Watch your back when you can't watch mine,

@Tavra
some part around here;

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She knew not beyond the temperate lands. In a previous time the Queen was more adventurous, wandering outward in a wonder to what was there. She had that sanctuary, for another was within leadership and could be trusted. Now alone with the crown, she felt leaving ; anything could happen. Especially as there are a few too many enemies lingering around, some being of purely Nightwalkers, and some of her own. Rarely, did she leave her region.

Though today, a thought came to mind. She vaguely remembered beyond the mountains the Winterheart Forest, there was the plains. Reminded vaguely by a previous packmate, she curiously wondered what it looked like. Though her adventure was rather short-term, when Celnes was met with a dead-end of a river. 

She could cross ; but was the time really worth it? For the moment, she simply idly looked across the way.

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While her coveted role in leadership had not given Tavra the satisfaction she'd desired, her loyalty remained with Little Haven. Things had progressed swiftly for Flynn and Meissa, for the swelling of the latter's flanks was unmistakable. Soon their little band of misfits would gain new mouths to feed and, in the Duchess' opinion, they would arrive at the worst possible time.

Summer had come to an end, after all, and soon Winter would be upon them. There was no way of knowing how the cold season would affect prey.

The plains were vast and open, and she couldn't help but feel rather exposed. Elkshire hunters hadn't found them yet, not as far as she was aware, but it was still a possibility. Tavra worried over it in the safety of her own mind, and she couldn't help but wonder if she'd made a mistake in tethering herself to her comrades' claim. It would've been a lot simpler to have struck out on her own again; Célnes was a fool, but a vengeful one? She didn't know. She wasn't sure she wanted to hang around and find out.

She wasn't prepared to die for these idiots.

More often than was appropriate for a leader, the young Mayfair would venture from her home. On that particular morning she picked her way toward the river that served as a barrier between her pack and the deer-worshippers, intent on putting her frustration to good use by fishing. Her plans went to shit, however, at a rather unexpected sight of the elk Queen herself.

Ginger-tipped lobes sprung forward, and her tail arched proudly over slim hindquarters. With the waterway between them she felt emboldened, and did consider yelling something obscene over the sound of the current simply because she could, but she held her tongue. The yearling continued to stare, willing herself to be noticed.


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She sometimes thought about them ; all of them. Not only those of the recent betrayals, but those of the past that had left her. She didn't let them continually plague her mind, for in the end, it was that of life. Many would come and go, just as they did in the past, and just as they did now. Though that didn't mean Célnes wasn't hurt by what had occurred, nor' did the feeling of vengeance completely disappear. She was a spiteful one, petty in that sense that in the end, if she wasn't right, there was a price to pay to make it the right way. Time, would make it like that.

Though a bounty may be on some heads, she did not go forward to those who betrayed. Only two came to mind that truly deserved such a wanted sign, and the rest were just but followers ; who caused no real harm to the Elkshire ways. Just in numbers, she so believed. They were not so foolish to enter the temperates with not only an Elkshire hit upon them, but a Nightwalkers one as well. To send mercenaries? Such a thought came, but without the manpower, she relented such a thought. Then as Célnes settled, she came to terms that was simply.. No need. Would they ever truly cause harm? Most likely not. Though of just troublemakers. Never did she think would they attempt to run a kingdom!

She assumed those who left were somewhere beyond the forests. A surprise look came to Célnes's face when she saw upon a river, a familiar, fiery pelt. Those of an alabsator touch, and that of a personality like a dragon herself.. Tavra, she remembered. Though was only someone of a few days, she then dipped, with the rest.

The Queen held no real anger against her.

"Tavra, pleasant to see you again, how are you?" a smile upon her face, she called out from the distance of the river, as if there was no problem between the two.

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Tavra stared the elk Queen down, resisting the urge to sweep her ears back when at last orange met copper. She maintained a neutral expression, eager to maintain a cool and collected façade; her anger toward Célnes was just, she felt. There were no regrets in leaving Elkshire - she'd turned tail on her own family for a different sort of discrimination. It bothered Tavra, of course, to see the wolfess she'd so wanted to believe in. Frustration rose within her as their silent exchange continued, but she bit it back when at last the quiet was interrupted by false pleasantries.

She scoffed, amused.

“Fucking wonderful,” the dragoness answered simply, a smug expression tugging a corner of her maw upward. Tavra, made fiery by youth and mistreatment through her short life, had no problems using her smart mouth, “missing me?”


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"I cannot deny I don't." She was unphased by such a tough greeting, a look of scorn and so. She wasn't the first wolf to meet like one, and wasn't the last ; she was an easy ready of her personality though, that was for sure. She held a foul-tongue and a smart mouth, quick to hurt others.. To avoid her own pain, perhaps it was so, if she read rightly. Not knowing the others past the Queen could not appropriately say for sure if that was a reason, or simply of her personality whole. She met a mixture of both.

"Didn't get to say goodbye," though melancholy as it sounded, she continued with a warm smile.

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She'd tell herself she didn't care what Célnes thought of her, and on the outside it would seem clear that she was unphased by it. Truthfully, to be seen as a lesser being purely due to the white of her undersides, made her burn with rage. Elkshire had given Tavra a brief taste of what she thought would be security, at least until Flynn and Meissa had shown her the light.

Célnes had not been the wolf she'd hoped her to be - but neither had Little Haven's leadership proven themselves to be any better.

She recalled the King's discussion with the hideous, smart-mouthed witch who'd loitered around their territory - specifically when he mentioned a "common enemy". Tavra had no love for Elkshire's Alphess, but she had no interest in fighting her. As she stared across the water at Célnes, mistrust in her copper eyes, she couldn't help but wonder if Flynn and Andraste might be planning an assault against her.

All she knew was that, if they did, she wanted no part in it.

“Didn't want to see you cry over losing me,” she teased, and rolled a shoulder; Tavra would never apologisefor the decision she'd made.


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"I would hope you didn't join Flynn or Meissa.. Star-crossed lovers, aren't they?" A rolling of the tongue as she continued but a smile of a foxen nature. A toyish tone of neither malice or warmth, but of a mischievous nature, "they're on a few black-lists." Though such as life, actions came with consequences for what had occurred, especially with those who betrayed, and taken many with. To be on that of the kill-list was but a simply destiny they knew they would take on, and left with such actions that occurred. Maybe if friendlier they would've been on better terms, but for now.. The two would remain upon Nightwalkers and Elkshires wanted list, to be caught in death of each others arms.

Ah, though the search wasn't on, they were known. It would simply be foolish to send warriors to that of a unstable King and his mistress. They were only a few simple wolves though, being left at the back of her mind for the meanwhile.

Though that didn't include the rest. For what have they caused to the Queen that deserved so, besides that of leaving? Those who had also left did not make an impact to The Elk's Crown, and she remained in a bliss about their leaving, a neutral glance.. Especially to Tavra, she had already held doubts to join, and Celnes did not hold it against her, even if it was, a shame that she left off with the assumed two.

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She'd liked Little Haven's claim well enough, though more recently she'd taken to roaming further and further beyond their borders. Tavra often wondered if they were sitting ducks in the middle of the plains: morsels ripe for Elkshire and their allies to come pick them off. Flynn was strong and Meissa was brutish, but were they fighters? The Duchess herself was volatile, but without training or experience. She didn't trust Flynn's ugly red-eyed bitch to come running to their aid and although their pack had grown, she hadn't cared enough to get to know any of the newcomers. With the likes of Rosemary who was blind and a youngster who probably still had his baby teeth, her hope for warriors among them were lessened. 

Really, Katavra Mayfair was more mouth than spine.

And she knew that, but her bark had always been worse than her bite. So to hear the Elkshire leader talk of how she and her brethren were marked, fear made the fur of her neck spike. She inhaled sharply, drew her head high and narrowed her sharp gaze. “Is that so?” Tavra scoffed, “you'd have the heads of those who don't roll belly-up to your belief that those of white fur are lesser? You're pathetic.”


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"Oh, did they tell you I think like that?" she mused slightly in that of a chuckle while thinking of so. Perhaps that was the reason that so many left, hearing that the Queen held such colorisms in. She couldn't truly deny that speculation came of pure white pelts, and perhaps some superstitions against white.. But truly so, the Queen never held that of a true disdain toward them, moreso a 'beware of so,' like that of a black cats lore. She couldn't help but smile wider, at thinking they spread that around.

"I'm afraid my cousin is a bit unstable at times, with his.. Moodswings, as you most likely seen," she said faintly, a wave of her paw and remembering faintly how often he switched from giddy, to sad, to a mad man. Truly that of someone who was a bit, "though may be truth that we both come from a home where colors other then brown were looked down.. I did not think so of you or others, and especially not of my own young. My homeland, no longer exists, and many of the culture it brought, too had died off."

She did not lie, her words covered in a sprinkle of sweetness for the whole truth would not be revealed, for what fool would say they held true colorism? She did not think lesser of them, just suspicions of the future they may hold. A hypocrite, through and through many call the Queen, and she would use her own religion as a weapon if saw it needed. To belief was another, for though at times the culture and reign may take over, she was not afraid to use such ways to her advantage, and definitely not when it came to the particular case ; of colorism. It could never be totally erased, but..

There was ways around it, she believes.

The woman would not return.. But she could say what was the truth, and that the so party she joined, wasn't so innocent.

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Ginger ears sprung forward at her assumption, and the fire in her eyes burned bright. “Nah,” she answered, content to leave Meissa and Flynn out of their conversation and. It'd been they who'd alerted her to the Déorwine belief that those of white fur could never be favoured, but it's been Célnes herself who'd confirmed it! Tavra felt a muscle tighten in her jaw as she recalled that conversation, the tension that'd hung over them, and how she'd childishly stormed from the scene following the dark-furred Alphess' attempt at patronising her. “It was obvious how little you valued me when you ranked me as cannon fodder and let me believe I could ever amount to anything more. It was no coincidence that most of your guard were your so-called "sinners".”

Oh, how that'd been painful to realise! She'd spent long weeks considering whether or not she could find a home among Elkshire's forest, and to have made a terrible decision in thinking that she could had been hard on her. All she'd ever wanted was stability, a safe space, wolves she could rely on - the only thing she felt beneath a Déorwine rule had been betrayal. To have been ranked so "highly" yet expected to stand on the front lines, a barrier between the the elk-worshippers and those who might seek to harm them, had been a great insult to her pride.

“I didn't need Flynn or Meissa to tell me you're a psycho,” Tavra called out over the sound of rushing water between them, “'cause you made that perfectly clear - all by yourself!”



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Her head turned to the side just a bit, a look of a confused smile as the other went on, "I had thought that was the rank you wanted, no? A warrior?" What else was suited to such a woman of fury? Perhaps a hunter would've been more of her liking, thought she had thought it was the perfect choice alongside of those like Remus and Meissa. The woman before her did not seem like that of the more soothing of rankings, but more of a physically adored woman, "It was not my intention to make you seem that of fodder."

"It seems a misunderstanding has occurred, though you have no intention to change your mind." Through all her words - in the end Tavra would see her nothing more then that of an evil ruler. A shame to be, for all that may be she thought the other would be a suitable woman to the forest itself, but she scorned it so much that peace - did not seem of an option. With such a fury, Celnes could only shake her head to so, for even all that she said, it was of no more use.

"Are you happy then, to where you currently are?"

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Had she wanted to be a guardian? Absolutely not. All Tavra had ever truly wanted was power - a crown, freedom from anyone's rules but her own. She craved leadership above all else, but knew better than to expect it without support. The Duchess thought she'd found it with Little Haven where she'd lurked beneath Flynn and Meissa's rule, but it simply wasn't enough.

“Whatever,” the russet yearling rolled her eyes at Elkshire's Queen as she talked of what she deemed to be "misunderstanding", but she felt she understood perfectly well. No matter what Célnes said in her own defence of that mistreatment, Katavra Mayfair had long made up her mind. “Why are you so interested?” Tavra asked pointedly when her contentment was questioned, and she had absolutely no intention of sharing her innermost feelings with the elk-worshipping Alphess.


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"A simple wondering if it's the haven you so sought." She chuckled slightly, though the other may not hear, she most likely saw such a notion, "you seem so angry." When she thought of the rule by the two wolves, who obviously would become the leaders if they went toward a back.. She could see the once large guard, of unusual ties to be that of a fitted one. Yet, the other so unstable she could see that of a difficulty that comes from. He caused a display to her own alliance, what was to say if he truly had more?

That is, if they had a pack. She only assumed they were a that of a clause together, and highly doubted that of a true forming group ; completely unaware of the falsity of that reality. But nothing is better then toying with those who betrayed her, to make their followers stray away from. To say such words of unitability, a craze that he held - Celnes wondered if the thought had planted correctly to Tavra, who she gave up moments ago trying to recruit.

"Come visit me some time, Tavra, the woods are open for a chat." The more that was spoke the more that nothing would be gained. Normally so she would enjoy continuing a conversation, enemy or not.. Alas, her woods were a bit too unstable to completely leave behind, especially not with her children at home, most likely wondering where she was.

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