[event] Don't be cautious, don't be kind,

Oh how a sigh slipped, watching her fragile daughter Vermillion continue to wail, and only finally when comfort was given, she settled upon sucking the Queen's paw. Though they were moving, unsteadily, she assumed they could not see either, as often they would continue to bump into all and everything, and the only sanctuary was the smell of recognizing her as their mother. Though the question came to be.. Would they recognize their father?

He was a large man, perhaps just a bit less foul in scent then of previous days, but none truly took a liking to them, except for one. It was obvious that @Maral's coating was nearly exact to his. An obvious inkling that she was his, but the factor was all were half of him. She had not chosen another msn, and placed all her bets on one night, if they would be fruitful or not. If so, destiny would unfold for future heirs to control, and if not, another male to find to be a donor.

But is the current male a true donor? He had not sought her out formally since concerning the litter. To Almight, the half-brother, had even said he held no care for his litters. Célnes did not expect it.. But, she wondered how the man felt.

As he came from the floral fest, she introduced them all, a paw stretching out, and hovering above her youngest daughter, Maral in particular, "They are all from you."

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From a distance he would glance over them all. Scrutinizing each and every one of them from where he sat away in the back of the crowd. The Warlord didn't quite understand his role here during the festivities. He would nor adorn himself with flowers or antlers, finding it to be a silly thing to do - but instead took the time to watch as everyone gathered and separated off into their own little groups to mingle with the other pack.

Célnes' eyes lingered on him long enough to invite a conversation as he left his seat to come near her and the youth they had made. As he grew near the details became clearer. Most were the shades of brown she must have desired except for one, while some were unfortunate enough to have some white staining their coats. What a shame, for her, he thought bemused to himself.
 
“I suppose I am to blame for the unsightly chalky bits?” He didn't care, and his flippant attitude about it was clear in that. They were as much hers as they were his, her curse regardless of who their 'father' was. 

His gaze only lingered on them for a moment before meeting the Queen's once more. Inviting a conversation to come about what would be of this meeting. Was she expecting to keep him away from their raising or did she desire him to be more paws on? Such a topic had not come yet and he supposed now was a good time for it to start.

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"Others say it's for the sins I carry." Though moreso less on what others may speak, but her own thoughts on the matter. Some part of her truly did believe it was but an irony to how many deeds she committed during her time ; all for the sake of a crown she unsteadily holds. Before the land of now though, she didn't have too many qualms with those of the white pelted, only using the words to sway her family around. Though now that belief steadily rose upwards, as she had been sentenced to death by the white elk, and gradually betrayed by those who carried the same. 

Ah, to sin. She should've used the signs as was given, that the white was a foreshadow of possible betrayal. To be warped, to the perfection of trust, she thought had given, Alas, even they fell to the sins of their coat, and betrayed the crown she held dearly to, and thought held them dearly as well. A minor shake of the head as her mind was clouded on the thought of her religions forsaken colors.

"They have taking a liking to the elk that guards them." Her ears flickered, and fiery eyes slowly gazed to @Vaskian who was about. Célnes smiled quietly, assuming the man would find it rather entertaining the seat a man would normally take, is currently be stolen by what others call prey. Yet no wolves could truly take the monarch of the forest up by themselves, at least if they did not desire to be pierced.

"Though they are in name Deorwines.. They are also part Rache." her voice hummed, looking steadily at the warlord.

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Vaskian did not speak, but cavernous eyes spoke volumes where blacked lips fell silent. Lounging in the brush, an obelisk of molten bronze, optics of possessive rage wrapped a chokehold upon his Empress. Here, away from thirsty maws and cursed wolf-speak, the grand elk would bellow; a thick ripple of sound crackling the eerie nothingness that fell between them. Unlike his Queen and far-so the others, the king bore no blood ties with these people. He roamed freely, casting his gaze on new lands, new people, new faiths.

And now, new heathens. Allowing legs to lift himself to the heavens in which he belonged, the hoofed Divine registered his own distaste for the cow patty of a man. Pushing a burst of steam from his nostrils as he sauntered off to settle a few lengths over.

Angry but patient, he reminded himself...

There were children that needed to be cuddled.

 

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The elk's bellow did nothing but rile up the Warlord. Oh how he would love to to hunt the beast down that was being pampered by the Queen and her kin. That big head of his filled with hot hair, pumped by their praises and adoration must have some of the most delicious meat on his tendons after all. Rubies shifted toward the sound, where the branches creaked with the presence of the creature as his lips twitched, excited with the thought of spilling "sacred blood" in front of Célnes once more.

He had hunted and ate their kind before on these lands - and he would certainly do it again if one tested him enough. With a huff he turned his attention back to the King. “I am not opposed to sharing that responsibility.” Casually he stepped in with her "sins". She did not blame him entirely and so things remained relatively well between them. Célnes certainly had her oddities but time after time she proved why the two were a match made in hell. 

Powerful with different sights on the world, but capable to work with another despite their differences. It was impressive. Again she reminded him of Hydra to a certain degree.
 
He couldn't agree that being raised by elk would make the children strong in any way. But he was not here to take them under his own wing and away from the prey that would be a pile of shit if it weren't for the Queen's guard. For now he would keep his mouth shut on how they were raised. They were her hellions after all. “Is that so? Is that an invitation for me to aid in raising them, or are they just another bastard litter of mine?”

Taking her speech of them being both Deorwine and Rache as an invitation to speak of what they would become... he tested the waters to see just how much she wanted him to be a part of their lives.

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Some of the children played with Vaskian and went along toward him while she stayed and talk to Vengeance. Though Célnes can see his wicked, bloodied gaze wander to the man, and she vaguely remembered the time he brutally hunted a pregnant doe. At the time, she could do nothing of so, still weakened without numbers, and only the two of them remained in the forest ; though now, the man knew better then to repeat such offense, and could not hunt within the land. She was rather pleased he continued to respect it.

"They are currently without a fatherly figure, though Vaskian," her fire-lit gaze twisting over to the elk, "has been helping greatly." She wondered if there would be a day that they would call him 'father,' as the true barer is not even part of their land, but a completely different faction altogether. Only, aligned together by usefulness itself, and the possibility of the shared kids.

Gazing back, "do you desire to be in their lives?"

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A wicked grin found its way to his twisted maw. Curling at the ends devilishly so as he was almost delighted at the thought of his brood being raised by something like an elk. Calling something they would rather eat, father. It was hilarious, honestly. If they had any blood of his surely they wouldn't let some future-shit pile be their "father" - then again, Vengeance himself didn't have a figure he would have called father to remember of...

Perhaps that was his problem. What had created the beast called Vengeance - he had no guidance to show him the way, and thus, he had picked his own. Plucked it from the darkness he chose to follow, and created his own little world, his own hell, to thrive in.
 
“Do you wish for me to be?” He said cooly. Obviously okay with or without being a part of their lives, that the decision was Célnes' to decide upon. “I have fathered many, and few I have remained for them to call me anything but a stranger they do not wish to cross. I am not what most would call... a traditional father, but I can be present if you wish for me to be. I can make them strong, individuals who will carve their own paths - but I will not hold their paws and nurse their wounds.”

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"I would not mind a partnership." His offer was tempting, as so she wanted. Though at the moment their life was but softness, she was waiting for the day they would become more.. Mobilized. Célnes saw them as they were, weak. Yet, a part of her couldn't deny she was reluctant to have Remus start any official training, so weak and fragile, she wondered if her children would simply perish, as the Déorwine woman could see Vermillion, simply continued to wallow in tears. Though if the two, that were anything like who they were named after - the sooner they were the better.

"Remus is to be there tutor upon later days. Help build up strength that is lacking, perhaps in some moments, they can be sent to you, to learn more, or likewise, a visit." The Queen so proposed, not denying such ways. She could not remember what a 'traditional' father was, as her own was far more neglecting then to be anything of the name. Only due to simply filial piety does she refer him by so name, but in heart, he held no relation. Now that he was dead, not many times would she remember his name, and his appearance, voice, everything about him, casted to the shadows. He would not be honored within this life.

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[sfont=Benne]A partnership she would call it. So be it. “Then I will be present.” As much as one could be due to the distance between their packs. At least that was a good excuse to use to not be around and as present to neglect his own pack and other whelps who would be coming soon within the pack itself. Those who would be his to command as their father and leader above all else. This was simply another duty to accomplish in the name of the alliance. “As soon as they more mobile, I will visit again.”

Which would be sooner than he would have liked. But if solidifying his place in this alliance meant some more trips away fro his duties to train and imprint himself on children he helped make in another pack... then so be it. He could not see much to complain about as it would only help him and the Nightwalkers in the long run to be "present" as their mother desired. To a certain point. 

It seemed his days of being a complete deadbeat were numbered now that he has his own claim. No longer wandering and disappearing without a word.

“They will be welcome to visit. As soon as they can travel without a guardian, I ask they announce themselves before walking in, however they will be welcomed as a Nightwalker and not a trespasser.” That was after all what they would be by blood after all...[/sfont]

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"When you visit again, they will be properly told." Though today was not the event to call forth who the father was. As most though knew, and be obvious.. Only fools could see who wasn't, for @Maral held his brown tones compared to most. The red eyes and the stance, for all seemed but like a perfect mix between the two temperate rulers. Yet, she had yet to officially say that even if most were to know. It was but an event to celebrate of their life, even if some.. Had put a rather damp onto it days before. She could not hold her mind against them, even if an anger held onto her dark heart.

As the two agreed to a partnership concerning the kids, the remaining time was just enjoying the casual event. Though the man continued to held a brooding expression, she occasionally partake in the feast and ate the occasional boars that was brought around. She would've said the event was successful, and rather nice.

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