The Last Supper

Eris Eternity · 01-06-2012, 07:42 PM

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Hurf. Pretending Eris started talking again before everyone ate. |: I am stupid. Also assuming no one speaks against Janos and Basti's mateship. Lemme know if I needa edit. c: Alsooo assumed Sirius okayed the nommings in next post. Alaine plz don't kill me, but do throw a brick if I need to edit. >_< Sorry about all the awkwardness, my peoples. <3

Eris is by me!

The sable-hued woman frequently wondered if Salsola would fall to ruin if their Boss abandoned them. She thought so. While she strove to be the glue that bound them together, in truth, the Auxiliary merely complemented the bonds between them. Their Boss was the true fibers to hold their pack together, and she thought the pack would fall quickly without one as strong and smart as Sirius Revlis to replace him. None among them were his equal, however, and she had yet to see any with promise for the rank of Protege, though she had been scouting their ranks since they had decided Itachi was no longer fit for such a position of esteem.

Her first instinct, of course, was to consider her own son Pandemic. Young as he was, there was strength in the boy, and he was his father's son -- developing from a large boy into a well-muscled man. But the dark woman knew, despite her own contribution to Pandemic's blood, there was danger in the boy becoming too like his father. If that was the case, fit for Protege he might be, but never a leader would he make. Larkspur, much as she loved him, did not inspire the same vicious loyalty and sharp confidence that Sirius inspired, and she feared the same would become of Pandemic. Still, that her mate and her son were not destined for leadership did not make them worthless, and the dark woman thought she valued them no less for their shortcomings.

The Arbiters served them well in their positions, and the dark-furred hybrid thought Denver might need to do growing of his own before they considered him for a position of such responsibility as the Protege. He was not altogether discountable, however, and the dark-shaded woman filed the once-upon-a-time Miracles hybrid away as such in her mind. Salsola had a dearth of males, and it seemed she might soon have to consider women for the position of Protege, though she did not like the thought. She and Sirius had not decided on precise or hard-line gender roles, but she, personally, had always imagined the Crone as a female position, while the Protege complemented her in his male role. The dark-hued woman supposed it was fine to break such preconceptions, as there was no long-standing traditions they would break by switching the genders of Protege and Crone.

A whisper drew her attention, and the dark woman looked to Bastion, her face drawing taut in dismay as she realized her error. Standing shakily, the coyote cleared her throat and offered a small smile, thankful none of her pack had chosen this time to speak their own news. She still had time to correct her mistake, and she tipped her head slightly, the public apology clear in the gesture. I offer my apologies, for I've forgotten important news. You'll excuse me, won't you, my dears? Your Auxiliary is feeling lightheaded with hunger, she explained, adding a dismissive wave of her hand. In truth, she felt worse than that -- she felt something was desperately wrong with her, and she hoped it did not show too plainly on her face.

Odessa and Magnolia have won their Co-Ranks, as well -- Odessa serves as Curandero, and Magnolia will protect our borders as Vedetto, the coyote explained, then turning toward Bastion. Bastion and Janos shall seal a mateship in the eyes of the pack, the coyote added, gripping at the table to keep her balance. She wished badly to sit again, and it was perhaps only the significance of this news which kept the sable-shaded hybrid on her feet. These were no mere sprats of Salsola; their news was pack news. They have my blessing, she said, pointedly keeping her gaze from Tlantli. The tawny hybrid no longer served as the Crone, and so Eris had no one to confer with regarding her decision.

She did not entertain relations with the same sex, herself, but Janos and Bastion had already proven their union fruitful enough to beget a child for Salsola. What did it matter if this child was not exactly of their loins? The dark-hued hybrid offered a faint smile to her pack, awaiting a challenge from any of her pack. When it did not come, the coyote settled demurely back into her seat, surreptitiously pressing a hand to her stomach beneath the table. She could hardly wait to eat, but the shadowy wolf also wished badly for sleep. Eris thought she might retreat to her den and retire early. There was little need for her to remain for all the festivities of the dinner, after all.

With the speeches truly wrapped up, the coyote did look to Sirius, though two of them swam in her vision. She leaned forward and propped her head against her arm, knowing such a gesture was perhaps wildly casual for their feast, but unable to help herself, lest her face end up in the steaming pile of meat set before her. The dark coyote's ears stood half-mast, and with her Boss's command, the coyote fell to eating, pacing herself as well as she could. Still, the dark woman thought she ate quickly and perhaps too much, for the strangeness in her belly was only partially placated by the heavy meal.

Her plate emptied, the dark woman looked up, finding herself still more exhausted, perhaps by the added effort of digestion. Most of Salsola seemed preoccupied, and so she turned wearily to her beloved leader, feigning a smile and muttering her prepared excuse. It was no lie; she was truly feeling unwell this evening, and she thought it would do her a world of good to retire to her underground den before she ended up making a fool of herself at the Supper. She stood, murmuring a quiet good-bye to those seated closest to her, and walked off as confidently and steadily as she could, mustering all her strength to do so. Molcaxitl waited just beyond the firelight, and the dark woman leaned heavily on her slave-girl, allowing herself a very quiet whimper only when they were well-beyond the noises of eating and faint, proper revelry so characteristic of Salsola.

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