now.
Were he to be honest with himself, the Baranski lord would know he was scared. Scared for his children, that he would not gain their approval or understanding. Scared that his followers may turn on him--he was supposed to be fearless, a leader that all those beneath him could look up to ... who could follow a man who was so quick to leave his home? His love soothed his worries with her words. Our family our are pack mates. His heart tightened in his chest. Not where we live. When his call died out, Maksim was swift to embrace Kisla. "Thank the heavens I have you," he breathed.
One by one, the wolves trickled in. Jynx was the first to arrive at the small forest clearing. The copper-coated yearling was proving to be a wonderful (and loyal) addition to the pack, and the Mackenzie titan held a great deal of respect for her ... despite the fact he had not yet taken the time to speak with her personally. He would rectify that, but only when he was certain they they were all safe. Karpos followed her, offering a wordless question to his superiors as he took a seat beside the Dirol girl, who Maksim could only presume was his friend. The agouti leader simply bowed his head. "In time," he grumbled softly.
His middle child, his wonderful and excitable prince, came shortly after the younger members of the pack. Orren. His life was a never ending adventure and, as the lad's father, the Baranski male could not be happier that he was enjoying his childhood to the fullest. Things would change though, and soon--for the better, he hoped. Offering his son a brief nuzzle behind his ear, the father simply smiled in response to his question. In time ... his heart strained.
The two healers of the pack arrived next--though, one without the title to identify her as such. Amisun and Lachesis. The faithful ghost took his place by the Baranski king's side, making it well known who stood below the leaders within the hierarchy of the River wolves. Oh, the agouti male owed so much to his deer-legged follower! A king was nothing, after all, without his faithful second. Much like Naia, he was a Pitch Pine Trail refugee. Now that he had time to reflect on it, even if only briefly, he had many of what were once the Trail's members in his ranks. What a force it would have been, had their king not been slain.
Maksim's heart lurched in his chest before it dropped to his stomach when Karina arrived. His darling daughter, who he adored and cherished like she was forever his baby girl. She wriggled between her parents, the lord chuckling ever so slightly under his breath as she squeezed into the gap that had once existed. That space was now full of his blood and his legacy to Relic Lore, and wherever else their paws may take them. He swiped his tongue across her crown as she leaned into him, resting his chin atop her head for a moment. "My little lamb," he crooned softly.
So wrapped up in reassuring and comforting his daughter, the lord almost missed the entrance of perhaps one of the River's most brilliant wolves (though, in his opinion, each wolf of this territory was skilled beyond all praise and worthy of utmost respect); Naia Aegina. The woman below Kisla was a hard-working and diligent scout, with unshakable loyalty even through disagreements in diplomacy. She, after all, had been the one to figuratively slap the River king and convince him into possibly taking peace talks into account with Hollowheart Keep ... but, even she would not be able to charm the family out of this predicament.
When Aleksei arrived, it was almost as if his heart melted in his chest. Seeing them stood before him, no longer mewling cubs but maturing, wonderful wolves ... he closed his eyes. This territory had served both he and his family well. That was certain. His first-born's voice felt like a buzz in his as emotions swelled within his breast. His expression betrayed his attempts to be the rock--he was sad to leave this place. Bastet, nor Anastasia, had turned up. He could ill-afford to wait any longer. Instead, Maksim could only pray they would arrive as he spoke.
Slowly standing, lifting his chin to take on that honourable and proud stance so well-known by the River wolves, the king spoke up. His voice boomed, commanding grand authority ... and yet there was pain that betrayed him. "As you all know, Cut Rock River has always put pride in its ability to stand its ground. We are a family, and we stand together as a great force that would shake the very bones of those who dare to intend to bring us harm. And yet now we are faced with a grand dilemma that we cannot brace ourselves for." His verdant gaze drifted across his followers, across his family. He drew strength from their presence and pressed on. "Whisper Caverns ever remain a threat ... and now, there comes the addition of yet more. Rook Lyall has betrayed us all, threatened our very lives in leaving us in such a foolish manner. Stealing away to Willow Ridge, openly stealing away their members and carrying our scent on his pelt. Not only that, but he has claimed a territory not far from our own, within this very forest. Grizzly Hollow has been reborn, a pack once cast to its end by the very same family that now revives it."
"I need not explain how damaging this will be to our lives," he explained, his voice rough. "As such, Kisla and I have spoken for days now--perhaps even weeks ... and we have come to a conclusion that we both wish we did not have to arrive at. We are to leave Cedarwood Forest, for our safety and our dignity." He took a breath. "We are to leave Cut Rock River."