But she won't sing this song

Her expression was dark. Dry, tears unable to fall and only but a heavy-heart to follow. To lose Nikitas, and soon later her own son ; who was young and yet to be graced by the High Elk. He wasn't sinned with white, and he had yet to even grow to even sin in the first place, but the grace of destiny touched him so — and he died. Alone.

The Queen called the pack, "Our waters are poison," she announced, standing on-top of the Queen's Steps, "my son, Seaver, passed away from drinking it," and she paused, choking lightly. Celnes hadn't experienced true heartbreak since her brother had died, but with his memories fading that long feeling of sadness had disappeared.

It was true, she didn't love her second brood as much as she should. But they were from her womb, her actions and a bond that couldn't be erased no matter how she tried, how much she avoided them, for their looks were the sins she had caused. A mistake in time, and the whites that represented so ; an imperfection to the life she sought, despite it being clear of an infamous streak hanging around the temperate.

As a pumpkin look as upon them, some looked nauseous, "some of you seem already ill. Make way to the medic, @Cynefrid and the herbal storage. It might be best at this time to look at anyone who is interested in being a medic, to learn and help during this pandemic." The deer-woman of the Deorwine name was quiet and tended to herself within prayers and her herbs. Yet the only one at the moment to count on, and Celnes urged anyone else to come forth if they desired those lessons.

"Avoid drinking any in the streams. Aim for the mountains, or east. The forests are now empty, the neighbors are gone."

---

@Rohesia @Maral @Melrose @Faust @Selwyn @Weirs @Doc @Teodora @Wapiti @Cynefrid @Corliss @Rahma @Niklaus only tagging those who are currently in Elkshire! Absent: Warwick, Edith, Calhoun, Hawking, Remus

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^^

Having found Seaver, it did little to make the flinch any less severe when Celnes announced the awful fate of the boy. A child who wasn't her child but almost felt as he were had woken her to a different type of grief and she sniffled as she cast her ghostly gaze to where Celnes stood, continuing despite some emotion clogging her own throat. She did care but she had been... incapable of showing it when he had been alive. Would she differ now, with the others? Or would she continue to be guarded with her newest brood? 

Teodora found that in these moments, she missed @Warwick and hoped that he was enjoying himself out on his adventure, knowing that it would break his heart when he returned. The maiden grimaced at the thought of the water, wondering if the poison would take longer on an adult than it had Seaver's little body. Who had not drank from their waters? Surely they all had, given it was their main source of hydration? --

She recoiled at the unsettled feeling in her belly, nervously glancing over to their healer. Teodora would not take her time, not when there might be others before her who knew for sure that they were not well and instead she would look to turn her efforts into seeking some sort of answers for the contamination. Seaver deserved that, at the very least. ^^

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On learning that little Seaver's lifeless body had been discovered by a pack-mate, Maral had struggled to process the news. She was quiet as usual, and immediately withdrew entirely from her family to grieve in peace - and mull guiltily over her last interaction with her little brother. 

She hadn't been kind to him, and the shadow hated herself for it. She loathed that she hadn't been mature enough to care for the youngest Déorwine brood, but more so she felt a simmering anger for their mother's neglect of them. To the Queen she would cast glowering stares as she officiated Elkshire's gathering, searching for pockets of emotion that she doubted could even be true. No, the crack in her voice was surely an act. Célnes had never loved her youngest children, not truly, and now they'd suffered most of all.

There was a discomfort in the pit of her abdomen, but she did not associate it with the consumption of toxic waters. Instead she thought it to be sourness she felt for her rotten family, for the ever-growing bitterness she felt for her mother and siblings alike. Maral lingered, ready for the meeting to conclude so she could be done with the day and seek her favoured solitude.


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Weirs wasn't feeling all that great himself before the news came--he was holding it together, but barely. Dizzy, nauseous.. and all still at the point where he could try to ignore it. He had decent enough times, too, however what his mother shared sent him for an emotional tailspin. The creek-loving boy had dread spear him clean down the middle. This targeted him exactly.

Our waters are poison and worse, even far more world-shattering: Seaver has passed away...

It stung, and the full, horrible magnitude of it had not yet set in. It would hit him harder when there would be now only three of them to congregate together instead of four as it always had been ultimately. Now it was only indignant, sorrowed anger that he brother was gone so soon, so unfairly. He ached, jaws tight, eyes burning as his head spun inside. He bit back a tremble. Not brave Seaver, his brother, littermate.. and one of their more favored of the bastard litter, even. One who stood a chance.

Why him? And from drinking water--something so needed, simple, and basic for survival, he had thought--but look now. None of this should be, he thought sadly. Even as he gradually felt understanding pool at his feet, Weirs did not like any of it--fear, grief, and everything else. The sinking feeling in his gut got worse and his fuzzy stare shot towards his remaining siblings, nervously licking his lips.

What if he was next?

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Célnes' voice sounded urgent, and he was quick to answer her summon with his presence. The news was so much worse than he could've imagined. Though he didn't have ties to the people here like most everyone else, Doc was still disturbed.

Poison in the water? That had to be deliberate, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. But tending to the ill was still a priority, so he projected his voice to say, “I have medical experience, if anyone is of need-- for anything, poison-related or not.” Pausing, he then shifted gears to the mystery at hand.

“Poison in the water at such a scale seems almost certainly deliberate. Is there anyone who would be a suspect? Someone who holds ill-will towards Elkshire?” Doc asked, sweeping his gaze across all present. He'd have to investigate the main water sources later. What could an animal even use to poison water? Their options had to be limited.

This really wasn't his area of expertise, further so due to his... unusual circumstance.

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He hadn’t grown far. The earth here felt… weird. First of many being the creatures which inhabited their lands. Each one did not smell as if they were healthy. Their scents off by a few notches of usual smell. It bothered him. To the point of investigating the area with mild concern and light interest.

Sniffing at the grounds. Soil damp from the weeks rain, an ear fell back at Célines call. Her howl sorrowful and stern. The sound bothered him. Tugging at something in his chest which caused the growing pup to quicken his steps. Paws slapping steadily in each stride until he came across the Queen. Noting the several wolves who’d also come because of her beckoning.

Wapiti said nothing, though. Only listened. He did not know of the name she spoke. But, in regards of the facial expression mirroring those around him, whoever it was was indeed of great importance. Wait. Poisoned water? The news struck him dumbfounded. Who or what would do such a thing to their water source? He’d only drank from rain puddles and the occasional small areas he would come across while venturing out. Never too far from the borders.

All of this deemed to be suspicious. ”My apologize for your lost…” His voice spoke strong. Each passing day deepening the tone lower and harder. ”There has to be an explanation for this. Perhaps, something died in the water. The carcass could have contaminated it over time. I offer to investigate this theory and rid of the problem.”
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seaver was his name, lain at her mother's feet, crumpled like the news of the world; and her mind had to wonder: did the charnel son remind her of her own again? her gaze was sterile. a silent wish trembled in her breast the high elk would find a way to change a woman's mind about you. it could be time she did the same, for the sake of elkshire's prosperity.
 the cygnet had developed a slight cough since drinking from an off-kilter stream that forenoon, and her condition would only ebb into worser symptoms as she would for time refuse help. and she couldn't help but somehow off handedly blame her siblings, who were so far away, away from so much guilt and suffering.

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"I appreciate all the condolences and help that can be given," a nod to Doc, who more then was welcomed to attend to the needy that looked to have health issues. The more doctors to the mix would surely help, especially as she looked at all and wondered who else, drunk from it? Even she was guilty earlier, but felt nothing rumble within her belly. That brought suspicions, some who were sick and others perfectly healthy? Something midday, then over-time?

Even for something that died in the water, rot takes more then half a day. Suspicions was, but that are the furthest of info they held, "Any who wishes to seek information, and finds something to report back."

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