King Elk Forest He said I look familiar

Perhaps @Calhoun

She was putting on weight rapidly now she was in a pack and being well fed.
Her hips no longer protruded and her rips weren't so prominent now.
Still a little skinny, but that would just take time.
For now, her thick winter coat now pushing through hid most of her sorry body and made her look mostly normal now.
Good.

She was resting for now within the Little garden.
The wilting petals of the bright wisteria trees lay around her.
She'd just awoken from a nap, feeling safe and at peace within the long arms of the trees about her.
Sacnite gazed about, watching for anything new.

As the days passed, so did the tension that had hung itself so low amongst the elk ridden forest. Admittedly, Calhoun was still not pleased by the grey wolves that had been allowed refuge amongst his kin, but avoiding the few had been easy and the High Elk had not smitten them yet for their King's mistake. The High Elk was kind, he provided, and Calhoun knew he would not take from his followers should they have his praise (which of course the hunter did).

He ensured his pack's survival, from the food he provided to the discovery of their new home. The Baron had always been aggressive about their beliefs, but it was in good nature to protect his family and those that belonged to the High Elk. Today the herd would be spared of his watchful gaze as he traversed the land hoping to lay more of the land to his memory. Originally he had intended to spend the time alone, though those plans were quickly dashed away as red eyes fell on a figure lounging nearby.

Her face was unfamiliar, one he had seen in passing, but nothing more. She was not Déorwine, though unlike the other stragglers Celnes had wrangled together, she was far kinder to the eye. Elken tans coated her body, though there were marks of the scorned. For once though, he was willing to forgive the mishap. She was not born to their family, yet the High Elk had blessed her. Surely it was a sign, her family had not descended from their worship, but she was here now. There was a chance for redemption.

Calhoun approached slowly, a chuff offered hoping to catch the small woman's eye. She had a chance at staying when the day of trials came, there was a reason for him to at least adhere her name to memory. Until that day though, he would make his own judgment now.

She gazed up towards the filtered sunlight. Softness adorning her sprawled form.

Peace.
Yet soon enough, the stillness was broken by another refuge seeker, who greeted her softly. Her head turned to him with a smile. She only knew his as the Baron. The imposing form that seemed to be the iron fist in the ranks. Her smile faltered at the realisation. Whilst he looked placid and gentle, he'd had an undesirable look about him when she saw him att the meetings she'd attended to. The look he gave those who were not Déorwine. 

She sat up, fixing her face into something that didn't betray her internal anxiety. 
"O-oh hi," she wasn't expecting company, nor did she mean to stutter. Hopefully she could just come across as more nervous than scared, as such. 

For a brief moment, Calhoun was met with a smile. It was nice, different from the fake happiness and wide glances he often received, not that they were undeserved. The hunter was harsh in his ways, strict to follow the rules, and those he yelled at often saw his preaching as disdain instead of the true reasons behind his lecture. It was never to berate another, though it usually came off like that, he simply wanted to help. To guide his family to better faith and further their love between them and the High Elk.

Though as quickly as it came, the genuineness of her smile faded and the change did not go unnoticed. Perhaps his cousins had already plagued his image to those who were new, or maybe she had been here since the gray guard seeped into their ranks. If that were the case then she was already aware of his vocal tendencies. The other was quick to come to attention, a stutter slipping its way into her words as she regarded him.

Did I startle you? It seemed odd, for she had openly smiled before coming to some realization, though it was possible she was just simply enjoying her day before realizing another was in her presence. He did not dare step closer. If there was any fear there it was unwarranted, for now at least. He had yet to determine if she too would plague their ranks, though truthfully in the end, that would be the High Elk's decision, not his. I was only passing by, I can continue if you'd like, though I believe we have not met before.

He assessed her.
Careful, but not cold. No, not cold at all. Like the hot jaws of death -- no more like the sun.
Her head tilted, watching him back in turn.

"No, I just wasn't expecting company of those..uh blessed...?"
She hoped that was the right word. And didn't seem like she was scared of him or anything. Her head tilted, curious now. He seemed caring, yet everywhere else he seemed cold and heartless.
There was something there.

"Stay, I'd like the company," she smiled, tail thumping softly in the purple flowers around her.

Calhoun wasn't completely sure what he was expecting to hear for a response, but being called blessed rose a genuine laugh from the man. Perhaps she had a head on her shoulders after all, though it was clear she was not sure what entirely what made an individual blessed. In a not so humble brag, he would take the compliment. After all he had done more than most in his family to prove his worth, including undergoing the naming ritual despite already holding the name Deorwine. A name did not make one blessed though.

Images of those that unfortunately carried the family name flashed in his mind, mostly the witch. She was not one of them no matter how much she fought on the matter. Whatever happened to her? Calhoun hadn't caught wind of her survival, perhaps she burned with the rest. A fitting end for one that had so horrible tarnished the pack. The High Elk favors you too, though I am not surprised that you are unaware. A half-smirk sat on his maw as she invited him to stay. She seemed open-minded enough, perhaps she would actually pass the naming ceremony.

The hunter moved with ease as he approached, though he would still keep a respectful distance between them as he settled down amongst the flowers. How much do you know of our culture? If you are to stay, you will need to learn all you can. It was lucky that he took such an interest in the High Elk. There were others that surely would leave out important details or find passing the knowledge a bore. It was an honor to introduce someone to the High Elk, especially if they were to respect him as he did.

Her head tilted slightly.
She was...favoured? She thought for a few moments. No, that couldn't be right. She had to be a Déorwine and brown to be so. She was brown, but she was cursed, and she certainly wasn't a Déorwine.
She liked that he settled closer though.

Sacnite shuffled a little closer, hoping he wouldn't shy away or anything.
She was just...used to being close to others and hadn't had that in a long time.
Too long.

"I know that the Elk are protected? And that they decide whether we are worthy of the uh...Déorwine​ name. And that they don't like those with pale or dark coats in particular."
She paused for thought. What else had she gathered about Kingslend since her time here?
"I can learn though," she chirped, looking to him with bright eyes.
Yeah, she'd love to learn! She didn't have much else to do, and what better than learning how to be close with those she lived with.
She smiled softly to him, hoping to be enlightened.

literally rambling for word count you don't need to match this LOL

Surprisingly she seemed to at least have some of the basics down, even if the reasoning was jumbled together. Celnes must have given her a rundown when she was accepted due to how limited her knowledge was. Cenric surely would have told her more, though there was the detail of those cursed and forsaken...Celnes in all that she could was attempting to erase that part of their history...someone else must have filled her in for the white on her pelt.

Had Sacnite been born to the Déorwine, he would have felt differently about her, especially as she scooted to lay closer. Calhoun eyed her carefully, though would not show any signs of repulsion to the act. Honestly, he didn't really care. White was a filthy color, one that showed the impurities in one's family for their misdeeds and lack of faith, yet here she laid with open arms willing to embrace their culture. The Déorwine name did not belong to one family, it was many, all children under the High Elk. Many of his cousins had come from outside families that proved themselves with time, and in the same way, so may she. Yes the ritual. You will have to partake in it soon, but there is time to prepare you.

The name Déorwine does not mark only those of blood. We are a family, though many are adopted into our beliefs. Browns are the purest and most pleasing to the High Elk for those shades match his people. The lighter the color the more our trust shifts. A white pelt represents those whose ancestors betrayed us. It is a warning for the future and a permanent shame to hold until things may be righted in the next generation. Yes, it wasn't a death sentence for one's family lineage to hold a disgraced color, but those who held the punishment had to work three times as hard to prove themselves and show they belong within this family. Through wholehearted dedication, the High Elk may accept the wolf burden and show his grace again. It was rare, but if a white wolf produced a brown child, they would be released of their scorn.

Perhaps the bigger challenge was finding a mate after being stripped of your color. Who would want to wed or bed someone who already had the gaze of the pack latched to their fur? To do so and risk the lack of color in one's offspring would only name you the same fate. In the same manner, if an elk with a white pelt is to appear, we kill them on sight, even if they are an apostle. As for black, that is far more scarce. The tale stems from the supposed sighting of a black elk. It was unsettling, and did nothing but stare. If a Déorwine holds a black pelt we are simply wary, careful, it is unnatural to us, but they do not have the disrespect that one with white does. Ominous was a better word. He had a cousin once, dark in fur. @Glædwinee he was never inherently bad, but he was silent and lingered at the edges of their home.

I'm sure you have questions about your own pelt. The white may be unflattering to some, though as one of the stronger believers here I believe you will be alright. Compared to those with our name, your family could not have outwardly offended the High Elk. If I had to take a guess, it was simply for not believing, but you found your way here. A sign surely? You welcome the culture and knowledge and for the majority, you hold his colors. A smile graced his lips as red eyes traveled to meet her turquoise. If she gained the Déorwine name there would be no protest from his side. There were plenty of Déorwine with a hint of white in their pelt as well, ugly as it may be, they were not forsaken the way the witch was. Should you appease the High Elk, I'm certain you could right what was taken with your offspring. A strong believer is always rewarded.

Sorry for the long delay am awful

Ritual?
She'd not heard of this ritual before. Perhaps it would be fun, like a festival.
She fantasised about it until he continued.

But what he said...made sense. Her family had done wrong.
They didn't respect her or what she wanted, they didn't look for her when she left with a stranger. Because she was a runt, they hoped she'd die. And they would have done so for all those before her.
The thought made her skin crawl. Her blood boil.
But Sacnite had only let herself be angry once. At Cry.
She wondered if her children wouldn't hold the whites she did. She hoped so if she was going to stay here. If she really believed this.

She wondered why brown was the colour. She thought that those of unusual colour were more respected, but here it seemed different. She kind of liked it. The deviation from what seemed common.
Darkness was scary. You never knew what it held, and it was probably best to not go poking it. But in light, you can see all, and you know what you can see. To Sacnite, this made sense.

She matched his smile. It brought warmth into her, that she could be accepted; that she already was. But to be a stronger believer...did that mean Celnes with her strange looks wasn't? Did she not fully believe? Sacnite had doubts, but she'd figure it out soon enough.
"When will the ritual be?"​
She wanted to be a Déorwine, she wanted to fit in.
She wanted to be loved.

Calhoun waited as the information sunk in, surely there would be questions. After all he had practically dumped the contents of a ship on her, though as the silence stretched on he wonders just how much she hadn't grasped or perhaps she had grasped it all? Eventually, a single question leaves her mouth, one that leaves him with a genuine smile.

When will the ritual be?

It was nice to see someone so eager to uphold their traditions, especially since Celnes had been so insistent on destroying all that was along with the fire that plagued their home. Spring. A time to find those true to our name before commitments are made and children are born. Before those cursed or hid like snakes could tarnish what generations had worked so hard to upkeep. Of course, a few wolves came to mind, mostly his King's guard. Germanicus. Even his name sounded like a plague.

I can help you. I'll make sure you know all of our ways before then, though you should be careful. Not all who roam here have the High Elk's blessing. The wolves with tarnished pelts, specifically white and grey. Avoid them, they are not friends. Either they or their kin has brought this punishment to themselves. Associating with them may bring you to commit acts against His grace as well. Not everyone in Kingslend was pure, sure there were some with white amongst their colors, but a dash was less concerning than one who had been completely bleached. A small amount was forgivable, but he could not say the same for those with more.

Spring.
Her favourite season. Full of new life and full of hope. When the days warm and the rain washes away the winter stains. Feeding the forests and grasslands.
Yeah, she couldn't wait.

"Cool," she mused with a grin and wag of her tail.

But...what he mentioned next...
It clenched at her heart. He was asking her to avoid those not favoured by the High Elk.
Germanicus.
No. Her only real friend. Why did it have to be him?
She looked away, conflicted. Her blood running cold.
Who could she depend on? Calhoun, before her?
"Oh," she mouthed with a hushed whisper. She didn't want to not talk to the Saber again.

"Why is Germanicus Celnes' guard?"
Why would the King have a guard who was so blatantly tarnished by the High Elk, when Sacnite herself was apparently not supposed to talk to him for fear of being frowned upon.
She blinked, innocence cast upon her face. She had no idea what to think now.

At first she appeared excited even with the fact that there was a small chance she may be cast out. Perhaps the Baron would find it strange, though he admired her enthusiasm and was sure she had the potential to join their family. It almost reminded him of himself, for he had undergone the ritual as a boy despite being born into the family. He had never been an outsider, there was no need for him to subject himself to the potential of being cast away, but his devotion pushed him to edges others lacked the courage to skirt.

That excitement, however, was short lived. A hushed "oh" as she seemed to ponder upon some thoughts.

"Why is Germanicus Celnes' guard?"

A rumble representing a grunt escaped him as he thought to the greyscaled guard his cousin foolishly kept close. He won't be for long. Cenric had made it clear, he would be cast out once spring came and if his King did not ensure so then Calhoun would himself. Celnes, my cousin, she is smart, but also a fool. She has displeased the High Elk with her desire to change our traditions. He has already sent a sign, but she is stubborn. Cenric on the other hand has his head on his shoulders. The Baron spared a glance to the woman beside him, brows lifting just enough to keep the scowl off his face. His distaste wasn't with her after all, she did not deserve to face his complaints in Celnes' stead.

Germanicus will not pass the ritual. He will be gone by Spring, if not sooner. If you will not avoid him for the sake of your own status, then do so to spare your heart. Once he fails he will be exiled. I will never understand the justifying of those who have betrayed the High Elk, just as you may never understand my view on those with shamed pelts, but this is your warning now. If you wish to live here, partake in our ways, it is best to practice early. He is not to be trusted.

The words felt like someone had taken an antler, shove dit down her throat and pierced her heart.
To think that she would feel so alone again, to think that he wouldn't be here.
That she wouldn't feel safe when venturing outside the woodland, thinking that he was silently watching.
If she were King, could she stop this?
No.
Celnes can't. What can Sacnite do?

She stared absently into nothingness. His words still very much hitting home.
Cenric was to overthrow Celnes' wishes with the ritual and have the one seen as tarnished cast from their ranks.
At least it would be spring.

She may never understand why, but she understands that they feel like they need to. And she does want to be here. They have shown her kindness and kept her safe. She licked her lips, anxious now.
Germanicus told her that she could say the things they confided with each other to the Deorwines. Would she soon be one of them? Would he not trust her anyway?
She...wanted to talk to him.

But f he was to leave...
"I feel lonely here," she swallowed, not making eyecontact yet. "The Kings are too busy, and I don't know the others very well... They, uh, scare me a bit."
She raised her gaze to him now. Unsure of what he'll say. 

His red gaze shifted to the small woman, his expression was almost blank if not for the hints of surprise and interest in his brows and eyes. She felt lonely? It was true, she wasn't a Deorwine, not yet, but there were still many friendly faces amongst their ranks that surely wouldn't care about her status. The idea that they were scary though? Well that was just laughable, in fact he did chuckle. Passionate.... annoying, He rolled his eyes thinking of more than one face to take that claim before continuing, sure, but I can assure you there is no one to fear here, especially if you are to take on our name.

Hell, Calhoun knew he could have a resting bitch face, but if you really spoke with him he liked to believe he could humor a fair conversation. The Baron hummed under his breath as he cast his eyes to the sky, Am I not good company? The question was meant as a tease, though he was genuinely curious about her answer. He did not speak with outsiders often and those he had once been close with had yet to make their way to the new home or perished in the fire. What interests you? Maybe I know someone with similar hobbies... She was a Forager so there was a passion for nature, though given their religion you could say the same for most Deorwine.

His easiness assured her.
Yeah, she was safe here.
It was probably just the prospect of opening up again to another pack.
That scared her.
"Thanks," she replied softly with a smile. He did well to assure her. It was probably his job. Or maybe his nature.

"Of course you are," she laughed softly.
"I'm glad you sat with me," she was a bit lonely. But she'd get herself out of that now.
Her head tilted as he asked more questions about her.
She thought for a moment, ensuring she was certain in her awnser.

"I love stargazing. And I like plants and watching how they grow," a short pause, "and I like meeting new packs and travelling." She grinned, her tail waving softly.

He mused a chuckle as she let out her own soft laugh. In all honesty, he was glad he too sat to chat for a while. It felt like he was mostly butting heads these days, those he was closer with lost to the fires or yet to arrive at the new home. Scanite provided nice company, though it seemed their interests did not quite align. He could appreciate the stars, though traveling and conversing with other packs was something he never did. 

In the old lands, it took days to even traverse their claim, let alone leave and find others. They were not visited by outsiders often either. With the High Elk, he never felt a desire to look for more. He had all he needed here. Those who might share her interests though, that is what he promised...plants were difficult. The only one coming to mind was their healer. That's quite the spread. You are the only Forager that I know of, but there is Cynefrid. She is a healer here, perhaps you can share your love for plants with her. As for traveling, the Kings do most of that. I'm sure they would not mind if you wished to accompany them.