One by one by one,

The forest that Elkshire claimed was quite big, and while the attempt to mark it all was there, in the end it was vain with their numbers. Though weaker, the inside was strong and full of their scent. The main herd had been circled, and no one could truly enter further without their presence being announced. The factor alone settled within the Queen and didn't worry too much on the matter, she held confidence to confront and trespassers. Furthermore there was now numbers to the presence, and she did not have to hover the border as much as she did before. So little, yet so many to truly be helpful. 

But now it seemed almost routine, to hover what was less protected. Surprisingly so she was rather territorial, what was Celnes's could be no one elses, she didn't like the thought of someone crossing. In general it was like a road to wonderland, as the entrance to reach their secluded home, was quite grand. As she approached, she could see the spectacle of the blooming flowers in view. The magnificent purples, and surprisingly, there was many tree's she saw in the distance that were coated with smaller, white flowers.

"Apple trees?" The Déorwine muttered out loud to the thought.

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Exposition! — In the days past since her awakening within the woodland kingdom, Ellinor took to collecting herself. A piecemeal of events that, truly, bore no connection to one another. The only feasible link was her departure from her long-standing position within the coalition of northern territories, but there were no threats of retaliation; no tension to speak of; no bad blood to consider. Was it poison, then? No, surely not. Befouled, and cursed magics, most like. The sort that would require more than her basal book-learned understanding of rudimentary concepts. She needed to merely wait for Dieter, and her friends, to break the binds chaining her mind to this realm. Faith she possessed in droves.

Ellinor trod ponderously toward the edge of the territory, following the sweet notes of spring flora and that of the Queen. Now that she did not wobble like a newborn foal she could be of use, and make good on her oath. The farther from the heart of the Elk's Crown she paced, the lighter, and more colorful the woodland became. Swaths of purple, and pale white, freckled the spaces between the towering pines until those, too, began to retreat as she emerged from the grand forest and into the enchanting gateway nestled against the mountain heights. Her eyes widened as she drank greedily of the sights, awestruck by the potent beauty of nature. The wisteria reminded her of icicles hanging from the eaves, though softer, and decadent. She recognized the apple trees—a favored crop of northern lowland farmers. It evoked a twinge of longing, but comfort too. 

She was so captivated by the magic of the woodland that she hadn't realized how near she drew to Celnes until she circled one of the trees and came within four strides of the royal wolf. Ellinor startled, rocking back on her haunches so she was nearly seated, ears splaying as she untangled her tongue. "Queen Celnes, my apologies! I wasn't looking where I was going," she stated, sounding brighter, and more lively than when the Queen had first found her.

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"Be at ease." While pleased with the formalties placed, the Queen didn't emphasize too hard on it. Respect was something to always be adored, but she did want fear from her own allies. It would be a fool's game to continually have them do so, but from those around their forest, it was to be expected, and desired. Vengeance had achieved so, the loyalty he had gained from his members and the fear brought from around ; the boogeyman in his wicked forest. 

Though Célnes of blue-blood, stood tall with always a smile, not a scare in sight, and only formalities. She did wonder how outsiders viewed her.

Her paw toyed with a small, fallen flower that was onto the ground. Around was the beauty of the bright unusual colors mixed with the holiness that came with white - an irony coming from a Déorwine itself. Though they saw white on wolves as a disholy abomination, the family in particular didn't have a distaste in the color itself, just who bore it. A way to say one fell from the grace of the High Elk ; but the color itself was a beauty to behold when not associated with a wolf itself. She admired the flowers that soon, would bloom into apples.

Surrounded by the wisteria of purple, she passed over the fallen white flower, a graze to a purple petal, and a soft smile to the other, "You seem to be doing well."

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