The King, or so she assumed, began to speak and Magnolia’s full attention was devoted to him for some time. The chocolate-hued man spoke with thunder and regality, and the man’s voice sent unexpected chills down the girl’s spine. This was her new leader, and he seemed perfectly adequate at it. He commanded respect, and for all that Magnolia could see, he deserved it from every member of the feast. The family was silent as he spoke, and the power from his body seemed to make the whole area vibrate.
The Associate’s stomach began to grumble as the dark leader gave permission for everyone to eat. Magnolia had never experienced cooked meat before, and her eyes greedily searched for the closest animal to where she was sitting. Everything did look so enticing. After an intense moment watching the leaders to make sure they ate first, the Associate gingerly took a few morsels of meat off the table. The sweet, succulent juices tasted heavenly to the young woman. Magnolia smiled, and looked at the Family beside her. While she knew they wouldn’t want to be disturbed while they were eating, Magnolia knew thanks was in order. “Thank you,” Magnolia said quietly, feeling unworthy to be dining among the Family. She knew one day she would be accepted here, but that day seemed so very far off. She nodded to her superiors once again before taking more meat for himself.
It was with ease she found her place, for her brother would always claim one for her. Salsola itself would make room for the girl, for she was the prodigy of her mother and favored by Sirius. There was nothing that Salvia would not be able to touch or take or own if it did not belong to her King. She sat with a great deal of stillness even as Sirius spoke, shifting only when the order was given for food to be consumed. Both her father and brother ate noisily, and amused by this display, Salvia grinned broadly and grabbed a haunch of meat herself.
Both siblings hardly had a need to be so ravenous, but they ate with abandon none the less. It was not out of necessity, of course. Any stranger could see that they were both large for their ages. Pandemic was a beast, and he would tower over all like her father did. Green eyes glimmered merrily as she swallowed the cooked meat, stopping only to summon Axi over to provide her with fresh water.
The sable-shaded woman half-listened to Sirius, though her chartreuse eyes and her dark face gave the perfect expression of attention. Her mind was elsewhere, nervously nattering on about the goat. It would be her duty, she thought, to cut its throat and open its belly. She had decided she would not partake of the alcohol herself; as she would save the task for entirely after their meal, the sable woman did not wish to appear drunk. The coyote did not know the damage the alcohol might do to the developing children, of course, but she had chosen to abstain for entirely different reasons. To fumble with the knife or fail entirely after their meal would be disgrace.
She reached for a stick with chunked deer speared upon it, seared so lightly they were still bloody red and raw, barely touched by the flame. She pulled the pieces off with her teeth as delicately as she could manage, though the slowness of movement was of no particular need for grace. Instead, her chartreuse eyes looked from one member to the next, quietly scrutinizing and wondering. The sable woman looked to Bastion, her chartreuse eyes studying the child-like boy for a moment.
There was another motion to Molcaxitl, more attentive now that she had been snapped at once, and she leaned forward to listen to Eris's whisper. The girl returned and rounded the table slowly, hunched as to keep herself from drawing attention. She set before Eris a small dish, the simple sort that belonged to Molca herself, as much as something technically owned by Eris could in that the sable Auxiliary herself never made actual use of the items for preparation. The hybrid studied the odd meat therein, but remembering the pallid man's belief, she took for herself a small piece of the half-cooked thing, then slid the bowl toward Bastion.
Somewhere distantly behind her, the male slave was muttering to Molcaxitl, though the sable hybrid could not quite make out the words. He was quiet, and they were both removing emptied dishes to wherever it was the slaves took care of them. The hybrid cocked her head and listened, but she couldn't quite hear the words, and she carefully placed a piece of the strange meat on her tongue, holding it there to catch the flavor before swallowing.
ooc: From this point onwards, post order is demolished (we aim to keep this thread as fast-moving as possible). This will make more sense after you've read my post, but could the individual who posts after me please HOLD DARI STILL, and could whoever posts after them please CUT OUT HIS TONGUE. Feel free to PP him struggling, as he is a pack NPC. Thankyou <3
Those who chose to eat of the spoils of Salsola did so with gusto. A silence fell over the long table - A silence of the tongue and of thought, for the noises of chewing and tearing and gnawing were quick to fill that void. Firelight flickered off of the faces gathered around him, and olive eyes drank them in keenly, filled with that sheer intelligence that some would say bordered on madness. His genius had brought them all here, and with such thoughts came the pleasant rush of arrogance.
A muttering pervaded his hearing, and large, elegant ears drifted back in annoyance. The male slave, Darijus, was whispering in urgent tones to Eris' girl, who in turned shushed him pleadingly. The interaction was not missed, but Sirius did not slow from his eating. Yellowed teeth scraped along a doe's thigh-bone, coated in fat-grease and a thin veneer of blood that made them shine eerily red in the dancing orange light.
For a moment, it seemed as though the evening would go as planned. But then the male slave stomped forward, reaching with one grubby hand for a delicious steaming hunk of hare near to the edge of the table.
Sirius rose quickly, the dark fur coat rustling about him like a pair of great, dark wings. Darijus' eyes lifted to him quickly, and they were laced with anger. "I am hungry! What makes you lot better than me, that you can eat while I starve?" The offending piece of meat was grasped tightly in his fist, and his posture emanated aggression.
The Thistle King's black lips peeled back from his teeth, in what could have been a grotesque smile, or a terrible snarl. "You dare talk to me, slave?" One cream hand rose, and fingers waved dismissively at the wolf. "Grab him. Silence him." From beneath his coat Sirius revealed a sharpened hunting knife, and threw it in a loose motion onto the table for any to grab. Who would have the honor of doing their leader's bidding, on this soul-less night? In the shadows of the table, the girl-slave Molca was shaking. "All slaves must know their place." Came the dark, brooding words, a severe look of displeasure marring the Thistle King's handsome features.
Salvia does not grab Dari. LARKSPUR is holding him down, and his mouth is open.
Over the past few months, Salvia had been taught several intense and well-held lessons. Among these was the place of slaves within the world of Salsola—they were objects and meant only to serve. Tlanti had forced her to stop calling them by gender; they were only it or slave now. Less than horses, less than anything else. So when the slave began moving towards Sirius, she stiffened. By the time he had reached for food the girl was on her feet, only seconds after Sirius himself rose.
The command was met with a silent rush, and Salvia’s lithe body went for the man. He snarled and swatted at her, striking the girl in the face.
A bellowing roar sounded from nearby and it was Larkspur that reached the slave first. His large hands grappled the shoulders of the wolf, throwing him to the ground in one motion. It was nothing to him; Larkspur outweighed the assembled pack on all accounts. There was nothing gentle about his handling, and the wolf screamed at the massive weight on his back.
Bastion cared little for those surrounding him at the table. The one whom he wanted to see wasn't there. No, he was off on assignment and didn't seem as if he would make it back. It meant another night that he would be sleeping alone. The small boy really hated having to sleep alone. Instead he focused his attention upon something else instead. He was looking for some particular meat that only one knew the answer to. It had been a special request really and one that seemed to have been fulfilled.
His tail wagged happily behind him as he was passed the bowl. Of course that was after Eris had tried some for herself. Small fingers picked up the meat from therein, glad that not all of the blood had been drained from the pieces. Eagerly he began to eat from the dish that he was handed and left the rest of the spoils that covered the table to whomever chose to partake of them. His eyes closed in delight as he let the meat slide down his throat without bothering to chew. He was in a state of bliss.
That bliss was quickly broken by an outburst at the head of the table. His lip twitched in irritation at the antics of the male that he had brought in. There was no way that he was going to let the slave make him look bad. There hadn't been the opportunity to break him yet but he certainly would delight in putting the slave in his place. He didn't like his euphoria being interrupted. Oh no, most definitely not.
When the knife was tossed onto the table he was quick to grab it. He slipped away from the table so that he could approach the slave. He didn't have the physical strength, let alone stature, to be able to hold the brute still as had been ordered but he certainly could silence the other. Actually he would take enjoyment in it. "Not for you." He spoke out in clipped words as was usual for him. His hand tightened on the hilt of the knife as he stared at the male slave. Bastion was glad that someone else had grabbed hold of the slave and held onto him since it allowed him to do as he wished. He walked around the duo so that he could kneel down in front of the slave.
He waited for the slave's mouth to open and grabbed his tongue in order to sever it. "You hungry you eat this." The words were accompanied by a cruel little smile. He dropped the severed muscle into the slave's mouth and used both of his hands, having to drop the knife to the ground to do so, in order to force Dari's jaws closed, having made certain that one hand covered the male's nose so that he would be forced to swallow since he couldn't breath.
But Bastion wasn't done there. Once he was fairly certain the other would have swallowed he released his hold on the slave's muzzle and picked up the knife again. "You no put back I take something else." And just what would it hurt for the man to lose? Well, his manhood obviously. Sure, it would seem logical to think that if you stole you lost a hand but the slave would need both of his hands for physical labor. Instead Bastion motioned with the knife to the lower, yet hidden, regions of the male's body. The positioning was off from the threat he was making but the look in the boy's eyes showed that he wasn't going to hesitate in castrating the other should he not be listened to and the food placed back on the table once more.
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mall-caps;font-variantmall-caps;letter-spacing:4px;">THE SPARK OF DAWN
Her attention was kept from the others, slender fingers only just picking at the food set before her. It wasn't that she was not hungry, though that was true enough, but that she had little trust in the slaves so far to eat food prepared by any but the Eternian woman, Molca. Molca knew her place. The rest? Well, one was Larkspur's and the other showed defiance, and neither of those things were appetizing to the shaman. So that was all she did — as others took great handfuls of meat, Tlantli picked and picked and picked and barely ate.
She didn't notice the movements of the defiant one until after his outburst, but her head shot up in time to watch the others spring into action. Her niece received a slap to the face while her strong father sprang to restrain him, the small man-boy at her side going about his own work. She was silent while Larkspur held him down. She was silent as his tongue was removed. Fire eyes remained wide and wondering as the display was done in front of all, a sick and almost vulgar sense of excitement coursing through her. And then it was over.
Laughter erupted from the jaws of the petite coyote, her eyes closing as a hand rose to cover the top of her muzzle — why she was laughing was unknown to her, but it came naturally to break up an otherwise tense atmosphere. "Esta es la razón por lobos son inútiles; debido a su estupidez." Each Spanish word was wrapped in melodic, laughing amusement as she berated the intelligence of many members at the table without thinking.
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Tralala. Moving thread along. Powerplay cleared by Bributt for Pandemic and Smellaine for Siriface. (649)
There was a burst of movement, and the slave reached up toward the table. The world seemed to explode into chaos, and Sirius was on his feet, issuing a sinister command. There was a strike issued from the slave's hand, and chartreuse eyes watched in widened shock as the hand made contact with Salvia. Before she could so much as react, however, Larkspur was on his feet and the slave was on the ground, held there by a hulking black shadow, tinged with frost. A smaller reflection of that shadow seemed ready to explode with all the raging fire and hate in the world.
The coyote watched as Bastion made short work of the man at Sirius's command; never again would the slave's tongue speak ill of Salsola. Tlanlti's voice, speaking in Spanish, was somewhere in the distance, far away. The coyote's chartreuse eyes peered curiously at the blood, and she herself moved, unaware that she had even stood in the first place, stalking toward Pandemic to lean down and place her hand on the boy's shoulder. Hush, darling, she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. He will pay for his insult to our blood, of course, the hybrid added, this time louder. She rose back up to standing height, staring down at the slave with the red pooling about him in the dirt.
I would have his hand for the slap, but he is meant for labor and it would ruin him, she said thoughtfully, a note of remorse in her voice. Eris very nearly considered simply cutting her losses, but this one was simply devoid of intelligence. He would be broken of that independence. Some of it had already faded from his eyes -- she saw the dullness in them, the pain. We'll think of something, she mused, turning back toward her seat and ushering Pandemic to do the same with a smile. Take care of it, she said, peering toward Molcaxitl and her russet companion.
As she slipped back to her position at their wooden table, her head twisted toward Sirius, though her gaze was averted to the side of him. Perhaps we should move to our business, she suggested quietly, only for his tawny ears. It was only at his approval that the hybrid stood, lifting her hands for the attention and quiet of the table. At our beloved Boss's command, we'll move to business. If you need more food than you'e eaten, you may take as much as you'd like to your homes, the hybrid offered, spreading her hands to the still-ample buffet before dropping them to her sides.
We grow stronger indeed with each day. Tlantli will serve as our Segna. Our dear Salvia has moved to The Family ranks. We have several new Associates, each of which shows promise to serve Salsola with dedication, the dark-hued hybrid said, her eyes glancing in the direction of the Associates, Salvia, and Tlantli in turn. Almost as an afterthought, she spoke again. And you've already made introductions with our new slave. Call him Darijus, if you need call him anything. The sable hybrid had performed her duty, delivering the leadership's message to the pack. The group's news complete, the hybrid then smiled a toothy sort of grin, looking to Larkspur and gesturing with a wave of her hand.
And for my own business... Larkspur and I will be Salsola's first pair of mates, she said, her trickster's grin still bold and her eyes still on her mate, as he was truly, now. Not only that, but we will give Salsola its first litter of puppies, the sable coyote added, her voice high with glee and her grin wider with each word. Her hand had long moved to hold her stomach, her tail wavering quickly behind her.
table by haley. It’s TOO EARLY. But thank god for ‘souls otherwise work would definitely kill me. >_>
Words: 305
A flash of movement occurred in front of Magnolia, and before the teenager realized what happened a slave was badly hurt; his tongue was taken out and the man was forever silenced from that moment on. Her eyes widened in horror as she held back both whimper and a gasp. Magnolia looked at Larkspur momentarily, jade eyes seeking pumpkin for answers. So this was how the pack operated. They were a mob of ruthless canines that would kill anyone that disrespected the thistle kingdom. Salsola came first above everything. Just how ruthless they really were only became apparent to the mohawked girl now. The scene frightened Maggie immensely but she did her best to not show emotion. After this outbreak the Associate certainly had no more appetite and lowered her food back to the table.
Magnolia would have a hard time adjusting to the hierarchy here. That man may have been a slave, but the treatment he received made her cringe. It was terrible and her heart went out to the male. If Magnolia were to stay here and succeed she would have to forget about her feelings towards slaves. The depressing thought haunted her as she kept her eyes lowered to the ground and trying to avoid all eye contact with those around her.
Eris spoke, then, referring to pack business. Magnolia had no idea who Tlantli or Salvia were, but she did flash a grin back at Eris as the Associates were mentioned. Her good news continued as she announced her mateship and coming puppies, her body now clearly visibly pregnant to Maggie. At the news The girl lifted her dainty head and grinned as she looked over at the charcoal lovers. She said nothing, but gave her congratulations with the warmest smile she could muster with shining eyes and a nod to the pair.
Some PP with taking Darijus from Larkspur -- feel free to poke me about removing it.
mall-caps;font-variantmall-caps;letter-spacing:4px;">THE SPARK OF DAWN
It was Eris' words that caused the laughing coyote to silence herself. Not the words of more punishment, not the words of new ranks...words of her mateship and pregnancy drew cold air around the Crone, who already disapproved of Larkspur enough. Her features turned stoney, cold, emotionless. Tlantli had given her blessing, but it was with a bitter taste and respect for her non-sister — not a true desire to see it unfold. She couldn't understand the woman's choice, but she had not lived the same life.
A grunt of response was all the two received for the news, her eyes wandering to other things. Fire eyes caught the similar gaze of Xochime, who knew her sister's mood had bee fouled and shrank in her place. In a gesture of good will, in a gesture shown by the man-child Bastion at the first meeting of the family, Tlantli rose from her seat and approached the male slave — the women had done nothing wrong, and the Crone cared little about them. In silence, she took him from Larkspur, her foot slamming into the joint of his knee to send Darijus to the floor; with the recent loss of his tongue, all he could do was make horrible noises of complaint that received a quick blow to the head by the violent coyote. She only needed one thing. Raising a simple bowl, her bone knife opened the flesh of his arm, close to where she knew the most prosperous veins to be. The warm liquid filled the vessel quickly and she returned to her seat without apology.
Her fingers dipped into the blood before finding her jaws — as the taste of the wolf's blood filled her mouth, she grimaced. "Aye would haft found better, but ahn ahnimal ess ahn ahnimal ess a wolf — this will do." She turned to Eris, reaching out with bloody fingers to mark her features with simple lines — an attempt to denote health and well-being for the woman who had no Gods.
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weird post. :S and why is my ooc font doing this weird thing? ; ;
Denver's stare intensified the second the slave put his hands to the table. The white dog had known slaves, and known their masters; there were always rules. One of the biggest: you certainly did not eat from the same table. As Denver suspected, the Boss would not tolerate such insolence. He was calm, but menacing, like a snake. It only took a few words before he threw a knife to the crude table, demanding the slave's tongue be taken.
The Associate moved quickly to grab the gleaming piece of metal, happy to prove instantly how loyal he could be to think King he admired. Eyes locked with the few who beat him as he slunk back to his seat, placing hands on the table, sullenly watching the scene without apathy. Blood splattered far across the table, so Denver stood and backed out of the splash zone; it would be impossible to get blood out of the fabric of his scarf.
The creamy mutt slowly made his way to his seat once again as Eris took over with an announcement. The dark goddess claimed she and Larkspur had come to be mated, and that she carried his pups. Interested, Denver's brows raised and he nodded slowly in approval. Larkspur was, after all, quite the pinnacle of strength and manliness. Pushing away the angry thought that he would never be as tall and muscular as that wolf, Denver gave a silent nod of congratulations to the beautiful witch who held such a commanding presence; now, her body was a vessel for the first ever infant Salsolans. The Associate knew she would be well cared for, but of course would offer his assistance nonetheless.
Pale eyes darted quickly around the room to gauge reactions, noting that the weird girl with the mohawk seemed particularly happy for the pair. Strange. The yellow coyote woman then broke out in laughter, pausing to breathe a few words in a language Denver didn't know (maybe Spanish?), before continuing to heartily chortle. The ivory dog muffled his own laughter at the scene; it wasn't really amusing, but in their own separate ways, it was.
Word Count » 581 Lots to catch up on, sorry for his absence
Citlali Kimaris-Etalpalli
Lingering in the large doorway-like dilapidating stone wall while others filed past him greedily didn’t bother the boy. He simply stood as still as he could while other members, who were only familiar by the scent they all shared, brushed against his sides in a less tentative attempt to find a seat at the wooden table. Finally the stream lessened, and the ginger coyote was brave enough to take a step into the firelight. Eris found him shortly after his entrance, her charcoal hand waving him forward with a fond smile. The Kimaris nodded at her, and the others who complimented him enough to even set their gaze upon his form. Even the Boss King let his pale, swimming green eyes rest curiously at his angle for only a moment. After being addressed silently, Citlali found his way to a seat, appropriately chosen for his importance. Monotonous forest green eyes found his aunt’s nimble, sand-pelted form again, already seated and comfortable by others of the pack. He breathed finally.
Many more wolves, coyotes, dogs, and mixes of all three continued in and found seats after he had. Each one had different expressions painted and illuminated by firelight on their faces. Each one came in differently and expressed a different manor with their presence. Each one had a place in the Family. Even before a good deal were settled quietly, Sirius spoke, his voice drawing eager glances to his end of the table. Citlali listened, as he should, to the man he had seen a glimpse of only once before. Only once did the ginger-white coyote shift his dull gaze to the table, movement of setting up stopped for the moment. The amount of food was great, large enough for each member to eat for many days. A thought like so, however, did not water the mouth of the boy.
Once the Boss was done, his tone ending sturdily, mysteriously, and ravenously, few began to eat upon his command. It was only after he, and those leaders like himself, had had their share, did most other members pick up pieces of rations. Much like those around him, Citlali marveled at the many flavors and decisions before him. He knew he had the right to feast alongside the leaders, however, he still waited, keeping his eyes fixed on a rabbit while paws grabbed about before him.
Not long after the sounds of feasting erupted gradually into the air, did another voice break them. It was urgent, defiant, and that of a slave, Citlali realized after his gaze had been lifted. Sirius rose with such triumphant that the boy’s eyes had trouble following what happened next. After disapproving words of the Thistle King were spat at the scrawny male a gleaming freshly sharpened knife was thrown on the wood and produced a clanging noise as it settled. Citlali made no move to grab it as few others did. He kept his hands between his crossed legs, as far out of sight as he could. The next movements happened too quickly. Someone snatched the knife with lithe hands while a young girl was stricken by the slave, a fatal mistake, and Larkspur snatched the offender as if he was just a hare. Citlali didn’t watch the rest, as many did, until the supper had moved along. He listened still to his Auxiliaries words, which she spoke as if nothing had happened, and smiled whether she caught his eye or not. Good news had been brought that night.
He had made his threat known, giving everyone present a preview of just what he was capable of. Of how easily he could mutilate another even able to make a threat of former deformities. So yes, he wasn't nearly as innocent as his appearance seemed to say he was. He hadn't even hesitated in the slightest. But then again he felt he should have the honor of disfiguring since it had been his capture. Of course he could consider breaking the other further. But sometimes the small boy got overzealous and the results weren't too pleasant. Still the slave didn't have much of a mind in his head so he should fall into line easily enough. At least that was hoped.
When the male was taken away Bastion moved away as well. He licked the blade to clean off what bit of blood was there before he placed it back down in front of Sirius, returning the blade to the owner. He then went back to his seat and sat down so that he could pick at the piece of meat in the bowl and place them into his mouth to savor them. He continued to suck on the piece of meat in his mouth even as Eris spoke. His dinner had been interrupted by the disturbance so of course he was going to continue to eat. After all he was only partaking of a small bowl that had been prepared just for him.
Even though he continued to consume his meager portion he did so in silence and paid attention to what was being said. He figured that nothing really be said to him as he consumed the meal that he had mostly missed out on because he had to wait for it and then the business with the slave had called him away from it. But then the news of the pups had him rising again. He picked the bowl up in his hands and approached Eris with it. Even though it was a delicacy to him and he really didn't want to give it up he still presented it to Eris. He didn't speak because he didn't feel as if words needed to be spoken. He knew that the female knew exactly what the bowl contained and just what he was giving up for him to give it away. Still, she had little ones growing in her belly so she and, as an added effect, those in her belly will extend their lives. What better gift to give the unborn than to extend their lives even before they began? It was most likely something that everyone else gathered would be unable to understand given that it was a silent exchange. That simply didn't matter just so long as Eris was able to understand the gesture. And just to make certain she realized the full reason that he was giving up something so precious to him he reached out the hand that hadn't held the bowl to try to place it against Eris's belly as he tilted his head back to look up at her face in order to make certain she understood the silent gesture. She wasn't Janos, whom could read him easily based on his slight noises and gestures, but he thought her to be close in his puppy's abilities when it came to understanding exactly meant even if he should not say it.
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Before him, the scene exploded. Bleeding sunset hues followed the slave as he signed his own downfall. The domino effect started, and the Protégé remained, emotionless in his seat. His Leader spoke up with cruel words, yet the blonde Lykoi stayed, for there were other, more eager members to take care of the slave who wrongly wished to be a free man. Itachi’s involvement was not needed, and instead he remained a spectator; heavy lidded eyes never straying from the slave as he slapped Eris’ daughter and was overpowered by the monstrous Larkspur. His pulse never climbed as he watched the scene develop before him. This was a messy way of making certain justice would be paid, but it worked well enough.
Eyes blinked instinctively as droplets from the spray of blood splattered across his blonde face, only to open again to ponder at the amount of blood the now tongueless male could spew. There was a delicious perfume weighting down the air now; so much favourable than roasted, gilded dinner set before them. His eyes cared little to wander among the rest of the Family, for what use did he have of feasting in different impressions of this scene? Itachi already knew that he was sick, and so very far beyond redemption.
His red gaze slowly moved to the table, and its red dotted surface. Pale fingers rose to brush against hard wood and freshly spilled blood. He then brought the red stained fingers to his lips, and his tongue quickly leaped out between sharp teeth to savour this beautiful, scarlet liquid. Eyes returned to the defeated slave; shrank to thin slits with pupils drowning in maroon seas. So lovely...
Drums pounded against ribcage prison whining his chest, covered by thick, perfect ebony pelt. Everything had happened so fast, but at the same time so painfully slow. Pandemic had not liked that a simple slave had touched his Family’s food, but the incident had turned worse with every breath drawn in through dark nostrils. His brave sister had jumped to her feet as Sirius’ voice had boomed, and whatever food had remained in her brother’s mouth had fallen to the floor, half-chewed, as he had watched as the bastard laid hand on his sun and stars. His green eyed sibling held an important role in his life, and the oversized boy was especially protective of her.
A scene from Harlowe’s death had danced before stormy eyes, and the drums had beat harder against his chest; hurting him. Pandemic had leaped over the table and probably been ready to make a feast out of the two legged optime, though his bulky form had found its way to his harmed sister instead, moving between her and the attacker; protecting her. Lips had withdrawn to show off milky white teeth, and mature thunder vibrated in the young boy’s throat. Pandemic was terribly upset, and for a moment it didn’t seem as if he detected it when his mother’s soft touch and reassuring words, for no visible response was given before several long moments had passed.
Grey eyes then blinked, troubled. He turned from the slave and closed his mind off from all that was happening. Nothing but the girl mattered in his world, and he was worried, so very worried. A pitiful, strangled sound escaped through clenched jaws, and a cold, black nose nudged his sister, lovingly.
ooc: Thanks everyone for participating! This will be the last post for this thread <3 If you wish to have your character deliver any personal/direct news to Sirius or Eris, you may do so by PMing Sie or myself c:
The slave had been effectively dealt with, but not without a burst of chaotic energy. Silver-flecked eyes of acidic olive drew sharp pupils over those who entered the fray - Precious Salvia, precarious Pandemic, the bellowing bull-like Larkspur. Surprisingly, it was the unpredictable Bastion who was first to take the honor of the Alpha's blade, and with its keen bite sever the offending organ of the slave. The antics didn't end there, for the terrible young male proceeded to have the slave swallow his own tongue, amid the blood that gurgled from his maw.
Satisfied that his law had been enforced, Sirius reclined once more, easing his lean body into a neat cross-legged position at the head of the table. Eris whispered in his ear, and the Thistle King nodded, his narrowed pupils still glancing appraisingly at Bastion as the Silenced slave was dragged away.
The Auxiliary's voice rose, strong and smooth and feminine, into the crisp night air. Fire danced to her tone, and respectful silence fell for the breath that came from between ebony jaws. She was a midnight queen, wreathed in the darkness of this splendid night, and pride swelled within the seated Boss as she spoke of ranks and newly inducted members. The Revlis man's eyes turned to each face as it was named, those wickedly intelligent eyes surveying, measuring. But these announcements were shadowed by the fresh news of a soon-to-be-mother.
Tlantli blessed the dark woman's womb with the fresh blood of the wolf-slave. Sirius sat silently, one hand contemplatively stroking the tuft of hair at his chin, slitted pupils moving between the Arbiter-father and the Auxiliary-mother. They lingered on the glint of Eris' black ring, wrapped about the finger that rested now against the smooth curve of her abdomen. Salsola's first litter of puppies.
He sat still a moment more, allowing the rustle of tongues to commend this announcement, the pleased glint of eyes as the Family preened over the news of Eris' pregnancy and mateship. Finally raising a hand for silence, the Thistle King stood again, thick bearcoat whispering against his dark fur. "We are blessed by this news. Salsolans, we will welcome Eriskin into our hearts, as the first babes born of our fine Kingdom," A sharp smile rewarded such words, voiced in thickest purr to show his undeniable pleasure. Eris would bear strong children, undebatable as they were the fruit of Larkspur's loins, and these would be the first true-born of the land of thistle.
Clearing his throat, the Boss waited a moment more, before addressing his Family again. "This supper is concluded, brethren. If you desire to impart knowledge on the Auxiliary or myself, we shall remain here. Approach as you wish, eat as you may. The night is fresh for those with a taste for wine or meat." And with a dismissive hand gesture, Sirius sat back onto the compact earth, and began a muttered conversation with the now-seated Eris.
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Powerplay cleared by Bributt for Pandemic and Smellaine for Siriface. (649)
