Duskfire Glacier stone-age mind in a space-world age

@Scarlett @Sen @Malachi @Manauia @Týrr @Shalon @Raphael @Maera @Adlartok Tuwa summons everyone to meet after finding the wolf head on the borders!

The dethroned ember marched towards Duskfire's heart, the first light of daybreak ebbing from behind the glacier. She was rife with disdain for the Stavanger barbarians, who had become marked kidnappers by the dominoed informant. Yet, beneath Tuwawi's unadulterated hate for the coastal heathens boiled a seething contempt for Malachi's insidious treachery. If the sylph was to be believed -- which Tuwawi did blindly -- he had hidden from her the true location of her son. Was it out of spite that the seemingly peaceable king betrayed her so? Her teeth clicked together as she brewed potently on this matter, sharp gaze hungry for retribution one way or another.

The meltwater lake came into view -- a haze drifting atop its surface ominously. Here, Tuwawi loosed a raucous summons into the air to retrieve the wolves who had scattered upon the discovery of the beheaded wolf. She paced dangerously while waiting, pressed to discover the true depths of the Bay's, and the pack's, deceit.

Frankly, Scarlett wasn't far away from Tuwawi. It was all her fault. She had done this. She shouldn't have gone to Black Feather to meet Kove. She was so foolish. Now Scarlett had brought a nightmare on their pack. How could she ever face the others!? When Tuwawi howled for the Duskfire wolves Scarlett was hesitant to respond. She was more than okay with sulking in her hiding spot. More than okay.

The albino eventually pulled herself from under the log. Why would she even respond to Tuwawi? The child attacker. Tuwawi was not her alpha! But in all truth. Scarlett was afraid of her. She didn't want Tuwawi to attack her too. A soft sigh came off her lips before Scarlett trotted towards the red collared female. The first thing Scarlett noticed was the rage Tuwawi was displaying. There seemed to be more to it. The red eyed female quietly joined Tuwawi and sat down, her eyes cast to the ground as she bit the inside of her cheek.

Manauia had tracked the trail a ways, but it had run cold when the snows were left behind. The scent of salt had been apparent to her as well, and led her to also know that the threat likely came from one of two places... Stavanger Bay, or the false Amazons. Unless there were other coastal dwellers she was unaware of, these were the likely sources. Unless a loner had done this; it would take a rather crazy one to challenge an entire pack, but such creatures existed.

If it was indeed the 'Amazons', then they were false indeed. She had already had that suspicion well enforced in her conversation with the female from the Bay (haha) but this would cement it. True warriors did not make threats, for such posturing was for lesser warriors. They would have come unannounced to rain blood and death upon the Glacier.

The rusted huntress could only see an appropriation of name as a threat against her own homeland and an affront to her beloved sisters. She knew she would need to bring word of this to her queen. It did not occur to her that it could have happened by chance - chance was not a thing she believed in.

When she returned, she honed in on the source of the call, guessing what it was about. She remained a ways back, however, not wishing to mingle but to hear the proceedings.

After having taken off in search of whoever was bold enough to leave such a gift right on the border of the Glacier, it hadn't been long before she needed to stop. Sen was one capable of traveling for long periods of time, but trying to track something and follow it after the scent ran dry was something she could not do. It had been a disappointment for a number of reasons, and while she'd considered just blindly continuing forward, the woman had found herself heading back towards the pack's territory before her mind had even been made up. It was an unconscious decision, one made by legs and the part of her mind that always seemed to stay silent.

When the soot coated lady was nearing the borders, she was careful to avoid going near the putrid smelling head. She was sure the onslaught of the deathly smell wouldn't be as bad the second time around, but even if she had decided to change her mind and head towards it, the call that sounded through the air wouldn't have allowed it. She didn't recognize the voice—which, honestly, wasn't so surprising. There was probably several wolves in her pack she'd yet to officially meet, and didn't often make an advanced in getting to know them. Despite her lack of knowledge on the woman, Sen followed after the call until the forms of others were within her line of sight. She assumed the fire-like woman was the one to have called, and it appeared the dark being was not the first to answer. Her legs carried her over to stand a length or so away from the albino, not willing to set herself right beside her as if they were the greatest friends around. “What's got her all riled up?” she murmured, her words meant for Scarlett, or anyone who wished to hear them. As always, a grin somehow found it's way onto her face, as if she'd completely forgotten about the mutilated wolf head on the border.

Týrr had been present when the Glacier's true leader had let out a screech that she would kill them all, all who had threatened them. The chocolate cloaked Rekkr did not blame her, he, too was angry and desired to know why the women of the Sound had done this, had made this threat and grave mistake upon their borders — nevertheless unaware that Tuwawi thought it was the wrong pack. Yet, the Rekkr did not follow after her as she departed the scene, instead favoring to stay with his previous determination the same: he would protect what was precious to him, that he would protect the borders of the Glacier in the case that the perpetrator returned; if the trail was just a ruse. Time had begun to pass and though the culprit had yet to make a loop and return, Týrr began to grown anxious where he stood and had begun to pace, wearing a path in snow and dirt where his paws prints had begun to overlap one another — that was until Tuwawi's howl broke through the air. It's message was clear: it was a summons, and it gave the Rekkr a spark of hope that she would attempt to re-claim her throne. After all, it was only leaders that summoned the entire pack to him, and a shiver of excitement ran down his spine, despite the grim reminder that he paced near served as a putrid reminder of the threat that lingered upon them.

Týrr's pacing ceased and he made in the direction that his Queen's call rose from, coming upon the small gathering in as timely a manner as he could manage, having been a bit away from the Glacier's heart. Crystalline eyes touched Tuwawi first, lingering there for a moment before his gaze wondered to touch those that had arrived. Manauia captured the Rekkr's attention next, despite that the Amazon had left some distance between the group and herself. For a small moment he studied the Huntress before his gaze moved on, sweeping over the unfamiliar ebony female and touching last upon the ivory woman with the disturbing colored eyes. The one who had spoken of Tuwawi in a manner that had not initially earned the Rekkr's favor. His eyes narrowed as they observed her, his impressions of her lowered still by her retreat into the Glacier as if she were a mewling, suckling pup. The Glacier needed wolves who would defend her, not cower within the fortress and hope that the threat would magically go away. Still, the Rekkr kept silent, turning his attention to something he found much more pleasant, even though Tuwawi was seething.

Týrr understood and he would stand behind her without question, nor a blink of an eyelash, though the Rekkr's head whipped in the direction of the ebony woman who inquired as to what had Tuwawi riled up with a grin upon her face that made the Prince's hackles bristle at the end hairs though, quickly, he stopped himself before they could fully rise. In-fighting would get them no where. Had she not been there? Had she not seen what had been left for them? The ebony woman's words might not have been meant for him but he had heard, regardless. The woman had not been there, had not seen nor heard Tuwawi's reaction to finding it like he had, but even so. What else would it have been? "The cowardly threat of a rotting head left on our doorstep," The Rekkr responded coolly, patient despite how irritated her question and accordingly smirk made him.

He had gone further than the rest, searching the ground for the trail long after it ran dry. Malachi did not beg the others to press on with him, nor did he blame them for turning back to Duskfire once the snows petered out to solid ground. The man's mind was a rage of emotion, skipping between fear and confusion and anger and guilt, all funnelled toward the briny wolf he believed to be the giver of the wretched gift left on the safety of the border. She had given her word to return in a week's time, and he had given her a month before searching the shores for signs of her presence. Never superstitious, Malachi wondered if these lands were wrought to make him so, for if this wolf was anything, she was the epitome of a ghost. She had vanished again, and his eyes scanned the horizon sharply for signs of her retreat. Yet nothing but wilderness greeted him, and with little direction or knowledge of the land, he let out a breath of frustration and turned his shaking paws back to face the Glacier again.

Now with his eyes upon his homeland, every inch of emotion he propelled against Caiaphas accused him all the same. He had taken Caiaphas for her word, and had waited patiently for her return. Her answer was never supposed to be like this. A mangled corpse, a sign Malachi wasn't skilled to interpret in full, but one that made bile rise every time his thoughts returned to its bloody face and plucked-out eyes. He didn't need someone to explain it to him, for he understood the message loud and clear: Larus was theirs, or blood would be spilled, be it the Bay's or the Glacier's. And as much as he wished to rescue the child and rise against the injustice ushered against them, he didn't want to see the blood of either.

Tuwawi's howl caught him as he neared the Glacier, but the trembling of his legs prevented him from running toward her. Her cry was incensed and bitter, and he couldn't press the tendril of fear that snaked its way into his heart. When he finally dragged himself to the place of meeting, he stopped near the edge of the gathered group. Though many had gathered, he did not turn to them, for only one caught him rapt in fear. An anger unabashed sparked from Tuwawi's fire-kissed fur, and an uncanny dread settled in his innermost core as he opened his mouth to utter the sentiment he'd hoped to tell her only when she had entered a downswing of her rage - they have Larus - for what he thought to be reasons that would save them all in the end. Timing seemed of little matter now, but his voice made only a squeak as his words stuck in his throat, stopped by the ruminating fire in her eyes.

No posting order, really :O

Tuwawi was less than patient as she waited, often staring at the curling mist with flat eyes. Her agitated tail twitched, withers quaking with anticipation. The heart of the pack heeded her call punctually and the Duskfire wolves began to mingle together. Five had gathered by the meltwater, the group a spectrum of moods shrouded within the tense atmosphere. Tuwawi observed each with a burning scowl. Scarlett's tentative aura was palpable, but besides her a dark woman, who the Sveijarn had not met, grinned obtusely. Tyrr and Manauia sat stoic and focused -- Malachi bringing up the rear.

She realized, then, she hadn't many friends among her. The ember found herself more at odds with the majority of the troupe rather than true allies -- her savage attack on Adlartok waning their trust. A few of the newest recruits, and Maera, had yet to arrive, but the mother's gaze set pointedly on Malachi, to which she began her address.

"I intercepted a visitor on the borders yesterday. A white colored woman with a dark head — narrow — looking for Danica. She smelled of the ocean. Salt. Said she was from Stavanger Bay and brought news." The matriarch's voice was low and raspy with a tenuous hold. "Malachi," she looked to him, "she says you knew my son - my Larus - was being held by the Bay." The air hissed from Tuwawi's lungs, gaze sliding across the many faces before her. "And now... they leave this... this head on our doorstep." Her tone rose considerably, voice shrill "a HEAD!" She paced to and fro, "It's an affront to us all! They mean us dead!"

Suddenly, Tuwawi came to an abrupt halt, thinking of all the fiendish ways she could exact her revenge. "Duskfire was supposed to be my family's home. Our home... and these heathens have taken a piece of it." Her lips slicked back wickedly against sharp enamel, but her voice became ominously quiet. "I have been ruined for it," the dethroned admitted candidly.

She paused and straightened her posture. "Tell me, wolves... what do you know of the Bay. How can we make suffer."

Scarlett inched a bit more towards Sen once she arrived. Somehow the pale female felt safer with Sen than closer to Tuwawi. Something really bad had happened and being in group Scarlett was rather quiet than her bubbly self. Maybe it was also because she was the one that caused all of this. Then, once everyone arrived. Tuwawi started explaining. Scarlett listened with wide set eyes to her story. It hit Scarlett like a flood wave. So she wasn't the one that caused this? The pale female hadn't even smelled the bloodied head because she had been so scared. Slowly Scarlett sat more upright and watched Tuwawi with some curiosity. Was the female behaving so manically before because of the loss of her children?

Scarlett's face fell into a frown when the fire furred woman suggested how we could make them suffer. The kind albino immediately disagreed. She had to bite her tongue to not cry out something foolish. Scarlett didn't know much of the bay. She had been there once and met some of the pups there. Levi and Charon. But they weren't Tuwawi's pups, right? Scarlett got on all her four paws, trying to speak up. "How would we be different from them if we would do the same thing? We would be just as bad as the wolf that did this. Who knows what this will start. We would always be in war and not safe in our home ever again!," she barked. Scarlett then sighed softly. She knew the mother wanted revenge. "I am not saying we shouldn't do anything at all. But I am not really a fan of making others suffer in general. You can kill the wolf who did it but I do not want not make a whole pack suffer because there is one black sheep between them. There might be innocent children there. Maybe even your own, Tuwawi. I have spoken with two of the pups from the bay and they didn't seem to have a mother?"

Scarlett then felt a bit more fire burning in her now she knew it wasn't her fault. Some pack of the bay did this to them. "How can you call for us to fight for you while you harm your own kin within Duskfire? I will fight for Duskfire as my own home but that home is with Adalartok and other children. You have to promise you allow them in our pack! It might also show the trust others need to fight for you. We can't have ruthless attacks on one of our own while being attacked by another pack!! If this fight happens, there will be no more killing within Duskfire either, Tuwawi!" Scarlett felt a bit dizzy from being so bold. But it had been on her tongue for long enough now. She made her point. She knew Tuwawi's attack was meant to kill.

Dun dun dunnnnn

His gaze remained fixed upon Tuwawi, and he shivered beneath the cutting stare she ushered in return. Her eyes convicted him, and his chest tightened, and even more than before his voice was lost to the cool dread that filled his core.

She spoke before he could find his voice, and though the queen's voice was feeble, her words were enough to catch the man’s attention rapt. The ghost had returned, as she had promised long ago, but not for him. A thin line drew across Malachi's brows at the mention of Danica, for he had known nothing of her private involvement in the matter. Had she caught scent of the child, too? Before deeper musing could take hold, the sound of his name coursed a chill through his spine, and he felt Tuwawi’s gaze upon him again. With a beat of hesitation he locked his eyes upon her. Time seemed forever before she spoke again, and her simple words convicted him. Malachi parted his mouth again to speak, but Tuwawi’s fire had yet to burn dry, and he clicked his teeth shut as her crackling anger swallowed the clearing like cold flames.

Malachi closed his eyes against her, shielding his heart from the twisted look that consumed the ember’s face, contorted with rage and hate and grief. He could not look upon her, ripe with his own shame and distilled at the fearsome hush of her voice. Her words only deepened the chill that bit harder than the winter’s air. To make others suffer was the last thing he wanted to do.

Before he could gather himself, Scarlett spoke, and Malachi turned his ear to hear her rebuttal. Every word sent a bold refute against Tuwawi's actions and her desire for war, and Malachi shifted - yet with every one, he agreed. Was violence the only answer, or simply all the ember now knew? ”Scarlett’s right,” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat before he spoke again. ”There has to be another way.”

He trained his eyes upon Tuwawi, and addressed her directly - as she had done to him. He felt his hackles bristle with fear of what revealing his concealment of Larus could bring, but he knew he could hide the knowledge no longer. It was with hope they could avoid war that he had hid this from her, and that he had sought answers on his own. But everything was on the table now, and when he parted his mouth for the third time that night, words finally came. ”Her name is Caiaphas. I came across her near Duskfire and yes, I smelt Larus on her fur,” he swallowed, but stopped his tongue from flashing compulsively across his lips. ”I tried to talk her into returning him to us. She promised to speak with her Alpha and return with his answer. I sought her out after that, but I - I couldn’t find her. I - ” his throat ran dry and his words stuck again. He cast a hesitant look toward Scarlett before returning his attention to Tuwawi. His heart never stilled. ”I fear this is the answer.”

Tuwawi began to speak when those that were arriving made their way into the clearing. Týrr glimpsed around at the faces gathered, sweeping over each one, lingering for a moment upon Malachi, noting the man's discomfort though he did not know precisely why. At the moment, the Rekkr could not find it in him to care — the point was this was obviously not a random act and had likely stemmed from something earlier, something that had happened under Malachi's reign. For Týrr this only reconfirmed his initial thoughts upon the other male's reign as King and merely added an incentive for the Rekkr's designs to see Tuwawi back on the throne, and if she did not wish for it then he would take it. He would restore peace and bring about the lost glory of this Glacier. Bewilderment, however, slammed into Týrr when Tuwawi named off Stavanger Bay as the culprit, his brows furrowing down in perplex and disagreement. The Rekkr was silent as Scarlett and Malachi blatantly defied Tuwawi, disagreeing with the Dróttning and speaking out against her. It made his hackles bristle that they would be so disrespectful when she was merely reacting how any grieving mother would: with vengeance lighting the fire of her ire; or perhaps Týrr just understood this because he, too, sought Vengeance.

It occurred to Týrr with a quickness that the fate of the Bay literally laid at his paws. He could say nothing except encourage Tuwawi's desire for revenge and see about their destruction, or he could do the honorable thing (because despite that he had changed and grown up he still had honor) and inform her that this had not been the work of the Vikings. No matter how much he wished otherwise he had lived among them, had believed himself to be one of them, had worshiped their Gods and fought beside them and he knew that the Vikings would never make a move so cowardly. Besides, if he did not speak up then Tuwawi herself might steal his kill from him, and though Týrr wanted Ragnar dead, he wanted to be the one to do it, on his own terms, at his own time. Forever holding his peace would ruin his carefully constructed plan.

“Tuwawi,” Týrr called to her, unsure if her attention would contain her ire or not. Nevertheless, what he had to do was staring him down the barrel and if it meant sparing a pack that was, for once, actually a victim in this as well, then he could not ignore his honor. “This is not the work of Stavanger Bay, nor Ragnar. They have been framed. I used to live with them, or their Alpha Male before I first came to these Wilds,” Týrr did not share just how well he knew Ragnar, that he had blindly believed that the Jarl had been his father. “And while I cannot speak well of his character I know that he and his Vikings would never do something as cowardly as let a threat at our door. If they wanted to attack us they would have already been in our territory spilling our blood. The Northmen are not cowards and do not hide behind such things.” The Rekkr spoke with conviction because he had seen it happen, and had even aided in it once or twice. You only knew they were coming when it was too late. “And if my word on how they fight is not proof enough I have visited the pack during my time as a lone wolf before you recruited me and I can tell you that the pack scent that hung in with the salt and ocean brine scent was not Stavanger Bay. It didn't smell of Ragnar or his wolves at all. Just because the scent is that of the coast isn't enough to convict a pack especially when I know the Vikings' behaviors and this is inconsistent. Ragnar would never dishonor his Gods by being less than he is; and kidnapping children doesn't sound like him. He is a father himself." All he did know was that it hadn't been the Bay (Or so this was his determined conviction) and no one was going to lay a claw or tooth on Ragnar. Not because Týrr cared but because he wanted that honor for himself.

“I don't care either way for the pack nor it's Jarl but they are innocent in this,” He paused, searching Tuwawi's face wondering if she would believe him or if he would, in turn, suffer from the heat of her fiery ire. “I will do whatever you ask of me Tuwawi, I will kill whomever you point me at ...as long as it is the actual culprit and not the scapegoat.” He was not disagreeing with her, merely trying to guide her to see the truth through the lies she had obviously been fed. To the disagreement of Malachi and Scarlett both of whom seemed hell bent on getting Tuwawi off of her war path, he offered nothing to, acting instead as if they had not spoken at all.

modified to include only knowledge she would know!

They all spoke much, first the white female blathering (rather predictably) that violence was not the answer. Manauia's scathing gaze was drawn when Malachi backed her up, and an audible snort was given. Of course he would. But the only answer to such a cowardly insult could be death, and she wholeheartedly agreed with Tuwawi in that. Life was only sacred in those who deserved to hold it, and cowards wasted resources better served.

Tyrr's remarks were lengthy but at least held purpose. So it was not the Bay who were the culprits. She wondered if it was, in fact, the false imposters of her homeland with whom war was evident. The only other of the coastal groups she was aware of, if that Bay wolf she had met was to be believed. What was it the girl had called them, so long ago? Recalling, she closed her eyes. Nereides, that was it. Wonderful. Perhaps they would stir up trouble and be destroyed in the process, though it would take more than Duskfire to do it she imagined. Mayhap if the Viking heathens found out about the lies that had been told, they could be convinced to move against the falsifiers. Then the two could tear one another apart. Even if it was not true that the Nereides were behind it, it would be two birds, one stone. But first she would need to discover, for sure, if these Amazons were of her own order. There could be no doubt if she was to deal execution.

The two who protested were right to fear. If a fight came of any sort, be it Vikings, false Amazons, or another group, she doubted either of the two would survive.

When the one the woman knew as the leader arrived, and the conversation turned serious, the grin slipped from the obsidian wolf's face. Her ears perked as she listened to the words exchanged between them, not caring to join in. The fire-like wolfess wanted revenge—not she could blame her—and then two others didn't want to succumb to violence. Either course of action was fine to the dark girl, just as long as whatever violent acts conducted didn't involve her going head-to-head with another. She could defend herself, but the lupine was built to run, not fight. Running in a battle would be cowardly, though, and she preferred to keep up her fearless-act. The wolf who left the gift, whoever they might be or where they are from, are not wolves Sen would want to go after, anyways, as it was still unsettling. Still, she knew she would follow blindly to play out whatever course of action was selected as a response. A fool's act, really, but that's what she often ended up being.

The mutilated head. The image popped into her mind, as did a thought. If whoever had left it could do that without a care in the world, then would any course of action really work? Without violence, they could end up being seen as an easy target, but retaliation could lead the mutilator right back to their doorstep, but this time with something more than the head of the dead. Sen gave a small shake of her cranium, and went back to listening to what the others were saying. Maybe they would come to an agreement—no, she doubted that happening.

Okay, I think all the posts have been changed? I apologize if this is a mega post!

Tuwawi eyed the wolves with a discerning look and paused to let them speak, hostility like a drawn arrow ready to be loosed. She expected maybe Týrr or Malachi to be the first to raise their voice against the Bay's transgression, yet it was Scarlett, the sympathetic albino, who was the first to speak her mind. However, the pale girl did not rally to Tuwawi's demands for revenge as the mother had hoped. Instead, the naive caretaker rambled endlessly about ethics and caused the dethroned to wonder if the beheaded wolf had made an impression on her at all? Not a fan of making others suffer in general — the words practically made the matriarch's veins burst with malice in light of the fiendish acts their enemies had committed. This wasn't one wolfs doing, no... that's why those damned ocean curs ran in a pack. If they neglected to let a member leave such a heinous mark on another's border, then who wasn't to say they deserved the full wrath of the evoked?

But it was Scarlett's next statement that tightened the firebrand's jaw, and set the hairs of her spine to ignite with further fury. As far as she was concerned, Adlartok was dead or gone. To allude he was alive and kin was a crime in of itself. Scarlett was weak. To think she would make it upon the glacier at all was laughable and with each moment in her presence, all Tuwawi could feel was a great hatred for the ignorant girl. She was no warrior, belonging not to the mountain but to the soil beneath it; deserving death for her scrutiny, and only that. But it was not her place to dole out punishment - as much as she may have desired, as hot as her blood may boil at this point, and so Tuwawi could only level her furious gaze upon the ruby red of her enemy.

Malachi's tentative answer cracked the ember's fixation, though, again, her ambitions were spurned by those who chanced to call themselves Duskfire in that moment. There were no words for the substitute king of the glacier. Tuwawi could barely look upon him without the urge to bare her fangs and give him the reprimand he so sorely needed; but as he voiced his agreement with the foolish girl, a low rumble permeated the air - and after a moment, she realized it was her own voice, unbidden, which loosed itself. Her voice shook as she condemned him - condemned all of them - for their weakness. "Talk her into returning my son? I have never looked down upon greater fools!" she seethed unabated, "Adlartok had no right to set foot here, as Malachi had no right to allow him passage in the first place. He chose to challenge my word and bled for it! A fool's grave mistake." She took a step towards the pair, "This enemy means to cut our throats while we sleep. This is no time for wistful thinking — we must act," she hissed pointedly at Scarlett, "and I have no room for your foolish delusions on my glacier."

Malachi's cowardly spiel managed to churn up some information, however. Caiaphas — at least they had a name to a face. The conniving witch. She knowingly held Larus despite her tall tale of teachery. But what had spurred the heathen to openly goad them now? Týrr's baritone voice rumbled then, convinced that the Bay had no hand in these matters. "What?" Tuwawi jeered as she digested the prince's knowledge, but the ember glowered, unconvinced. "How can you be so sure, Týrr? Any wolf born of the sea is a lying wretch," for the Sveijarn had first hand experience. "Those damned Kesuks! The Sirens! They are all the same!" a paw stamped the ground, punctuating her belief, "and wolves of the Bay are no different!" Tuwawi's discrimination was open, her ire waxing. Yet, Týrr's words managed to temper her flame, if only the slightest, to think of a plausible scheme. "We must scout," she told them, " 'lest you want them to roll your heads, too." She surveyed the group, especially the silent Manauia and Sen, eyes falling last on the most outspoken — Scarlett. "Got it?"

No don't apologize! Tuwa is an interesting character.

Scarlett knew that Tuwawi wouldn't agree with her words, she was blinded with rage after all. She couldn't think clearly. Scarlett really wondered how the female was before she returned with her manic state and that.. collar around her neck. The albino let her ears fell back in disagreement. At least Malachi took her side, she gratefully smiled faintly at him. At least she wasn't alone in this. Scarlett felt that rage build up again when she said that Adlartok wasn't welcome. The albino didn't agree but now was not the moment to go against her. They had this matter to solve. She wanted to growl and snarl how it was not Tuwawi'sglacier. It was just as much their Glacier as Tuwawi's. They were a pack but Tuwawi would probably never see her as a full member. Slowly she started to envision Tuwawi as her past in wolf form. The fire furred didn't accept her. She probably thought that Scarlett was weak and she made Scarlett feel unwelcome. All aspects her family did to her.

Scarlett bared her teeth the to hissing female across from her her. But she had to remind herself that she wasn't weak like them. Scarlett believed that it took far more strength to be nice to enemies than to show them anger an violence. Once they think you are soft and weak you could start a surprised attack that would go for the kill, Scarlett thought. That was Scarlett's own sly hidden way of thinking about things. "You are not the alpha, Tuwawi. It is up to Malachi what we will do with this issue. I am not listening to you. If you want to fight then please spill blood but don't expect me to join. Think of me as weak all you want. I don't care. I respect your decision so I expect you respect mine.," she then spoke calmly, her lip covering her teeth again. Scarlett then looked at the young man that had took on the role as alpha after Tuwawi's disappearance. Scarlett knew that she was strong in her own way.

Derp. I'm sorry for the long post, too. Sorry, Scarlett ;_; I feel like I have betrayed you. Stay gold, ponyboy. Stay gold.

Tuwawi seemed to make little of his confession to his knowledge of Larus, but on his agreement with Scarlett the fire queen scathed. He diverted his gaze from her own, but did not close his ears to her words. Rather he let them cut him to the quick, and his throat tightened at her accusation, his face burning with shame under the title she cursed upon his head. A fool. The wolves of the Vale had believed him to be the same. Though they hadn't dared speak such against him, the silent accusation in his family's eyes was enough to tell him so when they had uncovered his brother from beneath the landslide that had swallowed their home. Her words stung him, and brought to light the pain he had done well to bury in its shallow grave. He had wronged her, and he could not argue in his defence.

To talk Caiaphas into returning Larus was what Malachi wanted to do, but with every word Tuwawi spewed against them, he doubted his conviction more and more. He wanted to believe there was another way that would not end in bloodshed, but blood had already been spilled. On the night he had met the sea wolf, he had tried to bargain with her, but talk had been fruitless. The night had ended in her departure, and her answer, though two months overdue, was one that spoke nothing of peace. A dismembered head when they had done nothing wrong, ripe with the sea wolf's scent and embraced by her cutting voice. The sign was clear, and as much as he wished it away, he could not ignore what the others so clearly saw.

In Blackwood the packs had been as close as kin. They helped each other and knew one another on levels deeper than anything he had seen in these vast and foreign lands. This would have never have happened, but if it had, what would his father have done? Peace had only been possible because all sides agreed it was for the greater good, and to be greeted by this blatant disregard for the life of others would have defied that agreement and spat in its face. Malachi did not know what the Vale would have done, but he knew they would not turn their eyes away, and if he was of any worth, then neither could he.

The exchange between Tyrr and Tuwawi that followed passed him in a haze. The young man had drawn into himself, ruminating through the conflicting ideals that cut him through. Scarlett believed they could talk it out - but could they? Tyrr and Tuwawi thought otherwise, and the words of the earthen man, which had come to align with Tuwawi's own, held greater sway than the ember's. Since her attack on Adlartok, Malachi's doubts had grown against the stability of the queen, and he doubted her now. But Tyrr spoke with a level head and a knowledge of these lands that far exceeded his own. Further still he stood for those innocent, yet submitted himself to the prospect of war with those who were guilty of this terrible wrong. Though Tuwawi did not seem convinced by Tyrr's words, it changed nothing for what they had done to stir the thoughts of the young Kalderon. It wasn't vengeance he sought so much as justice, and if these wolves had already murdered another to drive Duskfire to war when the Glacier had done nothing wrong, then perhaps peace was beyond them.

An exasperated sigh escaped him, aimed at none but himself. His decision was clear, but when Scarlett voiced her rebuttal to Tuwawi's words, he wished everything could just be over. He had agreed with her, and he still did, for he did not wish the innocent to suffer. But he could not let the guilty go unpunished. Tuwawi was right, and his father was right. He was a fool. He was a fool to think he was able to lead these wolves in a foreign land, when all experience had proven that following him only ended in death. Danica had been wise when she'd turned away his press for her to take leadership here. She'd been wise to leave when she had, and he wished he had followed. But he had been selfish, thinking he could fix the mistakes he'd made by taking a whole pack under his protection, and what a fool he had proven himself in the end. The maiming of Adarltok was his fault, that Larus was still lost was his fault, that these wolves now suffered Caiaphas' threat was his fault. He knew what he had to do, but he could not lead Scarlett into this if she did not wish to come. He would not lead another to their death. "I understand," he said, and diverted his gaze from Tuwawi's face, not daring to look at Scarlett, for the shame that ran through him was already too deep. For Adlartok's sake, he hoped she remained strong, for he had already failed. "We will find who did this and bring them to justice." And if that end was their death, then so be it.

Responding now because I am travelling tomorrow. Mar -- this is probably a rank challenge :o

Malachi conceded beneath Tuwawi's weighted voice and impassioned leer, the man's compliance securing him a place at Duskfire's, and Tuwawi's, side. After all, wasn't that what she wanted? To preserve and protect her vision for their pack? Though the Sveijarn's words were course and her tongue was sharp, the dethroned would fight tooth and nail for any who aligned themselves with the glacial pack -- and if Malachi had been in Larus' place, Tuwawi would have brought down hellfire's hammer, all the same. To think that these wolves naught lifted a finger for her son was enough to make the firebrand retch. Yet, even now in this call to arms Scarlett remained steadfast to her pacifistic ideals.

"Up to him?" she crowed. "He who knowingly let barbarians hold my son hostage for months? Don't make me laugh." She moved towards Scarlett with a lofty posture, red tail stiff and bristling in the air. Her eyes narrowed, voice heavy and rolling like an oncoming storm. "Any wolf who is unwilling to spill blood in order to save a brother has no place at Duskfire," Tuwawi growled, "and will never have my respect." Her ears pitched forward, lips curled to make her dominant stance all the more apparent. "Get out."

Do we get exp for this pack activity btw?

Scarlett looked at Tuwawi and flattened her ears against her skull. It was like her old pack all over again. Her mother telling to go away and Scarlett deciding that she would stay away forever. Tuwawi's red fur had changed into that of her mother since the scenarios were so similar. "Well then you won't have mine either," Scarlett returned. "And I am not leaving because you want me to. I am leaving because I want to myself. I am not living under the command of a maniac," the red eyed female spoke. "I hope you will feel better Tuwawi, I really do. Maybe that collar of yours is too tight and makes you act all crazy. I hope you find your son and you are happy with having the glacier back. @Adlartok and I will be leaving," she returned.

The female didn't even look at Malachi. Adlartok was right. He was weak. But still, he was her friend. Scarlett would never be unkind to him. The albino then turned around and dashed off to her den to fetch Adlartok before Tuwawi would chase after her and injure him further. Her light frame speeding through the forest. Tears prickled in her eyes. What would she do now?! Kove. She should go to Kove. He would know what to do.

Malachi's response was conceding to Tuwawi, surprisingly submissive for the fact that it was he that held the title of sole ruler of the Glacier. For the first time, there was a small rise of pity within the Rekkr's chest but the fact that Tuwawi, as the ember soon pointed out, had come to learn that Malachi had hid his knowledge regarding Larus' presence made it writhe and die. It was one thing for a regular subordinate to withhold information that — not that, that shouldn't be punished — but for an King to do so, to never act to find the missing was another matter all together. Though Týrr had left not once but twice at least, the first time, he had gone in search of Njal and Larus. Crystalline eyes went back to Tuwawi, dutifully when she addressed him. Her jeer made him wince internally but the Rekkr held fast, keeping his gaze steady and resolute upon her. She was angry, spurred by fresh ire and no doubt worry; and likely not thinking as clearly as she could have been, ready to tear at the throat of the Bay without stopping to consider everything. Admittedly, this was likely what Scarlett and Malachi had been attempting to do, but they had been wrong about it in their ways. War was the only conclusion. Those who had done this had to be made to suffer, and with that he would never rise to dispute; but he was born of War. His attempts were not to dissuade her, but to convince her of what he, loathe as he was to admit it, was convinced of: that Ragnar and his Vikings were innocent. He could have been wrong but he was willing to bet his life that he wasn't. This was not the way of the Vikings and Týrr did not see Ragnar abandoning the culture or ways of life that he loved so much, had no reason to as far as the Rekkr could see.

“Because I know Ragnar, Tuwawi. For all the sins that he has, he would never abandon his culture or way of life, and what was left to us is not the Viking way,” He had already told her that if Ragnar wanted to harm them he'd have done it already. He would have barged in as if he owned the place without hesitation or fear of death. That was how the Vikings worked. Threats and hints were of no use to them, not when they could pillage and take what they wanted. They were not subtle in their approach but their presence would not have been known until it was too late and they were already there.

“Am I a lying wretch then, too, Tuwawi?” Týrr asked her softly, wanting her to see that just because her previous experiences had been bad did not mean that every coastal wolf was like that. He wasn't. He had never lied to her, even taking a gamble to expose the truth: that he'd once been apart of the pack that Ragnar had led before they'd both came to the Teekon Wilds, despite that it could have been a bad choice for him; and he had no intentions of ever lying to her. Sure, he had withheld information but the Rekkr felt nothing but resentment towards the scarred Northman. In the end his willingness to speak up was tilted in Ragnar's favor by the simple fact that Týrr did not want anyone else to steal his kill. Ragnar was his life to end, and no one would take that away from him.

Still, his words seemed to have calmed Tuwawi, even if only a little bit. A little bit was better than full on fiery rage. He was silent when Tuwawi suggested sending a scout. While he would have volunteered for the job he had too much of a connection for it to be of any use, having once been a subordinate of the held accused, and thus held his tongue; besides he was more useful to the Glacier if he remained.

The Rekkr's hackles bristled when Scarlett spoke up against Tuwawi once more, spitting in the ember's face that she wasn't the Alpha. Foolish girl, Týrr barely resisted the urge to sneer at the pallid girl. Tuwawi was the only one with the claim to be the Alpha, in the Rekkr's mind, though he was largely biased. Týrr watched the progression, feeling a small swell of pride in his chest as Tuwawi stepped into her rightful role as dröttning as she told Scarlett to get out. Crystalline eyes flickered to the ivory woman then, surprised to hear her declare her departure and that she would be taking Adlartok — the pathetic sniveling, broken child with her, as if that was going to make any difference other than a good one to the Glacier. After all, the child was little more than a waste of space. He ate their food, wasted down their medicinal caches and offered nothing useful in return. It would have been kinder of Tuwawi to have killed him and been done with it; however she hadn't, though the thought had certainly crossed the Rekkr's mind to finish the job when he met face to face with the child.

Týrr watched Scarlett depart with a lift of his lip, though as soon as her silhouette disappeared he turned his eyes, once more, to Tuwawi, the true monarch of the pack, his deeply rooted loyalty even more refined than it had been before. Týrr wondered if Malachi would bother to fight Tuwawi or if he would step down willingly for her, allow her what was truly hers; though currently Malachi did not appear as if he had the will to fight her. It was a smart move, as far as Týrr cared to see, for he would have attacked anyone who dared, at this point, to challenge Tuwawi's obvious authority, ensuring that his Queen could reclaim her throne once more.

short short!

She said nothing as accusations were thrown and harsh words exchanged, for she had nothing to add. She was beginning to see, however, why Tezca respected Tuwawi so. She was a firm and harsh ruler, but she commanded respect, unlike the others. Malachi and Scarlett were far too 'nice', allowing others to do as they pleased. The way of the ruler was to rule, to look after their own and not to look to outsiders. Tuwawi was a bit frenzied, but at least she understood this.

Finally the white wolfess was gone, an action Manauia wholeheartedly approved of. Ever since she had found her chatting up that Stavanger boy she had known her days to be numbered here. Manauia had never approved of her, nor was she going to start pretending now. She watched her go soundlessly, but a small and tight smile graced her lips.

Yes exp! :O Last post for me!

Scarlett assured herself that she was leaving by her own volition, but if the albino had decided otherwise it was certain the firebrand would have clawed tooth and nail to cleanse her glacier of the girl's nativity. She turned with a retort - a passive and snide remark - to which the Sveijarn snapped her jaws with a click. Though Duskfire would be two wolves weaker, they were certainly better off without that lot. The mother continued to simmer, her glowering expression watching the treeline until the last wisp of moon-colored hair disappeared betwixt the pines.

Tuwawi's mane flattened some, a brief wash of reprieve ebbing over her. Yet her ire simmered dangerously, still fired by the grating confrontation. Only Sen, Malachi, Tyrr, and Manauia remained by the melt-water. Truly, the mother's relationship with each was shaky at best. How could she get Larus back with such a small militia? Always the voice of reason, Tyrr spoke next. His words made the queen visibly flinch, Tuwawi's own vitriol used against her, but the ember could not forfeit her self-assurance and so her head turned with a stubborn tsk. She had forgotten the dark man's origins — a wolf who hailed from these viking clans (or so she thought) — but even his calm demeanor had trouble cooling her provoked discrimination.

The sun began to peek between the tops of the canopy's boughs, and Tuwawi gazed towards the west. "We will regroup in a few days time," she told them, "for now, patrol the borders and keep a keen eye. If any seawolf dares shows their face, then call for aid. We will send scouts to the Bay to asses what Tyrr claims... and mark my words, Larus will be recovered." The matriarch turned to leave in the direction of the borders and digest her situation.