Blacktail Deer Plateau Questions without answers, answers without questions

The mid morning sun was dancing high atop the sky. The sky clear as could be. The light blue digging into her blue eyes even more so. She was on the search for @Ingram. She had questions. Many questions. For starters she had just realized, were anyone to ask, she had no clear direction on what exactly their mission statement was. Not to mention she had no clear direction where she fell in the scheme of things.

Was she simply a lowly peon, which she could deal, perhaps. Maybe. Though that brought forth yet another question. What were the ranks and what did they all mean. Did they have warriors? Or simply seers and soothsayers and spiritualists.

Finally, she stopped a moment to take a breath. Staring up at the sky. Marveling at the clear cut picture it painted.

as if he senses ash paw's desire to find him, he comes across her quickly. in reality, it was simply that her scent trail had crossed over into his and since his last recruitment drive he had not spoken to her.

he lets out a soft chuff to announce his presence.

Chuff resounded nearby and black ears tilted towards it. She met the sea green glass eyes of the male she had pledged to follow and dipped her muzzle down. 

I have met a few recruits and i realized as they were talking to me. That I have questions.

She stood with a gentle step and moved forward, tail twitching behind her. She narrowed her eyes in indecision, wondering what to say.

First and foremost. I realized I don't know the mission statement. is it simply to allow all a place to worship or is there more?

mission statement? ingram inquires; finding the phrasing strange; offering a shake of his head. basilica is a haven for believers and non-believers. simple. straight-forward. those who chose to believe could take place in religious aspects and those who didn't... didn't have to. it was a driving force but not the driving force. it is a community.

or what ingram envisioned a community should be, at any rate.

A rare smile softer than usual graced her face at his words. He didn't strike her as one who wanted or needed community. He was quite a solitary individual. He didn't even like physical touch. Something she was usually pretty good at, but sometimes the fervor or a moment caught her and she was thrown for a loop and reached out.

She gave a sage nod. I accept and like that.

She studied him then, licking along the seam of her muzzle, trying to word how she wished without causing an issue. Because she was merely curious, okay perhaps she felt she deserved to be higher than some, but not him. Did that make sense.

Finally she cut blue eyes and spoke. Where do I fit? What is your vision for the hierarchy? Are we mostly seers, spiritualists and shamans or are there warriors?

everyone, it seemed, wished to know their place. to know it right away, before the fledgling basilica had even taken flight.

ingram tries his best to maintain the patience he has shown the others when addressing this issue. druid, to start. all founding wolves will be grandfathered into it. which was easier than starting at 'uninitiated' surely.

i will plan a task for each of you individually that best suits your talents, either observed by myself or told to me. a test, of sorts, to see if action could back up words ( if it was the case of a spoken trade and not one he'd witnessed himself ).

the ranks cater to trades. hunters. warriors. seers. herbalists... though those ranks may overlap.

were she privy to his musings, she would have quickly set him to rights. She did not know of her place par say. She didn't understand how the hierarchy would work. She had never been a pack wolf, she did not understand the gentle machinations of how it worked.

Her brow furrowed and she nodded. I know it seems silly to ask, but I've not been part of a pack until Sacrarium and that failed all any aspirations.

She gave a gentle chuff of air through nostrils, raising her head higher. As she always did. Though she was trying to at least be mindful not to raise it too high. Granted. Even if she wanted, she would not reach his breadth and height. 

I have met one of our members. How many others have arrived? I know more will come.

it is not an unreasonable question. ingram offers, the closest he will come to an apology for sounding, perhaps, a bit more biting than he means. this would be a repeat question when wolves came to their borders — best he get used to answering it like a broken record now.

it was a disappointment. though his expectations had not been necessarily high to begin with, unsure what to expect of them. each pack is different, catering to their leader’s choices. sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. he offers with a soft shrug of his shoulders.

two others. he responds on the topic of newest recruits.

A small smile curled along her face and she shook her head. You almost couldn't get the words out Dreadfather. 

However, she dipped her head in quiet thanks of his unspoken apology. Though she would have wrankled to know she was compared to the others that would come to the border. That wouldn't have sat well with teh wolf of high and haughty designs.

Ash frowned in thought. It was something. I feel it was too accepting. Not that it's bad to be accepting, but they barely knew more than my name, before I was intwined into their pack. Is this the norm? Is this what you do when you recruit for Basilica?

I have only met Baudelaire. He seems fun. Has aspirations to be more than he is.

it was a struggle, ingram agrees, wiry amusement tugging at the edges of his scarred lips. on the topic of the wolves of the ravenblood forest he had nothing else to say. his peace had been spoken, action taken when he had departed from them. if they managed to survive without him and ash paw than that was good — if not: it was not his concern.

sometimes, ingram responds quietly. all newcomers to basilica will sit in the rank of acolyte until they have completed a task given by me. a test of who they are, of how serious they are about being apart of us. to him, this does not seem unfair. it gives a chance for both sides to know one another and does not keep the ranks from evolving.

i’m aware, drawls ingram; perhaps even haughtily. i have read his threadbones.

a pause is given. i can read yours sometime, he offers after another beat, before gesturing with his scarred muzzle. come, he invites. let us check the food caches. perhaps together the two of us can find some rabbits to add.

whether she accepted the invitation or not was up to her for either way, ingram departs then to tend to the caches.