the price you pay for loss of control

Birth was in the air, a sickly scent marked by blood, and life. It would seem that the little usurpers finally came, ready to steal the crown atop her head. Glaring in their general direction -- as she was too far away to actually see the den -- Celandine felt a low growl tumble from her throat. She wanted them disposed of, but finding a quiet moment alone with the godforsaken creatures when their mother's were playing the 'dutiful' card, was impossible. They would get bored with it soon enough, but soon wasn't close enough. She wanted them gone now. Pale lips drew back, revealing yearling-white teeth, while the hair above her shoulders rose. There was no place for any of them. They would grow up in her world, not theirs.

She was ready to turn her back on them; willing to run as far as she needed to get rid of the scent that clung so desperately to her fur. They were filthy, dirty creatures, all of them. She hated them, hated their mothers, hated her sister even. What was happening to her? When had the princess made the transition from squalling cub who competed with Evy, for Borlla's attention, to a heartless girl filled with so much hate? No. She couldn't second guess herself, so instead, she locked it all away. Spinning, the youth started away from the dens, away from her pack mates, her family, her life, her title. Away from everything. 

Her steps quickened in pace from a walk, to a sprint, and finally to a run. Gliding over the terrain she had come to know, past the rocks, and caches, past her own den. The yearling did not stop when she reached the borders, or when the mountain peaked. She ran as hard, and as fast as she could, wondering how far would be far enough, and wondering it there was such a thing.

The red flowers were everywhere and as the yearling sat there contemplating he couldn’t decide if they were fields of fire, or if the earth had simply absorbed that much blood that it tainted anything that would ever grow here. There was something…something. Back in the bloodwood he would have known almost immediately, but here surrounded by these heathens… well there was a reason they had so rapidly defended from the mountain. Herb gathering. It was a handy excuse.

@Asphodel wouldn’t be far, she rarely was. He could almost sense her somewhere at his back while he kept watch. He was still adamant that they would have better luck finding the mushrooms she was looking for to the north but they both knew, at least for now that the Willows were out of bounds. The rapidly approaching white wolf took him by surprise and he cursed under his breath Vae. A bark issued forth in both warning to his sister and welcome to the stranger, remaining in his seated position amongst the flowers. At least this way he could spare Asphodel the chore of dealing with one of these godless creatures should she so choose.

The last thing he wanted the stranger to think was that he had any intention of sneaking up on her. His brown fur could be deceiving so he stood, lowering his head so she wouldn’t see the roll of his eyes as he forced his head and tail lower than they wanted to rest. They had to play nice, until mother told them otherwise.

There is a moose carcass that has been scavenged by coyotes nearby. +15 Health

Each day without a vision passed in slow monotony, as the pair searched high and low for those godforsaken mushrooms. She knew as well as Hemlock that they would be better found to the north, but Naira's instructions were clear. The willow wolves were not to be trusted, and so for now, Asphodel chose to heed the warning; much to her disdain. Had it not been her the matriarch who warned them, the yearling was confident that they would already have the plants, and she might even have her prophecy back. It might not have been as refined as their grandmother's but any insight would be better than none at all. 

Dark nose to the ground, she searched for any hint that they might be nearby, but to no avail. It would seem that the hilly area lacked the proper environment for mushroom hunting. There was hardly enough moisture, and far too much sun, but she was desperate. 

Before Hemlock's voice even touched her ears, the yearling had already doubled back, as though she could sense his distaste. "Quid habemus hic?" She spoke in their tongue, a devilish smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. The pretty little thing could be of some use to them, especially since she was in such an obvious state of distress. When one's emotions were scattered, it usually left plenty of room for.. suggestion. The sheer prospect delighted her.

As the stranger moved in, and Asphodel had the chance to scan her delicate features,the tawny youth changed her mind. Rather than coming to a halt beside her brother, she did so diagonal to him, putting herself just between his muddy coat, and the girl's pale one. It was almost a protective stance, though she knew that Hemlock had no problem defending himself. It was something else, perhaps. Something that might have been best not to dwell on.  

Woofing her own greeting to the pale girl, she waited to see what this interaction would hold.

The pair made their presence known, though she considered ignoring them. The youth was hardly in the right mindset for games, and titles-which every meeting would undoubtedly require-as if there were some unspoken rule of sizing up your opponent while drooling pleasantries. Halting, she let neutrality mask the distaste slowly growing within so that when she swung her pale crown to face them, it would be the princess they met, rather than the rebel. Amber eyes were able to scan the male's features just before the tawny girl came to rest between them. The relation in their features, and coloration was unmistakable, similar to that of Takis, and herself. Celandine found it almost odd that the siblings were able to remain so close, which led her to the conclusion that they must have been base-born. Without a throne to compete for, the yearling figured that even Evy might have had a place in her life, though thankfully she hadn't had to deal with the dark girl as of late. It would seem her sister found something better than the Plateau.

The yearling wasn't sure when the rage finally dissolved, slowly making it's way into the air, and leaving behind nothingness in it's wake. She felt numb to the betrayal, to the anger, to the world. Even her eyes which were usually filled with a bright intelligence seemed empty. It was with those emotions, or lack thereof, that she spoke. "Hello." Without the usual lilt and honey in her tone, she sounded just about as dead to the world as she felt.

Have you seen my OOC preferences?