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#497
He had been perfectly civil. Awkward, but perfectly civil. The councilman, he knew their family, he knew their seal. Anyone would bow to an Ahote, and Dawali did. The meeting had gone well, as far as Dawali had understood things, Maska would assume leadership, but not alone. And so what should have been the announcement of a simple addition to their ranks became a surprise to all members attending, Dawali included. As Maska brushed ahead of him and addressed his tribe as if it were no longer his to speak to, the red wolf found himself shrinking and cringing under the gaze of the Guardians. Did the female snicker at him? Perhaps. His eyes were fixed on Maska, and as he dropped his first bombshell, Dawali's jaw dropped. He'd lied? Still gaping, but attempting to collect himself, Dawali found that his spine straightened in defiance for every word the sickly male uttered, but quick glances to the Guardians stopped him from rushing forward to stop him from talking. Had Chief Aatu ordered this? He could not believe it, what of Nayati and Liliana's good news when returning from the Great Tribe? The Chief had seemed friendly enough, they'd said. Was he that cunning and cruel? It would appear so, and as Maska stripped his friends - and family, really - of their ranks, his posture, his ears and tail dropped miserably in shame. Gvihita took off from atop his shoulder, just as the final remnant of confidence disappeared from his form.
Finally, the male faced him and sentenced him to the Itawamba rank, waiting pointedly for a reaction. Treason. Dawali, having donned the Ookah's pelt that day, undid its knot and handed it to the closer Guardian, "Shadi". The silence was heavy. He could have sentenced you to death. The word humiliation did not begin to describe how he felt that moment. It was not Maska who was deceitful; Dawali was the deceiver. Dawali had known all along that he could not claim his title; Gvihita had known, Ayegali had known. They had all known but no one had questioned, and here was Maska to unveil his lie. In silence, he began to shift, and was left standing in that unfamiliar form as Maska continued talking, not even bothering to look at the former Chief as he assumed his rank, alone under the eyes of everyone.
He could meet the eyes of no-one, and he would leave the meeting last. He knew this rank, although he had never had it before. There was some relief in his mind that this was not the Great Tribe, for there he would certainly have faced a beating. Here... perhaps not. He would say nothing, and he would do as councilman Ahote bid him, for there was little else he could do but ask forgiveness from the family he had betrayed. He should have known the spirits would never have chosen someone like him to be Chief. He should have known.