Living or dying first,

Granted, while she had gotten what she had wanted, it wasn't the most.. Pleasant experience. Even if the man would bathe, it would not remove the scent of rot and death clinging to his pelt, and she simply felt dirty after it had happened. Though an alliance may strengthen, the Queen knew within her heart she would not give a second chance for him to sire another of her litters. She saw this as a one-time moment, a first litter within Elkshire, and numbers to strengthen the land they claim.

Though of course, as she came back the next day, Célnes came back the next day - the scent would not simply disappear, no matter how much she bathed within the stream, or rubbed her pelt against the scented flowers. Almost like she was being welcomed, the once Royal Wisterian Woodland which clung in purple-hues and white flowers, now were a stark red, a congratiory welcome hue as the apples clung to the trees in a sour tone, and the red petals fell to her path. A royal carpet for the Queen and her hope of siring the Princess's and Prince's to their elk-loving group ; but she wouldn't be certain for a few days if the 'union' harvested its fruit.

Though as she had begun her heart, it still hadn't vanished. The attempt to hide what has happened, and what was happening was perhaps a rather vain attempt - but nontheless, she would continue rubbing her hide upon the hanging branches of the wisterian red flowers. To immense herself in the scent.. Célnes wasn't embarassed what had happened, and would soon announce what would occur if she was successful, but moreso simply felt ashamed to the smell that clung to her pelt. Death itself ; not of Elkshire but of Nightwalker.

Though as she seen to be immensing herself within the flowers of the woodlands, she would need to acquire a few guards for her remaining days. She would hope to bare a mixture of a litter, and a hues that were not favorable to the Deorwine name.. Vengeance origins may be unknown, but he himself, was the luxury of the beloved brown.

Perhaps she should call for @Meissa, and @Remus.

---

+2 discovery points

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 She hadn't seen her new Queen yet today. Nevertheless, she was steadily working, paws taking her beyond the homey Grotto to the woods beyond. Her paws took her into the Royal Wisterian Woodland, where she had first come across the pack that she now called her home. Somehow, since her approach, the colours of the land had changed. From once when there were purple hued leaves, they were now red and bore fruit.

 Even before the sun had risen, she was on the move, moving through the land that was not quite so marked as it should have been. She had come here without smelling the pack within and so it was her decision to move through it, marking it with body and liquid as she went. If she could help it, there would be far fewer strangers loping into their land without knowing that it was claimed. This would protect the deer within, and the elk also.

 Meissa spotted the moving shape, shifting alongside trees and doing what appeared to be the same thing she was.

 However, as she approached and her nose caught wind of the difference, she realized that she was mistaken. What her Queen seemed to be doing appeared to be the exact opposite of her own task. While she had been marking the trees with her growing pack scent, putting the scent onto the trees, she figured that the Queen must have been trying to take the scent off and onto herself. The new Bearbuck sniffed the air around them. While the unfamiliar scent hung heavy, it appeared to be somewhat faded, so she didn't believe that the cause was nearby.

 Had the queen rolled in something rotten?

 She would approach cautiously, nose twitching with her inhalations as she stretched out her neck towards the Queen. “My queen,” she murmured, “Do you need assistance?” The first thought on her mind was to press herself against the Queen - though she would not do it without being asked - to apply her own new scent to the woman's in effort to rid her Queen of whatever that foul odor was.

 Another musky odor hit her nose and all the wheels came sliding into place. She understood now but it did not stop her from wanting to cover the Queen in the odor of Elkshire once again. In fact, it made her wish to share scents even more. Cover up the odor of the outsider and replace it with Home.

---

+2 discovery points

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Remus entered the scene to see this: The queen and her new servant, attempting to cover some sort of corruption.  At first glance the Celenes and Meissa would appear to be involved in a form of sensuality or affection.  Remus hadn't spoken to Meissa before, in-fact he had hardly spoken to Celenes.  

Remus stood there in the open only momentarily. It didn't look like any of his business, his duty was to guard the queen, not interfere with her personal affairs.  Then it hit him, the scent of the warlord.  The guard knew it without a doubt, for he had spent time under the command of @Vengeance  in his unwashed hoard. 

Looking at the duo, Remus squinted his eyes.  "Barbari!", he stated simply, the word slipping out.  At that moment, he knew his employer's secret.
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As beautiful as they may be, no scent would be hidden. Red leaves drawn onto her fur, stickily clinging to her pelt as Célnes had rubbed tiresly against them, but to no avail. There was a sickly sweet smile, a thorn within her side as the two guards arrived, and their noses seem to twitch as the spellbound smell. The rotten man would seemingly never leave her side again, and for some that was preferable, she longed for the scent of her own kind then of the Nightwalkers. There was a glance toward Remus in particular, a glare that was a rather 'be quiet' order.

The Queen moved forward, her pelt attempting to slide against Meissa who had now long had held the smell of Elkshire. The familiarity of her pelt and the whiff of the woodlands held firm, a slight itch to the elk that roamed, and the moss that clung to the rocks. She wanted to swap scents ; no, to rid of what had been gained. Though by obvious as now the fumes of the yearly was due, the others would most likely have smell what either, has been done, or yet hasn't. She thought at most had covered the deed, yet alas, the scent of Vengeance would never seem to leave.

"I would like you two to make sure no males be near me for the next few days. No strays to be around." Voice in tension as she desired neither strangers to enter, or even the own packmates. Meissa could keep Remus at bay - but never saw the man as someone to give into his indulges, but she couldn't say the same for any other male that held in Elkshire. So she would trust the gentlemen to be safe, but even then, it was for her own comfort. Célnes did not want to see the rest, as she would barricade herself for the next few days, letting the heat pass.

If successful, in a few weeks signs should show.

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 The scent was clear as day and the desire to be rid of it also. Meissa stilled herself momentarily as she allowed her queen to decide on what to do, noting silently the glare sent towards Remus. The heat on the queen was as evident as day and Meissa was thankful that it was not something that was catching: While pups were adorable, she did not want to have to deal with all that came with them, at least not her own.

 If the paired scents told anything, it was that there would likely be a litter in due time to dote upon.

 Celnes came towards her and Meissa met her, rubbing against the queen and diluting the stink of the unknown man. She realized slowly that the scent was slightly familiar. It had hung in the air along with the stink of testosterone along the territories to the north that she avoided after her encounter with Abaddon. Still, she knew none of those wolves and could not place the specifics, even as some of his scent was transferred to her. She leaned, running the side of her neck and her throat across her queen's back - where the stink was more readily apparent than elsewhere.

 “Understood,” she replied to the order, though glanced at Remus. It was as clear as day that he was male, after all... but she supposed that the warning glances were enough for now. If he tried to give into the hormones that tickled her nose, the new Bearbuck could keep her elder under control.

 At whatever point the Queen seemed to shift away from her, she would step back and give her space, deciding that for now, the scent appeared masked. If Remus did decide to join in on the scent-laying, she would of course be at the ready to shove him away if his intentions seemed to waver.

 If the litter did set, there would be time to make preparations. While she had never had pups of her own, she had witnessed pregnancies and knew the general timeframe they were looking at. She wondered, if the litter did not set, when Celnes would try again... and if she would try again with the same male, rotten odor nonwithstanding. She would bare no questions to the woman, knowing well enough that it was a private matter that didn't concern her. If a father appeared in the future to try to claim the pups, they could handle him, she was sure.

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At once the guard caught the glare of the queen.  He knew what she wanted, she wouldn't have an attack to her ego. Remus knew the kind.  Deep down he was disgusted, not just at the queen, but with the nature of power itself and the foul maggots who would cling to it. Worse yet, those who would be complacent in it, beings like himself. 

Not a glint of his thoughts would shine through to his eyes.  He knew better, his thoughts where private and none would know his distain.  His face remained stone like as ever. 

However, in response to Meissa's warning glance, he could not help but let through a hint of distain. Curling his lip ever so slightly.  He hated her; perhaps it was because she was not unlike himself. 

He would not take part in covering that maggot's scent.  However he had an agreement, and so he would guard the perimeter of this unholy scene.   Remus nodded his head in compliance, turning to walk away calmly.
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She knew after the one instance, there wouldn't be another. The humiliation the Queen felt would top any priority that came to producing not only numbers, but loyalists to herself. The smell itself and the look that Remus gave irritated her so, the smile she always put on fell flat, a blank, storming look as she was rather pressed to swap scents with Meissa. Only upon satisfaction did she finally step away, but the more she looked at the gladiator, the more dirty Célnes felt. What was worse he only gave her a solemn stare, she didn't deduct judgement or any other, and it made irked her even more.

She turned away from the two, tail swishing in a clear irritation. After a calming sigh, and paws grazing claws to the earth, a smile plastered on. Though highly fake in looks, nonetheless as per' her usual attire, she strode away. Assuming one of them would at least follow, the Queen was on the search for a den to spend days of solitude within. As many burrows seem to flock to The Elk's Crown from previous occupants of foxes, rabbits and the like, there was of no issue. As much though she would enjoy the soft blanket in the Exalted Grotto ; Célnes did not want to see anyone.

Only when she found a den beneath a tree, a hollow hole, did the Queen of the Elk slide within, curling up, and preparing for the next few days..

(Célnes will remain within until her cycle is over on 6/5)

---

last for me!

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 Whether Remus saw her glances as warning or otherwise, Meissa had no intentions of causing ill will - though it appeared her intentions meant nothing as he lifted his lip at her. She blinked at him coolly, turning back to her queen with a quick exhale. If the male wanted to be jealous and vindictive under his cold and silent demeanor, so be it. She was not here to make friends with every wolf and dance around anyone's feelings - she was here to follow orders.

 The queen's own slip of composure was just caught and the brute pondered it for a moment, pink eyes following after the brown queen.

 Oh well.

 She looked to Remus again, giving him a silent nod before turning to follow the Queen. She was determined to be at the queen's side for the next few days, whether it was hanging back in the background or following at her heel. When Celnes found a den and curled up within it, Meissa would turn and find a place in the flat area near the entrance, pulling an old branch from the brush to gnaw on, though she remained vigilant as ever.

---

last!

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