09-17-2017, 11:57 AM
Loyalty belonged to her family. What the pale stallion garnered from her was interest, nothing more. The two had mutually clashed (for good reason) during Gryffen's tryst with her homeland but there had been an annoying thread of common enemy to create the single knot which now tugged at her heart when the whistle rang true in her uplifted ears. It felt wrong, to be summoned like some baseborn dog despite all that the emerald shifter had overcome in her trials of late, though the last, determined glint to Gryffen's red eyes had been more than enough reminder of what the two had privately shared.
"We hunt." She commands to her youngest son beside her, once the call has spiraled into silence. All too eager for the chase Crevan beats her to the shift - folding in upon himself to reshape and build the second skin of a great, ivory and taupe wolf. Circinae follows suit, transforming to fall beside him as the common brown she-wolf others knew her by so well. Together they leap ahead into the thicket, weaving among themselves with practiced ease until the canopy of green filters through to vibrant hues of fiery golds.
When his smell assaults her, both wolves tip wet noses to the sky and loose forlorn howls to herald their arrival. For now it was simple - She and her son would be the silent muscle, the cold threat to cool an otherwise turbulent occasion. If the chips were to scatter, however, the threat could easily harden into bloody resolve.
The outcome was entirely up to what remained of Sylva. Padding easily to a halt near the tail of the group the two predators stand with silent, haunting eyes while others gather. Circinae can only hope that sensibility would guide whoever chose to stay - that and a healthy sense of self-preservation.
"We hunt." She commands to her youngest son beside her, once the call has spiraled into silence. All too eager for the chase Crevan beats her to the shift - folding in upon himself to reshape and build the second skin of a great, ivory and taupe wolf. Circinae follows suit, transforming to fall beside him as the common brown she-wolf others knew her by so well. Together they leap ahead into the thicket, weaving among themselves with practiced ease until the canopy of green filters through to vibrant hues of fiery golds.
When his smell assaults her, both wolves tip wet noses to the sky and loose forlorn howls to herald their arrival. For now it was simple - She and her son would be the silent muscle, the cold threat to cool an otherwise turbulent occasion. If the chips were to scatter, however, the threat could easily harden into bloody resolve.
The outcome was entirely up to what remained of Sylva. Padding easily to a halt near the tail of the group the two predators stand with silent, haunting eyes while others gather. Circinae can only hope that sensibility would guide whoever chose to stay - that and a healthy sense of self-preservation.