08-27-2012, 05:25 PM
(WC 771)
When the call came Orin was in the barn where Soraya, her faithful brown bovine friend, was kept, tending to the cow in the very lackluster fashion that had been Orin’s regular demeanor since the death of Misha and Vladmir. She knew her only surviving daughter, Svetlana, was safe with Mars back at home. These days, Orin rarely left their home except to tend to necessary chores, like tending after some of the stock that had come with her from d’Arte.
When the call came it bellowed over the valley and through the open barn door. Mechanical movements stopped and for once Orin lifted her head with something other than a blank stare upon her mien. Curiosity. This was curiosity. What was this call? And, who was it? She was so out of touch with reality that she barely knew what was going on with her pack right now.
But one thing was to be certain, the call demanded a response. A response in person. So she set down the shovel and wiped her hands off. Thankfully she had just started so she wouldn’t be covered with dung at the meeting.
Though there was importance behind the summons, Orin walked. It was not that she meant to disrespect the pack, but she still could not find the energy or will to run. Running was a thing the wolf did when it was free, spirited. There was no light in her right now. Her first stop was their house, though she assumed (and was correct) that Mars had already gone. She found Svetlana waiting for her there.
When she finally found the meeting place, the amphitheater, most of the pack had collected. She saw Silvano perched upon the stage ready to give his speech, and knew Mars was already there because she saw Vox mulling about outside of the congregation. Her eyes scanned the crowd and she soon found the piebald man standing in the back with his arms crossed, so she made her way over to Mars and strategically placed herself between Krystalle and her love.
Orin looked as weathered as she felt. Her ivory pelt held none of its traditional sheen and she pink and yellow dye in her fur had faded to a pitiful echo of what it once had been. Her eyes looked tired, and there was none of her old bounce in her step. The eyes that looked at Silvano were dull as they awaited his speech… and then it came.
Her ears dropped back as he spoke, when she realized what this announcement meant. He was the new Constable. Vigilante had been constable during her first stint in the pack… before Jaq left them for new adventures. She tilted her head to the side wondering what kind of omen this was. Yet there was something she did not like about this announcement, either, though her thoughts were too muddled to mature into a true reason. That was when Mars spoke up.
Her eyes darted up to the black and white face, the icy blue eyes, a look of shock on her face. “Mars…” she began to caution, but there was no diffusing this and she wasn’t really sure why she would try to either, so on he went. She angled herself toward him and put a hand on his bicep, ears still laying back in a display of uncertainty.
It wasn’t until Skoll and Amaranth spoke up that her ears perked up and she stepped in front of Mars, though her short stature in no way could block him or anyone else from seeing each other. “Stop this!” She shrieked, holding her hands out. “What is going on here? Pack threatening pack for speaking his mind?” She glanced to their King. “Weak leadership will destroy the Court, and so will madness.” She turned and looked up at Mars. “Even if you don’t agree with this – and I’m not sure I do either – there are ways to go about voicing yourself. NOT this, Mars.” She was firm, but doing her best not to scream at anyone. Then she turned back around to Skoll and Amaranth. “And you two, way to stand united. We’re being picked off one by one, it seems.” She was referring to all the attacks. “The last thing we need to do is tear ourselves apart. I’m disgusted, I’ve seen too much destruction and the last thing I want to do is stand here and watch you lot bicker. I’ve heard your news, may I take my leave?”
“Come on, Svetlana,” she called her child, but still waited for permission to take her leave.
When the call came Orin was in the barn where Soraya, her faithful brown bovine friend, was kept, tending to the cow in the very lackluster fashion that had been Orin’s regular demeanor since the death of Misha and Vladmir. She knew her only surviving daughter, Svetlana, was safe with Mars back at home. These days, Orin rarely left their home except to tend to necessary chores, like tending after some of the stock that had come with her from d’Arte.
When the call came it bellowed over the valley and through the open barn door. Mechanical movements stopped and for once Orin lifted her head with something other than a blank stare upon her mien. Curiosity. This was curiosity. What was this call? And, who was it? She was so out of touch with reality that she barely knew what was going on with her pack right now.
But one thing was to be certain, the call demanded a response. A response in person. So she set down the shovel and wiped her hands off. Thankfully she had just started so she wouldn’t be covered with dung at the meeting.
Though there was importance behind the summons, Orin walked. It was not that she meant to disrespect the pack, but she still could not find the energy or will to run. Running was a thing the wolf did when it was free, spirited. There was no light in her right now. Her first stop was their house, though she assumed (and was correct) that Mars had already gone. She found Svetlana waiting for her there.
When she finally found the meeting place, the amphitheater, most of the pack had collected. She saw Silvano perched upon the stage ready to give his speech, and knew Mars was already there because she saw Vox mulling about outside of the congregation. Her eyes scanned the crowd and she soon found the piebald man standing in the back with his arms crossed, so she made her way over to Mars and strategically placed herself between Krystalle and her love.
Orin looked as weathered as she felt. Her ivory pelt held none of its traditional sheen and she pink and yellow dye in her fur had faded to a pitiful echo of what it once had been. Her eyes looked tired, and there was none of her old bounce in her step. The eyes that looked at Silvano were dull as they awaited his speech… and then it came.
Her ears dropped back as he spoke, when she realized what this announcement meant. He was the new Constable. Vigilante had been constable during her first stint in the pack… before Jaq left them for new adventures. She tilted her head to the side wondering what kind of omen this was. Yet there was something she did not like about this announcement, either, though her thoughts were too muddled to mature into a true reason. That was when Mars spoke up.
Her eyes darted up to the black and white face, the icy blue eyes, a look of shock on her face. “Mars…” she began to caution, but there was no diffusing this and she wasn’t really sure why she would try to either, so on he went. She angled herself toward him and put a hand on his bicep, ears still laying back in a display of uncertainty.
It wasn’t until Skoll and Amaranth spoke up that her ears perked up and she stepped in front of Mars, though her short stature in no way could block him or anyone else from seeing each other. “Stop this!” She shrieked, holding her hands out. “What is going on here? Pack threatening pack for speaking his mind?” She glanced to their King. “Weak leadership will destroy the Court, and so will madness.” She turned and looked up at Mars. “Even if you don’t agree with this – and I’m not sure I do either – there are ways to go about voicing yourself. NOT this, Mars.” She was firm, but doing her best not to scream at anyone. Then she turned back around to Skoll and Amaranth. “And you two, way to stand united. We’re being picked off one by one, it seems.” She was referring to all the attacks. “The last thing we need to do is tear ourselves apart. I’m disgusted, I’ve seen too much destruction and the last thing I want to do is stand here and watch you lot bicker. I’ve heard your news, may I take my leave?”
“Come on, Svetlana,” she called her child, but still waited for permission to take her leave.