Don't be that way,

@Calliope

She couldn't do much anymore, walking was often difficult, and hunting was a definite no-go. As days would go by, the Queen would either roam between the woodlands, or the forest itself.. She had yet to prepare a nest for when it was time, but oh, she was itching. Her walks consisted of finding the most perfect of dens. Something within the inner sanction of The Elk's Crown, she wanted somewhere within the herd - an ultimate protection with the king of the forest being within as well.

Though she had yet to find it. Instead, she laid upon a patch of grass, where the moonlight shined between the trees. The sky was bright and cloudness, the stars twinkling as the moon was fully round. Bright and beautiful, the galaxy just above their cozy home.. She found peace within the silence.

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Though a wolf's senses were naturally still alive at night, Calliope often preferred navigating through the woods by the light of day, or with ample moonlight. She was still unfamiliar with the area, and the thought of something lurking in the dark to catch her unawares made her anxious. Thankfully tonight the moon was full and bright, casting dim shadows onto the forest floor, its light weaving through the leaves and branches above her head. Although she preferred waking to watch the dawn, her thoughts were keeping her up tonight. She drifted aimlessly between trees, sometimes stopping to investigate a sound or a scent, but otherwise her walk was uninterrupted.

Until she stumbled upon the Queen herself, the royal Célnes as she lie upon a moonlit patch of grass, her rich brown fur shimmering under the silver light. It seems impossible to not stumble upon her sometimes, Calliope thought to herself, as she was reminded of their initial meeting only around a week ago. Though she had not noticed it before, the queen had definitely changed. Growing more plump in the stomach, and more tired as the days went on, as if she were struggling to carry herself sometimes. Calliope thought it rude to mention, though she certainly would like to know the history behind such a regal queen's decision to have children.

A bit childishly she thought to herself, she'd love to play with puppies sometime... though not her own. However, the idea of Célnes having puppies scared her... just the tiniest bit. They had only just met, but Calliope knew she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Um, good evening, your highness," she called out softly, lowering her head respectfully towards the queen.

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"Calliope," the queen smiled softly at the other. The moon shined upon her pale browns, as if the High Elk was blessing her through the moonlit glows. There wasn't too many wolves that bare the ideal Déorwine colors or ways, many held browns or reds that while was near to the liking, many times they bore another color. She could only name a few individuals that held a perfection of so, but none seemed to be interested in the religion she bares. Perhaps slowly, she could induce the other to the customs.. Just so gradually - a perfection to the clan itself.

"Come, share a poem for this wonderful night." Her tail flickered, an invitation to the other to sit beside her so, wallowing in the beauty of the night. As the only Woodweaver within the Elkshire domain, she was curious to hear more of a harmony of words from the other. It was always a lovely past time to hear, a sanctuary without politics or command.. But just a night of calm.

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Calliope inched closer, a little wary of the queen, but accepted her invitation nonetheless. She sat with what she perceived as an acceptable amount of distance between the both of them, but might be a little awkwardly far away. Something about the way the Célnes's eyes passed over her own fur made her nervous. She had heard tales of how white wolves, even partially so, were cursed, but still didn't understand why.

“Under starlight,
idles Her Majesty with eyes of fire.
Finding sanctuary under the branches,
between antlers upon the elk’s crown.”

The poet murmured, yellow eyes cloudy in thought as the words came to her, head turned upwards towards the few shimmering stars she could see between the branches above. Calliope turned once more towards the queen, so curious was she about the wolf beside her, but too cautious to ask any questions.

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"A wonderful poem, Calliope." The Queen praised the other, especially as the poem related to herself. Those who pleased her prideful trait always tended to be more beloved by Célnes, as she adored nothing more then followers. Stemmed from childhood, a jealousy always had brewed between her and the God, her own patron, the High Elk. A competition where she always lost, for those of the Déorwine family, will always think of him before her.

"Tell me, what do you think of this land so far?"

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Calliope pondered the question for a moment, looking at her paws before glancing back up at the queen’s pumpkin orange eyes.
“I suppose I can’t really recall any other land,” she said quietly, “but so far Elkshire has been both pleasant and kind to me. I can’t ask for anything more. Thank you for allowing me to stay here.”

For a moment she considered asking the queen about her puppies, as her eyes glossed over the other’s abdomen, but she chose to say nothing. Partially out of fear, but also she figured it would be an intrusion of privacy.

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Célnes did not know of the fear the other held, and continued to talk naturally to the woodweaver, "Many have forgotten their origins, their family and even once who they were.. The land is strange- many simply wisp in, plain walkers if you well. Unexplained phenomenons." Her paw circled the ground in a humming as she explained so. It wasn't unusual for many not to remember who they were, or even part of the past. Majority of Elkshire wolves knew who they were, yet those who didn't join at times felt amiss, in the unknown.

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Yellow eyes locked upon the other’s paw as she watched her draw circles in the dirt, Calliope considered Queen Célnes’s words.

“A plain walker,” she muttered, lost in thought, “I would not believe it if it wasn’t me. I wonder what that says about my life before.”

Calliope let silence hang in the air for a moment, broken only by the sounds of the forest’s nocturnal life. Moonlight shimmered on the grass before her, and nervously she pawed at it before turning once more to Célnes.

“Your highness, forgive me if this is too far,” she paused for a moment, eyes on the Queen, “what made you..have puppies? Are you not scared they might get…lost..?”

Instant regret washed over her and Calliope almost shrank back into her own fur, wanting to hide from the Queen’s fiery gaze.

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"That is a thought." She didn't see of the others general fear of herself, but rather gave a hum in thought ; not even considering such a moment to come, "we have yet heard of an instance of someone disappearing from this land, only appearing." Many simply appeared like the wind, places that were not meant to rest where then claimed by a wolf in it's place. Forests that had been untouched for centuries by the canine kind.. She knew the elk of The Elk's Crown were not familiar with them.

"I suppose, it would by the High Elk's will."

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"By the will of the High Elk," she repeated quietly. Calliope frowned, for that was not quite the answer she was looking for. The queen's quick dismissal of the subject told her that she wasn't going to get that answer... at least not anytime soon. She really wanted to know why Célnes would give up so much power, remain in her den for so long, to raise a litter of children. The Queen had struck her as power hungry, eager to please the God above her. So why bring in possible heirs to her throne? So young, and so soon?

Unwilling to fight for her answers however, the poet simply accepted it and decided to move on. Though questioning remained in her heart, she felt beholden to the Célnes for such gracious acceptance into Elkshire. Those fiery orange eyes that burned with some... unsated hunger were a constant reminder to Calliope of the Queen's potential, though never having been subjected to it.

"Have you... witnessed the High Elk?" she asked, head tilted to the side curiously. It was an entity everyone here seemed to believe in. Though doubt remained in Calliope's mind, regarding the High Elk, she was slowly getting used to finding both belief and comfort in such a deity. What else could have taken her memories and left her here?

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"Some believe we always see them, through the elk themselves. It is said their antlers are the tools of communication, and thus, are holy relics to any who bare the Déorwine name." Though more or less, she was skeptical on that thought. However it was what she was raised to believe in, that the High Elk would always be watching, through eyes and the tools of those around, any ungulate baring resemblance would be but an apostle, and thus forbidden to hunt them down. Now that the rule was generalized, for the sake of the speaking doe's, she wondered.. How does her patron feel?

"I can't deny others of their wariness on such a belief, but if you were raised in such a way, would you not be the same?"

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    Calliope listened to the Queen's words thoughtfully. She had not been raised on such beliefs, in fact she could hardly say she'd been raised at all, having appeared fully adult with no memory of a past life. A part of her heart sank as she realized she'd never have the connections that Célnes had. To her pack, to her family, to her religion. She couldn't escape the sorrow crossing her expression and she turned her face away from the Queen for a moment. Why me? she asked herself. While the poet would remain skeptical of the High Elk, though as each day passed it was becoming much easier for her to believe. Perhaps a combination of needing something, anything to believe in, and just the fact that she was surrounded by those who did.

Composing herself, but struggling to hide the emotions on her face, Calliope nodded. "Well, I suppose that makes sense. I would like to speak with the High Elk someday, then. Perhaps he could explain to me why I am here."

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"We all wish to speak to He, but very few are the chosen ones. Not even I, have seen." She so confessed, though at times her faith wavered, she asked for the appearance of the High Elk, but was never granted. Some would say they had seen, but others simply mocked at seeing an emperor elk in the flesh. Many say the points are even to the sky, and the antlers simply slip and out of the bark itself. There was once a saying from one elder.. That the trees, were the antlers of the High Elk.

"Perhaps we will never truly know why we are here.. Not even I know, our only hope is to continue surviving." A sympathy gaze to Calliope, for the woman couldn't remember her past, unlike Célnes, who gradually overtime only forgotten bits and pieces - but majority was always to be remembered. A true shame, for the poet o Elkshire, but the hope for a new life to unfold in itself.

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”Continue surviving indeed,” Calliope responded with a sad sigh, “well if you ever get the chance, I hope you’ll invite me along.”

She didn’t want to be hopeless but it seemed she must be so.. there really was no getting her mind back. She could live with it, she supposed, as there was nothing else to do.

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wrap?

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"Surely, i'll call for you." Maybe even ask the patron himself, to allow the woman to become.. A Deorwine as well. She wondered if perhaps to bring back the trials to the land, either making it for newcomers, or soley for those who are wish to be apart of the family. Her tail curled beside in thought, wondering if either was a good choice to do. She could have the risk of not allowing others within the land, some powerful wolves slipping from her paws.. Or make it more exclusive.

It would be pleasant though, if more taken upon her family name. May the High Elk bless the holy, after all.

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