They all gathered quickly, none of them straying too far, all of them sobered from the chaotic afternoon. Jacquez's dark eyes lingered on Ruri, feeling a shade of guilt that she had been lost in the shuffle. She had familiarized herself with the beach, both by touch and by scent, but it was unkind to leave her behind both ways, coming and going. He let his gaze wander from her slight frame to each separate member of their ragged band. Firefly, putting on a brave face, but shaken by the notion of losing her friend. Leroy, busying himself to avoid the pain seeing of his memoryless mate. Haven, chilled by the firsthand experience of real violence. Svara, teetering on her weak legs, clinging to the deer pelt as they all filed into her chamber. It was not the bold and glorious beginning he had planned, but Lady Luck had always been a fickle mistress. He had known that long before his handsome ship had been dashed on the rocks, his crewmates scattered and lost. He had known from the beginning that he had no natural forces on his side - why else would he have an arm taken from him, before he could even remember how it happened? One could not dwell on petty things such as luck. One simply had to survive.

"Mes amis," he began, rich voice filling the room. "What happened today should be seen as a wakeup call. As lone wolves, as strays, we are the dregs of society. Those in packs will look down upon us, attack us, even kill us for trespassing. But we will not stand for it any longer." The collie-hybrid paced slowly in the small room, one arm tucked behind his back, the words to his impromptu speech arranging themselves in his mind moments before he spoke. "We spoke of building our own pack, a place for those unwanted and malcontent to gather safely, to lick their wounds and draw solace in the fact that they are not alone any longer. And you, my faithful five, have pledged your allegiances to me, your trust that I will always keep your best interests in mind." He paused for effect, whirling on his heel to face them. His proud plumed tail waved slowly behind him, matching the tempo of the patriotic music he could hear playing in his mind. If only they had a flag, to hoist behind him...

"It is no longer in your best interests to remain loners! We must form our pack now, tonight! Svara Thames nearly died today because she was alone. It was nothing short of a miracle that she survived the wounds as well as she did. We are all miracles, surviving the great losses that life has taken from us. Some are physical -" He waved his claws as a gesture towards his empty shoulder socket, toward Ruri's clouded eyes, toward Svara's mangled tail, -"And some are emotional." He nodded towards Haven, and then Leroy, and then Firefly. "But we all survived. And we will continue to survive! No matter who wants to hurt us, to cut our hearts open, to wish we were dead! Because we, the first and founding members of the Cour des Miracles, the Street of Miracles, do not submit so easily to the demands of others. We are a den of solitude, where we can scoff at the rules that others play by, and act on our impulses without repercussion. We are all of the same race - the race that looks for one another, where loyalty is our greatest asset. As long as we have each other, we will never fall!"

As each of them around the room voiced their acceptance, their loyalties, Jacquez's smile grew from ear to ear.

"Marquis Leroy," he said smoothly, nodding to the husky's determined rose-tinted gaze. They were the tallest in the room, the strongest with tooth and nail. If Leroy trusted him enough to fight for his cause, then they would have no problems in the future. "Your loyalty means everything; your skills as a hunter and a fighter will be put to good use. Thank you." He flashed his fangs in a quick grin, pleased that he had been the first canine to accept the name of their kingdom.

"Our Majordomo," he announced, his tone taking a more lofty edge as he met the youth's brilliant jade eyes, seeing the newfound resolve and purpose behind them. Now, now he was ready. Smiling, he voiced a simple, booming command: "Kneel." The sinuous Optime paced across the small room, drawing himself to his full height before the burnt-orange hybrid. "You have sworn to defend to your uttermost the weak, the orphan, the widow and the oppressed; you will be courteous, and women should receive your speciale care... By the divine rights vested in me as your King, I hereby dub thee Sir Haven Aatte, Knight of our Royal Court. Rise, Sir Haven!" He tapped Haven's shoulder with the flat of his hand, completing the rite of passage. It had taken him some time to find the words he wanted to say - his first official knighting, how exhilarating! - but now it was real for Haven, his childhood dream reaching fruition. How the Knight would use his rank was up to him, but if the title would help him rise above the stigma of his father, then all had gone perfectly.

"Duchess Aceline... My Ruri... You have deserved royalty for the longest time, for your brave spirit and boundless kindness. All of us, your newest family, can use your uplifting presence in these dark ages. Please remain with us, so that we may continue to smile..." Jac grasped her hand within his, squeezing it reassuringly. She was adapting to this new life much faster than he had anticipated, and he was proud of his little sidekick. It was normally hard for the delicate girl to trust strangers, since she could not see them and had to grow accustomed to their scents, their voices, their idiosyncrasies. It was probably a bigger step for her than for most of them, although they all had their highly valid reasons. He could be proud of all of them.

"Sweet Firefly, you are correct," he admitted easily, happiness sparkling in his dark fathomless eyes. "I must thank all of you for your trust. It cannot be easy to pledge your lives to another, one whom most of you barely know or remember. To try and make you all more comfortable, I have decided to take a vice-captain of sorts - a second leader, to keep our kingdom running smoothly. She is one of us familiar with the lands and the ways of wolves, and being granted the title of 'Constable' will guarantee her continued safety from instigators in other packs. She is our own Svara..." The lean collie stepped to her bed, pale fingers brushing beneath her chin, tilting her weary face to meet his gaze. She needed rest, as exhaustion was claiming her wounded body. But the idea had come to him that day, as they all scurried about like panicked ants in the sand. No matter how abrasive her real personality could be, no foreign wolf would knowingly attack a pack leader. "Your mind will return to us, o yellow-eyed healer. We'll all need your medical expertise. And you have many years ahead of you, to get used to bossing others around." He winked, letting her sink back into her bed. Being in charge might be the stimulus she needed for her true persona to resurface. Only if time passed and she did not show signs of returning, if this was a permanent trauma, only then would he consider revoking the power. He needed the firebrand, not the ashes left behind.

Now he had them all the way he wanted them. They were nobles and comrades, with every reason to defend their kingdom and bring in more recruits. This place was the only place they could find true freedom - not in the rigid structures of wolf packs, and not struggling to survive on one's own. Here they could be lazy and get fat on the riches of the land, they could fight out their disputes instead of relying on corrupt laws, and they could enjoy every vice that do-gooders frowned upon. Sure, they might need some guidelines; they were not criminals, but there was nothing wrong with a little gambling, a lot of drinking, and the occasional bed-warmer, was there?

"We will feast! Leroy has brought us a deer; we can build a bonfire on the sands, eat, drink, and be merry! Ruri, sing us a song? Firefly, stay a little while - you'll need some drink in your belly before you can mark the borders." His fangs flashed in an excited laugh, as he ducked through the doorway to the main room, leaning down to scoop up a stash of bottles he had moved there earlier. It was thanks to Haven that he had found the dive bar in Halifax, but he had returned there several times since then, both to indulge his whims and to carry off some of the drinks for this very occasion. With such a heavy drinker around, the resources left behind by the humans would dwindle quickly. At least he was charismatic; in the length of several minutes, he had brightened everyone's spirits enough to celebrate, rather than sit about in the gloom of twilight and think morbid thoughts.