I like the way they all,

She had fleeting thoughts of a guard of sorts.. Especially as someone had already followed her a few times around the neighborhood, she wondered if perhaps creating one would have it's uses. Though in Kingslend, she never had an official guard, but there was always two that stuck closely to her side. She reminisced her brother who while seemingly distant, was still protective over his dearest littermate. Likewise, there was a gray warrior that was often by her side after the fire of the Déorwine Homeland..

She grazed passed one of the purple wisterian tree's, her tail gently sweeping at one of the many long beeds of flowers that touched to the florest floor. A humming sound, as her figure traced through the forest. Though, at the moment, as she wondered through the woodland, there was no one beside her as there once was the past. She had no need for guards, as there was always someone beside her.

Though as now.. The Queen was alone, the thought came to be ; royal guards... Though who to choose was still at large, there wasn't too many warriors that she personally took a liking to. There was one, but he hadn't pledged completely loyalty, and thus, refrained from adding him to the question.

A sigh breathed from Célnes as she realized how little she trusted the wolves in Elkshire - but at the same time, with not knowing them, it was none fault but her own. Troublesome times, as the white flowers fell from the trees.

---

+1 Discovery Points

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 She had fled the hazy meadow and moved onward, cautiously avoiding the thickening stinks of wolf as she moved through the unfamiliar wood. There was a heavy smell of testosterone coming from the north so she had turned southwards, tucking around the edge of a river and avoiding interactions with any wolf who might have been patrolling. Still unnerved from her encounter with the white-furred wolf whose face felt so familiar but not, she was having trouble clearing her mind.

 Then, she found a beautiful forest.

 Her eyes trailed across the trees, their purple flowers - or were they leaves? - drifting gently in the wind that whispered through the forest. It had been a long time since Meissa had seen more than black stone and sand. Even the misted forest and the rest of the regular woodlands she had made her way through... they didn't have anything on this quiet woodland.

 She moved through the area, letting the gentle purple plants brush against her back as she made her way towards the water, where she realized she could see movement further ahead. Across a stream walked a regal looking wolf - brown, she realized with a sigh of relief. She gave a soft bark of greeting though she did not approach, cautious as ever. She took this moment to scan her surroundings, searching out any other potential dangers - wolf or otherwise - that might lurk just beyond those gentle fronds.

---

+1 Discovery Points

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An oddity appeared. It wasn't the size or the coloring that threw her off originally, for the pleasurable reds and browns and the displeasure of whites - but the obvious was shown. An eyebrow was raised as she cocked a firefly eye to the golden feature upon their nose, dangling and moving yet staying so still, like a rock. Yet so clean it was not wolf-made, and in no way could their primitive paws make such a precise marking. What more was strange was even behind a rather interesting concoction of sorts from the High Elk itself..

She held a split tail, and adjourned with ropes.

"You are not from around here."

There was a pleasant smile as she approached, neutrality while holding her head high in a nobility, "though you seem to wander in Elkshire claim."

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 The earth-hued wolf looked at her for what felt like years. Discerning, staring at her oddities - something Meissa had grown used to very, very early on. She had always been the freak, the mutant, the oddity. At least... she felt used to it. It did not feel like it was new, the familiar bitterness sitting at the base of her gut. She pushed it aside, feeling it a very familiar notion to do so.

 Nevertheless, the woman did not immediately show aggression, instead offering a smile and approaching -

 - and stating her claim in no uncertain terms.

 Meissa's ears flicked back apologetically. “Ah, I'm sorry - I was trying to avoid the thick scents up north that I must have missed your boundary markers.” She held her form still - head and tail markedly lower than the woman before her in respect. She held herself as a soldier responding to a foreign dignitary - confident but knowing her place. She would indicate towards the beautiful fronds around them. “Your claim is beautiful - I didn't mean to intrude.”

 She glanced back the way she'd come, unsure if she should excuse herself or remain here to speak with this pack wolf. She was tired, but if she was not welcome here, she would leave.

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The Queen did not comment on the border, keeping her neutral smile while hummed just lightly. It was a work in progress to claim, as the duty mostly came to protect the true land, The Elk's Crown. Priority took case, especially when it came to the herd that roamed that forest, and then the territories around was a rather secondary need, but a goal. As more numbers were needed for Elkshire, slowly too would the expansion settle nicely. Célnes was quite satisfied most respected the weak border, and those who did apologized so. She couldn't blame them after all, "It's quite alright."

"As so the season comes, the white blossoms will turn into fruit. An enrichment for not only us who claim, but the elks who we flourish with." Very soon would the blossoms fall, and apples would start growing in their place, and she could already tell the elk were excited for. When the apples grew too heavy and finally fell from the trees, they would relish in it's sweetness, and at times, when the rotten to the ground.. The enrichment of the liquids would seep out ; causing them to be rather.. Lucid, to say.

She wondered if the trials should be held then.

"We claim the majority of the forest around. Wherever the elk may roam, is where we also take claim."

"I am Célnes Deorwine, Queen of Elkshire, you might you be?"

---

+1 Discovery Points

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 The soldier breathed a sigh of relief as the woman before her accepted the apology gracefully. The lady continued on into what felt like poetry and Meissa listened along, an ear twitching in curiosity. Elk? Flourishing with elk? It was bizarre, but not the strangest thing she felt like she'd even encountered, though she wasn't sure of specifics.

 Having your memories hidden behind the surface of a rough sea was not exactly helpful for knowing specifics.

 If they claimed the majority of the forest, Meissa wondered how far their land truly spread. She hadn't smelled them before, only the scents to the north that she had managed to avoid, and the sour odor of the white man of many names. Again the lady spoke of elk - was there ... The pack's name had elk in it. Something was important about elk to these people.

 Upon hearing the lady was a Queen, of all things, she dipped her head, “I am Meissa... once beta” her brow creased in thought as the words seemed to flicker away. She struggled for a moment before shaking her head apologetically, “of some place. Now... nothing of nowhere, I suppose.”

 Wanderer, nomad. Existential nightmare waiting to happen.

 But her curiosity had piqued. “You mentioned elk three times just now?” She wasn't sure what question she had so she left it hanging, waiting for the Queen before her to explain.

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"Once a Beta always ends up being one again." Though while her own customs never had the name Beta, they did hold names similarly. While her homeland had its own ranks and she tweeked it just a bit, they held something similar. Though at times debated changing the name, but it was a subject at the pack of her mind due to no one having the ability to gain such a rank, much less anything else. As while she enjoys how many came to Elkshire, she found it a shame how inactive their forest felt. It was peaceful - a lil' too peaceful.

"Have I?" a slight chuckle, "we heavily mix with them, even our name honors them so." Elk of the shire, the wolves who cherish the ungulates, and the Queen whose family worships the High Elk. Majority do not follow the same religion, nor' did she expect them to ; only desired to respect the rules that the Déorwine family holds. At the moment, Flynn and Corliss, and Graeme who was an unknown factor, follow the truth to the patron. When Célnes felt more settled, perhaps the trials will begin.

"We live with them and co-exist.. We follow Déorwine customs here." As she sat down, her tail crossed to the front of her paws and continued smiling. Though unholy the other may be.. She was strong looking, a bull, someone that the Queen would enjoy to bring in as a guard.

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 The comment about betas brought Meissa's eyes back to Célnes from where they had wandered to the water flowing between them.

 She was not an overly ambitious woman. She had never desired to rise through the ranks into queendom, even when she had been in love with the queen - a love that never came to fruition. She had risen to her position through hard work and loyalty, never really even expecting the rank improvements. She had... fit in the role, though. It had felt comfortable and good, to have a place in the world and know what she had to do. Once her queen had gone missing, she had felt like a failure - and evidently, the conniving new leaders had agreed and had stripped her of her rank, instead promoting wolves who would be wholly loyal to them instead.

 These memories were blurred, confused in themselves. None of the faces were there, no matter how much she strained to remember them. She sighed softly, finally offering just the slightest of smiles. “Perhaps.” She would be beta again - and a damn good one - if she were given the opportunity, but it would not be a goal in the forefront of her mind.

 The Queen spoke more of the elk and a custom called Déorwine that she had never heard of before. “It is a good name,” she tilted her head in curiosity, “however, I've never heard of the Déorwine customs before. Could you tell me about them?” She wasn't quite sure from the name whether it was a religion or some other sort of customs that weren't tied to religion at all. However, if the queen wished to keep her customs private for those within her kingdom, she wouldn't be offended.

 The twin-tailed wolf thought that so far, this pack sounded nice. She wondered if they had space for more, though she wasn't sure about inviting herself. It felt almost rude, to ask if there was space, but she was indeed intrigued by this people so far.

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Though the woman may hold some unholy, heathenistic traits, she was elegant, a nobility way of speaking that Célnes would assume a black sheep of the Déorwine family - yet knew she was not. The unfamiliarity that was their name and the unusual gold ring she held, Meissa was a stranger. Though strong in looked, and occasional she could see the split-tongue when the other spoke, and alongst with her split tail.. She wouldn't know what the High Elk would say, much less what their customs would forsay. There were times she would wish for a priest of sorts ; an Elkborne, to speak on this matter.

The Queen would make her own judgements, even though white as they are.. Perhaps with forgiveness, she shall be accepted. A devilish smile as she listened to the other, and proceeded to talk moreso of her grand family, "our name in translation is 'friend of the deer,' where we follow the patron, the High Elk ; he with a thousand horns. It is law in this forest we do not hunt them." A warning to her, if she wished to stay in good grace with Célnes, hunting of the ungulates was prohibited. Though that did not follow to goats and likewise, only the deer that roamed these forests. Beauty in nature, and speaking as it goes, there seemed to be something brewing within the heavens.

"Though blessed by him so in colors and grace.. There are some looks that are not as beloved," it brought on a chuckle, an obvious gaze to the whites on her pelt, "but forgiveness and prayer, may one be in his presence once more." Her tail flickered by the side, as then her gaze broke away from the coat color and back to the others eye. Pink in hue ; a flower of a dawn day.

"You seem curious of us, is that perhaps a thought to join then?"

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 Meissa knew nothing of the crimes of her birth or appearance to the lady. Besides the physical strangeness she knew any wolf might look upon her and recognize, she was fairly normal. A tormented life, perhaps, and a current state of mind still battling with itself, but she had none of the strange vices of those she had met recently. Her split tail and the white that lay upon her back was tied to pain, with the reds and browns more tied to a father figure who had become distant in his own pain, isolating himself and accepting his anger as a part of him - though she had never met him in her adulthood to know this.

 Well. Perhaps then she wasn't so normal after all.

 She listened intently to the woman as she spoke of friends of deer and high elks - a god? He with a thousand horns... The woman blinked calmly, fighting the tickle of urge to ask about that title. For, surely, weren't the horns atop elk and deer called antlers? She resisted the urge quietly, figuring that if he had a thousand of them, perhaps they truly were horns, spread across his form and beyond his head. Perhaps she meant prongs, those attachments that could so easily gore into a wolf.

 Nevertheless, she had lived most of her life where the only deer were those of the antelope variety. She nodded to the law of the forest, pondering if the woman meant all deer or only those of the elk variety - it would be safe to avoid both, she figured. Then, what did a pack eat to keep their numbers healthy? Surely rabbits and mice would not fill a belly enough to maintain a pack?

 What she said next confused the mutant, though she took the glance at her pelt not as an indication of the white coat but instead a gaze at her tails. She gave an apologetic smile, introspectively wondering why she did so before deciding it was because the Queen's concern over her strangeness was not outwardly disgustful. There were far too many wolves who had mocked her or avoided her over her oddities, and even a few who had seemed to obsess over them. This woman's attentions to them seemed the most neutral or passive.

 The least likely to bite her.

 Though, if the Queen would expect her to remove her extra tail, she would have to be left disappointed. While foggy memory told her that her tail was tied to misery, she could not part from it. Not only for the emotional loss, but for the physical pain and the change in her balance that would leave her vulnerable for who knew how long. Her tails would remain as they were, even the white one.

 The Queen asked of joining and Meissa gave a small smile. “If you will have me?” She glanced back the way she had come. “So far, I have not found a home since waking. The wolves I have met elsewhere weren't the nicest, especially this strange white man who seemed to obsess over my... differences.” She shuddered, fur rising along her spine before falling. Something about him had felt so very dangerous and she had barely stopped to rest after that meeting. His interest did not seem pure and with the way he reminded her of something in her past that was wrapped in pain... she could not handle it.

---

This was way longer than I meant it to be omg sorry don't feel the need to length match at all!

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The culture that the Déorwine's held were sacred, and dear. Even though some may not always follow their rituals and beliefs - the name itself is something that the family will always claim dearly. They cared more about what colors one may have, then the deformities they were born with. As so was the curse, the fear of offspring containing what should not be held by a Déorwine, and the blame of the parents. Of course, Célnes has also been skeptical about the religion, though belief strong then before ; she wasn't sure what to make of those born with these sins.

It was the conflict of logical and belief - where she knew the children were not of sins, and yet.. All those who bare white, one way or another, without the prayers and beliefs, retribution for what they have, they always seem to cause some sort of disarray. Like a warning that the High Elk gave itself, that those stricken with white, will cause disaster without proper guidance. Those of pure white fur.. Were lost causes - no change to be made for already most had held their sins. Only the young, and those speckled with only patches, seemed to be able to saved from their sinful ways. Her tail flickered in slight anger as she thought of one who betrayed her (though name blurred from memory), and the rest of the irritable whitekins. All to her, was whether they could prove to be forgiven, and destiny to be changed.

"A warrior, and one with history of leadership, is always welcomed into our ranks." With welcome arms did the Queen grace Meissa ; someone who could be shaped and changed from sins she held, or sins that would be so. Under Célnes reign, she will warp to the wolves that she wants.

"Oh?" there was only a few wolves she could think of within Nightwalkers, but none were oddities, more just bloodthirsty savages. Perhaps one more sophisticated then the other, but she would not rid of herself the disgust that would be eternally carried with his hide, "we do not care of such differences here," Célnes shook her head, "all that matters is how the High Elk perceives you, and I, as well. Such a man would not be allowed here."

Nor' would anyone of pure white would be.

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 If the Queen knew of her heritage, would she think any differently of her? Would she pity her, for having a devil of a mother? Would she despise her, claiming that blood rang strong in her, leaving no room for trust? For while reds and browns rang strong in her own form, her mother's coat was nearly pure white, if it weren't for the scars that covered it like a second coat.

 Thankfully, Meissa currently remembered little about her mother except the swirling, confusing emotions of a child abandoned. She had no clue that very wolf roamed these same grounds, though she hadn't come this far south yet.

 The answer came: She was welcome. Her tails waved in a grateful wag and she gave a deep nod of her head. “Thank you.” There were other things she could say - that she would do Elkshire proud, that she would do her best... none of the words fit and so she left them out, instead letting her eyes speak of her gratefulness.

 It had been a long while since she was welcomed anywhere.

 When the Queen spoke of not caring of differences, she blinked once in confusion. If it wasn't her tail, tongue, or accessories... what was it that Celnes had been looking at? She blinked at the woman, then glanced back at where the queen had been looking, rolling through the contextual parts of the conversation. She finally figured it out, when the Queen said that he would not be allowed here. At least, she thought so. Feeling a bit self conscious about her revelation, she pushed it aside for another day.

 If she were welcome in Elkshire, evidently whatever was flawed about her wasn't enough to damn her.

 “He claimed a number of names but I don't think a pack. Abaddon, Ghoul, Ghost-snake, Draven, Alastor.” This was not naming him as a target - she bore no active ill will towards the man who had given her weird vibes. Yet, she wanted to make it clear from the start that if the Queen did come across him and somehow decided she liked him, that Meissa would be uncomfortable with his presence. Perhaps, given time, he would have made himself more of a friend... but she was nervous of men's intentions.

 “It is a true relief to hear he would not be allowed.”

 The mutant lady considered all the questions that now came through her mind. She considered which would be most prudent so early and which answers would come with time. “What should I know, being a newcomer here? Beyond the laws you mentioned already.” Meissa would allow Célnes to decide what she should know at this early stage.

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"Welcome to Elkshire." Flawed or not, she can throw away the measly pride that stemmed from the Déorwine family if it meant gaining a prowess from this bull. A pleased smile was brought to her face as the other officially joined, and she already knew the role that one would take. A warrior of so, though for the wolves of Elkshire - they were named as Bearbucks. Suitable for someone of her mass, as most warriors tended to be on the heavier size. At the moment, only Remus held the official title. She was content with more joining the rank.

"We will keep an on him and warn the others... There is another we have been wary about, a woman of black and white stripes, with electric blue eyes. Our list seems to be growing," while a chuckle was brought forth it was not a pleasant one as her eyes narrowed. While enemies itself had not been an issue so far, there had been a few wolves that have been trouble. Her mind momentarily drifted toward the child that came from another realm, and assumed The Elk's Crown was her own territory. She didn't put a 'bounty' on the plain walkers head, but knew the others apparent wrath and pride would be a nuisance if she were return. The Queen simply looked out on her own time, wondering if she would re-appear.

"Our strictest rule is elk are not to be hunted, the only exception is if you see a pure white one." Her smile dropped for a moment thinking about the deer prince that they came across weeks ago. In all honesty there was a part of her that still wished to put a bounty on his head, though he also held a half black coat that evened out the sins he carried, or will soon commit. She couldn't exactly figure out how to deal with him, especially since it spoke as well.. At the moment, she held neutrality.

A smile reached back up, "we hunt boars, goats near the mountain and small prey with occasional fish."

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 She dipped her head in both reverence and thanks, exhaling a deep breath that she didn't realize she'd been holding.

 She had a home again. After how long? It felt like years, but could have been days, or weeks. Time... fragmented under the wave of her mind-fog and she swallowed. Her head resumed its original angle and she met the queen's golden gaze again, accepting of any rank that the queen might declare for her. Though, of course, it would be better if she knew it out loud. “What is the name for the rank I will be?” After all, many packs had different terms for the rank their newcomers were and she wanted to be prepared once she met others in the pack. “Also, what will be my duties?”

 "Hi I'm Meissa and I don't know what I am because I'm a dumbfuck who didn't think to ask."

 Nah.

 She nodded in thanks again at the statement about the white man, relief again tingling her toes. He might very well have just been a strange man with eccentric tastes, but something struck her as very wrong and she was glad to have someone backing the worries. She listened to the warning of the woman, humming thoughtfully. Meissa would offer a nod and a slight shrug at that - she had not come across this woman but she would keep it in mind for if she did ever meet her. What had this striped woman done wrong to have a pack wary of her? Something as simple as an uncomfortable meeting and words of worry?

 Pure white. Ah, so her thought before felt like it fit more. She noticed the queen's smile drop and she tilted her head, wondering but not asking. She could not help the fur along her back or her paws, nor the splashes on her face. They were parts of her that could not be removed, even if they spread onto an appendage that could very well be removed. She hoped that their dislike for the colour would not cause her to be disfigured in such a way. “Understood.” No elk, got it.

 Now what?

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"You seem like a warrior, we call them Bearbucks." She wasn't expecting the woman to already ask for her rank, and was moreso expecting her to settle down, as most would do. It was a pleasant exchange, which Célnes's thoughts on Meissa continued to rise, "as peace has been here since we've been made, the usual of what a wolf would do ; hunt, patrol, mingle with each other." Her smile widened as she mentioned so, assuring the other there was no 'grand task' to be made if the other even thought of so.

To do what a wolf normally does - live and be themself. She only would hope that did not include betrayal.

"There are quite a few within, many who hold anomalies such as yourself," The Queen mentioned as she thought of the chimera @Florence, "we even have a deer amongst our ranks who speaks in wolf." That itself, could throw the group into a somewhat oddity, and a suspicion of who they were. With many carrying strange traits.. Well, the Déorwine in general never cared too much on physical traits that are seen, nor' the beginning of talking elk, but moreso will always fair to the colors they may choose.

"We have a underground grotto as a community den - though you are always welcome to choose to sleep elsewhere." She wouldn't mention that previously it was used as a jail of sorts, but nights, she did find herself sleeping within it's blanket of moss. Cozy as it was, and lukewarm to the area, it wasn't pleasant for summer times, but during the colder seasons she knew would be well received. Like a blanket, cozy and lush.

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 With her bulk and history, she figured it was as good a rank as any.

 Hunt. Patrol. Mingle.

 She supposed she could do that, though it felt a bit hollow. She did not enjoy fighting, per se, but she wondered if the warrior part of her job would ever come to fruition. Would there be a time when she could shine?

 A deer that spoke wolf? She blinked, tilting her head in curiosity. Eventually, she was sure she would meet this deer, but intrigue filled her. What kind of life did a deer have? What sorts of customs or beliefs did deer have? Did they differ greatly from wolves or did they have similarities, near origins...

 And how did a deer learn to speak with wolves?

 “Sounds cozy,” Meissa said with a smile. Her smile fell into a more formal, serious look as she straightened herself and considered her role again. “I will do my best. Thank you for this opportunity.”

 The time for learning about her new home by experience had come.

 She would prove those who had abandoned her wrong.

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It was.. An oddity within Elkshire, or the land even. The abundancy of talking prey started to appear, and thus had to ban the hunt of them. While not a prophet itself, the Deorwine Queen felt in some way it was sign from the High Elk itself, that he given the blessing to truly mingle likewise. It did not settle right to hunt any that had the chance to learn of their wolfspeak, and intertwine within the Elkshire land. Though it seems the intention of another herd occurred, that did not have that so. A shame, the group that was not the center of The King's Crown would seemingly have nothing to do with her ; so Célnes assumed, as she did not know where they were.

She smiled at the other, rising to her feet, and like so, her paw ventured toward the inner depths of the territory, an invitation to Meissa. Beneath the wisterian trees that hung low, the entrance marked in itself on a grand opening between them all. A beauty of purple and white that shined to them both, and a welcoming breeze that drafted the petals to their view.

---

fade?

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+1 Discovery Points

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