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

 

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."