Now is not the time to give up hope.

Sky Rhiannon · 12-29-2011, 09:55 PM

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OOC: Shawbutt, it's time to get our acts together. B[

Council. Skye Collins, leader of Cercatori d'Arte, had named the young witch doctor, Sky Rhiannon... council. The guardian ranked variation of such, at that.

It was no longer her job to sing and dance and preform. It was no longer her job to quell the dark emotions in people and celebrate with song.

Now it was her job to protect everything they'd worked so hard to acheive. It was her job alone, now that Taliesin was gone away, to make sure the pack was safe from any more harm.

Except... she had no idea what to do. She wasn't a leader. She wasn't a knight. She was pregnant with pups, for gods' sake! How was she supposed to figure out a cure to the crazies they'd been getting since the pack's creation!?

There was only one thing she could do. She had to suck in her pride and head to the place she'd avoided for so long. The Treetop Terrace.

She had to go see the true founder of d'Arte and the only leader she'd ever respected as such (as it was, Skye was unfortunately not proving herself in her inherited rank very well...); Shawchert Menue.

Her trek there was shadowed by the little bobcat, Fella, who'd refused to leave her side since Taliesin had left a few nights prior. The entire way there, both canine mother and feline child walked in silence. Sky's mind was reeling and Fella had only one task in his trek; protecting his pregnant mother from harm.

Finally the terrace towered overhead. Sky paused to glare at the ropes that acted as ladders and instead of heading up, she stayed below. She knew Orin would be elsewhere, doing pack tasks and the like. She could only hope that Shawchert would be home.

And for the first time in a long time, she howled his beckon. It was a howl meant solely for the man she used to call her mate. The man she once wanted to mother pups for. The leader she'd come to love in the past. Now, she loved him, but the love was that of a sister for a brother, or for best friends. She could only pray that the man, the monster she'd seen nights before, ready to kill for the sake of her unfortunate daughter...

...would be willing to call her a friend, to give her the advice she sought from him, and to help her where she had no one else.

Her song-like voice died away into the winter air and she waited. Fella sat at her feet as she leaned against one of the wide tree trunks, a hand on her stomach and another tucked into her jeans pocket. Well, Fella. Let's hope he's home.

Hm. Came the bobcat's only reply as he watched the area with alert, dangerous eyes and perked ears.

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