for her family, for their traditions. She looks to Celnes squarely, filled with disappointment, anger and divine righteousness. Our history is not dead. The past is the past and we cannot and will not erase it. To speak as so it to erase your own family's name, your own founding in this world- your own God. At least, she had no means what so ever to forget her past, her origin. What she had endured in her years had built her, made her into the strong and hardened woman she was now. We can move forward, but we should never forget our customs, who we are as Deorwine. Are you all so fearful of the future, that you would make a mockery of your past? She comes forward, trying to find place at the open side of @Calhoun but is disrupted by the child's presence, that to which the old woman snarls towards in hopes that he might scurry off and away back where he belonged. 

You claim that it 'isnt their fault' they are born unholy- that it isnt fair, but life rarely is. And Celnes, all of them, should very well know Odessa had endured much heartache in her life, yet still holy, respectfully and obediently held onto her believes. If its bodies you need for our protection, then treat them as such: a servants, as peasants. No ranks, no power, no say-so. Not Deorwine. They will never be equal to me or mine, not unless the High Elk deem it so. In the long run that would never be her choice, or Calhoun's, or Celnes' for that matter. Only the High Elk may pass that judgement but until that very day arrived, they were nothing more then pests in the eyes of Odessa. Like one might call a coyote, fox or rat.

bleh post :/

Heathens, heathens, heathens;
it's events like these where Rohesia rather be looked down upon than and absolute curse. Does her cousin truly wish too let these — these — daemons join them? As equals, no less? It may puzzle; or even surprise the spectator Déorwine that the bastard girl was not overturning the mountains with a defeaning shriek of horrow, now. 
her cousin had done the same to her, surprsied her beyond belief. 

"If you....," she beings, steeling herself as she trips over tongue and her own legs, "If you think we can simply accept them as family, passing our rites or not, your truly something else, Célnes Déorwine. Does the High Elk...at least..show you signs that he would allow this? Maybe then, we can understand."

The hunter could feel his pulse throb along the side of his skull, his eye twitching once involuntarily as one voice after another spoke up, some in defiance and some backing his own words. Most shockingly though his sister sided with them. Cenric's words were a disappointment, but he was Célnes' brother. The look he gave spoke enough to know his true feelings, this had been a move made on Célnes' decision and her decision alone.

He had suppressed the rising anger from his fellow family's betrayal long enough. By the time they had finished speaking, he had long since tuned out, the simple smile he once held long gone as his red gaze burned into none other than the King who had sparked a new fire. You claim to do this in the name of the family, but your lack of faith is DESTROYING those you should care about. Yes, the ones that actually mattered, not these outsiders. High Elk forbid she allowed this because she had fallen for the pathetic man. THE HIGH ELK GUIDES US. Not this...Mongrel. He waved a paw at the greyscale man as he searched for a fitting word though his eyes never left Célnes.

We made it out of our home and we all have found each other, that was no chance. There are still many of us, we are protected by his holy grace. We were spared. For whatever reasons and plans the High Elk has for us. Who's to say there weren't more as well? His Uncle wasn't at this gathering and he had run into him shortly after arriving to the flatlands. There are more of us out there, they too will find their way. We do not need the help of outsiders. You say we are weak through your actions, but we are strong. We still live. We still breathe. Even through flame scorched pelts and missing limbs, we are STRONG.

He hadn't even addressed the grub at his side. He was young and wild, ill-mannered and outspoken. Their traditions would not be carried through him, he couldn't even grasp the importance of this meeting. This is not our future. This boy, that man, are not our future! If you are so concerned with children I will provide enough in the upcoming season to carry on our name. You spit excuses. There are many ways to deal with our circumstances yet I think you might actually want this. What other reason would there be for these two to join them.

Calhoun was disappointed, to say the least. He still firmly believed the High Elk would never approve of this. It would be rewriting everything they knew. In the end, Cal didn't have the power to kick them out, try as he may, but no matter how much they do they would never be Deorwines. A rock followed their beliefs closer than these two would, and apparently, half his family.

"If we don't want to erase history we have to survive." She repeated her earlier phrase, looking coldly upon all these wolves. She couldn't help think some were fools, because who would deny more help in their dying need? More bodies to protect, more wolves for their league, and would it not help if they were accepted with the High Elk?

"If the High Elk had said otherwise, would he not show us now?" Célnes  looked around to them to them all, before her head turned straight up to the sky, "have we not had this war before? Where our red bretheren were slaved away, and the High Elk accepted them so? Who can say he won't accept them, if no one has tried? Our history has always thrown them away!" Her head snapped back to the ground as she narrowed her fire-lit eyes to them all.

"We are fools not to mingle, we are fools not try, we are fools. They will not be under you," she snapped her fangs toward Calhoun, "they will be under me," and an eye toward her brother, "as the new Kings."

"We will preserve what we can, and pass our god to the outsiders. Who can say the High Elk will not accept them, you, and you?" Her gaze frosted toward Calhoun, then Rohesia, then a little toward Odessa before turning back toward her cousins. "Our land has been burned! Is that not a sign of change?"

"Let is be known now; I, Célnes Déorwine of the royal bloodline, ask @Toshi, the young pup, and @Germanicus to pledge to us, the new Kings." She did the unspeakable, despite the barrage of displeasure, she ignored them all. The elken woman saw no need to listen to their old-fashioned opinions, it reminded her too much of Grayson, and it lit a small fire of bloodthirst in her heart. But she would never act upon it. There was a love for family, after all.

"We will bring Kingslend to a new era, a new place, and the High Elk will be pleased for his word to be spread."

Nobody stood up to join his applause. Yikes. Awkward. Toshi slowly deflated as  he glanced at all the disapproving faces. One lady even snarled at him. He laughed nervously before skittering to the back.

Names were hurled left and right. Servants, peasants, mongrels?! Jeez, he didn’t know 99% of these guys and they already hated his guts. Toshi was starting to rethink the old ‘bring the family over’ plan. How long would they have to listen to this harsh judgement? Could they handle that? There’s not much of a choice really. Toshi would just have to show these guys how cool he was. Besides, if Célnes was ok with him, then everything would be fine, right?

There was a love for family, after all? A family which she flashed her fangs upon and narrowed cold anger towards. A family which she crushed down, disregarding their opinions, many of which objected. Her family which she had lived all her tiny little life with and she ignored them. All of them. She had changed. By the Gods, she had changed! It was as though she had wanted the fires to happen. Had laid in wait for the opportunity to crush the upbringing they once had so she could mold and form the pack into her own creation, her own views. 

Odessa, too, like her words her heart was crushed. Her jaw was tightened, body stiff. She wanted to leave. She did not want Celnes to be her King. The nonbeliever, the traitor. But she had no home to go back to now and the only family she had left were those which now stood with her here (yet hopefully more to find their way). She could only hope Celnes rule would not last long. That another, more fitting to their nature, might challenge her place. But the crone was old, and knew not if she would live to see the day. Her way of life was shattered. Happiness, gone. She didnt want to live to see the day this would happen, but unfortunately had. 

High Elk... forgive us for our sins... She whispers, eyes to the skies. She couldn't even look at her newly pronounced King then to even speak to her. Her words would not be heeded anyhow, it seemed. Her years of training the children amongst her all but forgotten. She had failed. She prayed then, silently to herself (though @Calhoun may hear cause she right next to him) for the High Elk to be merciful and take her to the heavens with him soon.

célnes, her firm voice cutting through the raised tones and hateful sibilance of her family's rebellion. his name, finally. the soldier shifted impassively toward his contract-holder. an oath she wanted, and he felt that in her eyes he would fall if he did not choose the right words.

but germanicus refused to pledge himself to a god of meat and haughty wolves who kept their loamy hues through what he accused to be by wicked, twisted family lines. and so he set his eyes only upon célnes, lifted his chin. "i pledge to you. you are queen of this clan, and i am your guardian." that was the nature of their roles; he expected nothing more, nor would he give beyond what he said in this moment.

He was disregarded, their GOD, disregarded. Calhoun had heard enough. It was then that silence fell as all eyes fell to the grey mongrels before the guard broke the quiet. He pledged to Célnes not their God, not their kind. His words spoke betrayal from the start, he had no intention of learning their ways. Fed up, the hunter turned on his heels to leave. He could not tolerate this disrespect towards the High Elk any longer.

all rohesia could do was leave her mouth agape and hand her head as she feared what He may do them. it was then she blinked and raised her head digustedly at germanicus and their so called queen, as if he was loyal, as if as if. 

i'm going to kill him.

the flament drags herself away from the meeting sullen and brooding, murmuring whatever chant had soothed her unparalled rage all those years she'd spent in her old claim.

Célnes was satisfied with what was said from the guard. However, she also knew that the others would not be, as he pledged to her, not their God. It was something she would prefer, but being a Déorwine, their God was above the pack loyalties. It was a reason she most likely wanted more members as well, those who are loyal to herself and Cenric, and not to the High Elk.

Blasphemery to think, even though she too put trust in him, but she wanted a way of life, that resulted into her own becoming.

"If anyone has anything to say, you may speak to me after. This meeting finished; may he bless you all."