Bargain (OPEN/PLOTISH!)

[Sivoncé™]

Strangely enough, Lyell grew calm as Iver dove into his tirade. Previously, it was he who had ranted with anger and bitterness, but it was as if the old comrades were doing each other a favor -- allowing one's emotions to flow while the other waited for their turn. Lyell smiled sadly at Iver, at what his poor old alpha had become. It was clear that Iver believed he was here to do the right thing, and that fighting was an absolute must, but Lyell knew otherwise. As Iver listed those who might die, Lyell's head began to shake.
"Every one of us will die if we fight. You don't realize how few Yozorans are left, Iver. I bet I can name all of them right now. Mary and Plum are just neophytes, then there's Slip, who's just a healer, me, Olive, Jolon, Shade, and Rochelle. And of course Pernille. Out of all of those, Jolon is the only one I would brand for rebellion. Rochelle and Pernille, I have no idea. And Olive and I are taking the kids and going as soon as we're done here." He wasn't sure at what point he'd made up his mind that they had to leave, but standing here, speaking with Iver, and realizing just how desperate things were, it all seemed suddenly more urgent than before. His pelt itched with unease -- he wanted them to run now.
And as far as Nightshade went, he didn't really believe what he heard Iver say. He was right -- love was a two-sided drama. He wondered, briefly, if Nightshade was somewhere, wondering if Iver had abandoned her. He doubted this, though; his first idea was most definitely right -- Blood Mist must have her, or she must be trapped in a world of other perils. The girl was a goner, whatever the case.
"That's not fair, Iver, and you know it," he growled in a low voice. Maybe the brute wouldn't realize he was still talking about Nightshade, but no matter. What's done was done.
"If it comes down to a fight, I guess whoever's left to fight with you will thank you for the help. But I'm not waiting around until I can't save my family anymore."

[mudmudmud]

Straightening up his poster as the two alphas emerged from their hiding, Humpfry felt pride surge through him. Finally, Aerowyn's pack was going to be great. For so long they had crawled in the dirt, killing and slaughtering just to keep up the illusion that they posed a threat. Now, with the Yozorans quaking under their paws, they would rise and rule again.

Rochelle's eyes grew wide as she heard the Blood Mist alphess's declaration. Though she wasn't quite the violent type, a wave of rage overcame her. Her claws gripped the dirt desperately, fighting back the urge to leap forward and rip all three Blood Mist wolves apart. As her teeth ceased their grinding, she found a word or two spilling from her throat. "No..."
The first plea was only a whisper, the second closer to a scream. "You can't do this, you can't just take over. You're evil, vile, destructive! This goes against everything we stand for."
Glancing into the sky, she gritted her teeth again. Where are you?

[Sivoncé™]

Olive's world took a sudden shift. She blinked rapidly, but the nightmare vision before her failed to disintegrate. While Rochelle burst out in defiance on Assyria, eyes latched on the Blood Mist alphess, Olive's wide-eyes locked onto the form of their alpha. Or what had once been their alpha. Bain, with the skull of another wolf over his features. A tremor passed through her spine, and she forced herself to resume breathing.
How and when had this happened? Where were they when their alpha had been morphed into a monstrosity. Jolon had been right about his accusations, he'd been right all along, but Olive had a bitter sense that it was far, far too late for them to heed his warnings. This didn't just happen now, she realized with a wave of horror. He's been like this for moons, and we didn't even know. It might've been Assyria's doing, but part of her doubted it. As her eyes bore into the Blood Mist leader, she saw the worshipful way she looked to what was once Bain. At what point had Bain reached madness? Their absence from the last battle took on a whole new meaning.
He wasn't protecting us. We were being groomed and prepared for the master plan.
She had half a mind to tell Rochelle to shut up because nothing they said would matter, but bit her tongue and said nothing at all.
Her entire life was crumbling around her.
Get Mary. Get Plum. Get Lyell. Get out.

Assyria's eyes danced across the pitiful, squealing figure of a Yozoran in dissent with her plan. False shock passed her features and she met the Yozoran's eyes with wide, surprised ones of her own. "Oh no -- you've sadly mistaken me, Miss. If you listen carefully, you'll hear I'm not at all referring to any takeover whatsoever. In fact, such a thing would be a painful waste of brave warriors and promising young ones. In fact, we Blood Mists admire your courage and tenacity. You were wiser than the others, in staying out of the last battle, to preserve your own welfare. What I am proposing is that, since bloodshed has never led us anywhere, we cease the fighting. And since the only true way of ending the fighting is joining one another, I believe it would be wise to do so. While I resent your foul words to me, Miss, I understand them to be nothing more than the product of generations of prejudice against my people. However, I am here to seek peace, and my proposal to your alpha is that we became partners rather than enemies or allies -- that we work we work together for the greater good of everyone. And really, what's the harm in that? Isn't that what we all want?"

[featherswift]

He couldn't believe it, his own pack was turning down his proposal to fight for their way of life. Before he could take it all in, two figures left the alpha's den. A growl rumbled through his throat throughout the whole speel. Hadn't he told them? Sure, Bain was actually allowing them a say, but he didn't like it at all, not with Assyria all delighted.

Her voice echoed through the air and he noticed his pack's emotions in turmoil as she talked of the past. He wasn't one to be rude, but this had gone too far. Finally, one of his packmates barked at her and looked to the skies for protection. Assyria apparently didn't like it and talked it right down. As if she could calm down the pack with words of the past. She knew nothing of Yozoran pack, no matter the history of hers. She wasn't the old leader, she was the daughter, one hungry for power with no wit to actually help her.

Having enough, Jolon stepped in front of Rochelle, as if his body could protect her ears from the words bubbling up from Assyria's hate. "No, it's not. We cannot acquire peace from a Blood Mist like you. If anything the past has taught us, your kind is untrustworthy and shouldn't be part of any deal," he growled loudly with venom. His eyes burned with hatred and the fire of rebellion. If she thought this would be easy, she would have to think again. Jolon wasn't letting his pack be controlled by the enemy, one that was pure evil and from hell itself.

"Assryia how do you know that we were the wiser ones staying out of the battle, and not just like all the other packs? Who says we stayed out of the battle? In the Golden Ones eyes, Bain stayed out of it, but we didn't. Our hearts were beating with the others, even if we were lengths from them," Jolon barked.

Bain's image sickened him at the moment, wearing that skull of madness. He'd seen the alpha adorn it upon his head before at night and that had sparked everything for him. He wasn't in shock from the information, he knew it and expected it. Yozran pack was small, but his heart wasn't and neither were theirs. They were known for being sneaky, well it was time to use that skill to the max.

[Sivoncé™]

Assyria let out a dry chuckle. All these poor wolves were doing was talking in circles. She wondered if they'd ever stop and realize their own follies. Underneath her coat of calm, she wanted to wring their necks. They could spout off all they wanted about how she was filthy Blood Mist but they'd never stop and think 'that's racist'.
"But why Jolon? Why is it a crime for Blood Mist to hate the other packs, but it is not a crime for the packs to hate Blood Mist? Because Blood Mist started it?" There was something of sincerity ringing in Assyria's voice now. They all took her for a she-wolf ruled by ambition and power, and in some aspects she was. What the Yozorans had underestimated was her passion and conviction in her beliefs. As she spoke this time, she spoke unrehearsed; she spoke with emotion.
"And while your hearts were wishing for my death, my heart was beating here, with you. Kill me, torture me, do whatever you like, but I'll still come back, and I won't let hatred stain my eyes the way it has stained yours. You think you're the only one Golden Wolf looks after? Golden Wolf created Blood Mist just the way it is. We've never changed our name or forsaken our own divine creation. What in Hell's name makes you think you're the only children of God? What justification do you have for wanting to wipe out an entire ancient people just because you're entertained in hating us? You swear you have to regard for the past, Jolon, but you're living in it. Has it ever occurred to you that Blood Mist wants to wipe out the packs because, as it would seem, you're bent as hell in getting rid of us the moment we get here?"
Eyes sweeping across the other wolves, Assyria's face was suddenly charged with a new determination.
"I propose the name for the new pack would be Golden Mist in honor of the Golden Wolf."

With dread, Olive realized she'd actually listened to the she-wolf's speech. Staring at Assyria now, with determination in her crimson eyes, she felt an ounce of pity for the Blood Mist femme. It was not enough to be called support, but she did feel sorry for the femme. Assyria wasn't pure -- she was still bloodthirsty -- but there was now evidence that the she-wolf actually believed in something other than ripping out throats. But that would never be good enough for anyone, not even Olive. However truthfully Assyria believed in the Golden Wolf, she would never believe her peaceful preaching was supported by the whole of Blood Mist. The most vicious of them would abandon her and her regime if there wasn't some catch in all of this.

Autumn watched in growing alarm as the scene unfolded before her. She forced herself to stay rooted in her hiding place; she could only intervene if it came to fight, or if Jolon was directly in trouble. Golden Mist, eh? Assyria's words made her uncomfortable. When she talked like that, killing her would only make her a martyr. And then she would reincarnate in a week or so and be a Jesus-figure for coming back to life from death and persecution. She's playing this too good, Autumn groaned inwardly. Where was the hateful, Fireflight-slaying Assyria she'd seen at the battle?
If this were the Destinians, it would be a totally different story...

[mudmudmud]

Listening to the debate with growing irritation, Rochelle's claws continued to dig small holes in the ground beneath her. She took a step in front of Jolon, not to be upstaged. Being the weak link was not her cup of tea, and that was quite apparent from the defiant stance she took before the Blood Mist ruler. If she was to step just a few feet closer, she would be within slashing distance. Letting out a scoff, her brows furrowed. "That's not even the idea, Assyria. You are so focused on getting sympathy that you can't even see your true purpose here. You don't want us just to make peace or praise our Gods. You want us so you can be powerful, and that happens to be against every single thing I have ever believed in. You could be a Grey, Black, White, or Silver Mist, Yozoran, Sheeran, Siverian, or Destinian. That doesn't change the fact that you are cruel, vile, selfish, and bloodthirsty."

In a huff, she sat, a cloud of dust rising as her tail hit the ground. She took a deep breath and looked into Assyria's eyes, perhaps searching for weakness or a true threat. "I refuse to let you and your servants take the name of Golden Mist in vain. You just want to play God. Do what you want to me, Assyria, but I'll be damned if I allow you to mess with my beliefs."

[Sivoncé™]

Rage crossed the face of the Blood Mist alphess, but not a rage that was so uncontrolled and overwhelming as her Yozoran enemies so supposed. It was the rage of a she-wolf who had a long way to go and much to learn, but was trying her damnedest to see the silver lining. Eyes boring into Rochelle, she addressed her with her head held high and her voice strong as ever.
"I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've ever met until this day. And seeing as we haven't, I don't see how you can claim to know anything about my character at all. In fact, I think you're making me into my mother, and I can tell you right now, I am NOT Babylonia and I never want to be Babylonia. I have been leader of Blood Mist for perhaps a moon or so, so, again, you have no grounds to judge me. And as far as "your" beliefs go, religion is not something that is owned, it is shared."
She took a step forward, her first break from Bain's side. She moved slightly closer to Rochelle, eyes never leaving the wolf she spoke directly to, though her words were for the whole of the pack.
"You want to know who I really am? I'm the girl whose mother and alpha threw her into Verlust's Guard when I was barely neophyte and knew nothing about how to defend myself. I'm the girl who fought the Yozoran wolf known as Torn. I'm the girl he tried to save when he realized just how young I was, but by then it was too late to save me. I'm the girl who was killed by a Yozoran warrior, and yet returned to make peace with his pack because I know damned well he was a good wolf! I'm the girl who didn't give up on her birth pack even though they sent me to my death on more than one occasion! And I'm the girl who stands here before you, not backing down, trying to make a difference between our packs because I never want to see another little girl like me!" Her eyes flashed to Mary and Plum, the youngest Yozorans assembled. "I never want to see another little girl thrown into a war she's too young to understand. I never want to see that little girl die again and have her enemy suddenly try to save her only to realize it was too late."
Her eyes shifted back to Rochelle.
"That is my purpose!"

[featherswift]

Well shoot. Assyria had finally seen him, but didn't give a dang. So what, he had revolutionary words, but nothing seemed to faze her. How did she even know his name? That was what freaked him out, but her words were utterly hopeless. So what, she knew her past and viewed it how she wanted so it was warped. He was pretty sure the pack's had warped the past too, it's just what happened. First Trianna, and now Assyria say he has nothing on them, but it just frustrated him more. They made it seem like they were perfectly innocent, but they weren't. Blood Mist didn't have to be evil, but the point that Assyria had just fought in the battle and helped murder more comrades in arms with the idea of taking over proved his own point.

Then Assyria said something that made him completely dumbfounded, she suggested alliance pack's name to be Gold Mist. It felt wrong to the very core of his bones. He couldn't help it, his maw opened completely in surprise. When Rochelle stepped in front of him, he snapped out of it and his body went rigid as it shifted into attack mode. He couldn't take much more of this idiocy and he felt as if he might lose it and run to snap Assyria's neck right then. Instead, a growl of pure hatred rattled his form and echoed around the clearing. His opinion was prominent now and everyone would know just how made he was at this situation.

Jolon stepped to the side of Rochelle as she spoke everything that had been screaming in his head at Assyria's response. The leader of Blood Mist seemed to lose it at this and he grinned inside. Rochelle seemed to side with him. At least one Yozoran was willing to stick up to Blood Mist.

His eyes hardened as he took in Assyria and then they shifted to Bain, the one who had made their clan weak from the inside. Their old leader would've said no right off the bat, but Bain's secret was prominent now as the skull claimed his head. Jolon began lightly chuckle as his hackles raised. "Then why are you even proposing something that could hurt the innocent even when you are the threat in the first place? I don't care about your past Assyria, your actions are what counts now. We all know your conniving heart, but it's Bain that sickens me and makes me want to raise my fangs against his monarchy."

At that, he shifted his eyes towards the Yozoran Alpha and raised his tail, denouncing his leadership status in his eyes. "You aren't even Bain, you're a monster," he growled.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Velvet red curtains shifting aside the stage, Houdini and his bride soaked in the shocked chorus of their audience. Petrified? Most certainly, most were. But his heart bathed in it, fed from the surprise like a hungering leech. It wasn’t the attention, nor the sense that all hell was about to erupt beneath their paws, but the knowledge that they were reaching a new threshold. It was a solution, finally a cure to the insanity plaguing the packs for so long! How long had they warred—with Blood Mist, with one another, and for what? An illusion of indestructible Yozoran pride? But now that the wells of self-importance had evaporated under their tongues, perhaps they would listen, and they would understand. He was doing this for them— for the Yozorans, for Blood Mist, for every pack and individual wolf in the forest. No more wars, no more hate. No more blinding facades of knowledge in the face of prejudice. There was so much good to be done.
Hades stood, the masked gargoyle silent as stone in his attentiveness. Evidently, some were not pleased with the subsequent announcement, and a calmness washed between his sockets. This was to be expected; there were those who had a thinner capacity for acceptance than others. Even Bain was known to disapprove of Blood Mist in his youthful splendor, and yet, here they all were. The enlightened walking among the yet-to-be-saved.
One of the wolves addressed him, and Hades recognized the invitation to speak. To attempt to deliver these wolves from their ignorance. Coolly, and yet with an authoritative volume powerful enough to reach all the ears of the clearing, the creature weaved his response.
[glow=maroon,2,300]“…Jolon, is it? While I do not exactly accept your views as my own, you do make the fine case that we have not been properly introduced. Where have my manners gone today? My calling is Hades. The former Yozoran Alpha, Bain, has appointed me responsible for the wellbeing of this pack. I apologize, comrades, for not ascending into full view of the pack for so long—there were complications in the transition of power, you see. But now, rest assured, we are in full agreement.”[/glow]
For some time, he wandered, addressing the pack as a whole. But, at this point, his attentions turned to one in particular.
[glow=maroon,2,300]“Jolon, you mark me a monster, and from physical reflection, I spare you certain blame. But beyond this crown, what have these claws shed worth damning?
“These fangs have stolen two lives—a pack wolf and a Blood Mist wolf. An accidental death, and a righteous death, or so it would seem. Gaze upon this noble crowd; are they not soldiers, too? Have they not shed blood, and yet are somehow exempt from your hatred? If Blood Mist were truly the licentious spawn of lore that most have made them out to be, wouldn’t the death of one at my paws cancel the unfortunate demise of an enemy pack member? In that sense, I am neutral—my conscience is clear. How, then, can you brand me a monster, unless you first recognize the humanity of Blood Mist and accept their death in equal partition to ours. You are correct, Jolon… there is a darkness within me, which lies equally in all of us. Regardless of alliances, of pack allegiance, I have killed two wolves. But that does not dismiss the honesty of this sentiment.
“Monarchy, you preach. But this is no monarchy—it is revolution. A revolution of the mind, of the way these packs have viewed each other for so long! What do you propose, Jolon? That we exterminate them, like vermin? Need you all remember that it was the packs that instigated the recent assault on Blood Mist, and got themselves butchered because of it? What makes them less entitled to firm soil beneath their paws than us—their name? Their scent? Their mistakes? Their reputation?”[/glow]
Enthusiasm caught in his throat, warping his already distorted speech into an excited stream of possibilities. He searched the eyes of his denmates, even those who opposed him; the skull appeared to have melded into his head. Not a mask, a face. A true face.
[glow=maroon,2,300]“Wolves have long fallen to habit to judge others and not their own conscience. Yes, Blood Mist has murdered in the past. Yes, Blood Mist has been our enemy in the past—just as it has been our closest of allies. Need you all forget that our Sheeran neighbors are descended directly from Blood Mist lines? How can we accept the Sheerans, who fought valiantly alongside Verlust in the ages of old, and deny this new breed of Blood Mist an opportunity to reveal their new colors? You judge Assyria by her mother, her reputation, and dare not entertain that there is perhaps more than black blood sweeping through the Blood Mist line. There is a beating heart, just like you or mine, in every wolf in this valley. Mark them selfish, ambitious, treacherous, evil—but have any of you known them, or entertained befriending them? Is it not possible that these wolves, who share mothers and fathers and sisters and daughters and brothers and sons and lovers and heroes and fears and desires, lust for peace as well?”[/glow]
Lowered pitch of voice.
[glow=maroon,2,300]“Do not tempt me with accusations against their character. Who are you to claim knowledge of their agenda when your basis of trust lies in biased tales? The world is changing, friends. It always is, and always will. All we propose is that this future be shaped into something beautiful, something worth all these centuries of turmoil since the Golden Wolf first set paws on this earth. Leadership means little; utopia, on the other hand, is worth dying for. Brand me devil if you feel you must, but to brand an entire clan incapable of emotion or a desire for something more than devastation is but a prejudiced insult from a naïve soul. You want to deny an offer of peace? Then it appears it is you, truly, that lusts for carnage.”[/glow]

[Destiny]

There was a very long pause where Iver did not speak. In fact, he was not even turned towards Lyell. Moments after his 'old friend' had finished speaking, Iver had turned his attention towards the bracken from which they had emerged. Taking several painstakingly quiet steps in that direction, and being sure to remain out of sight, he tensed, focusing all his energy on listening. Of course, he still missed bits and pieces of the conversation, but it was clearer, and understandable. It did not concern him, though. No further than he had already been. It did, however, change the game plan to a degree. Things would now depend on how this little meeting unfolded. It could get rather interesting.

He turned to Lyell, momentarily, still straining to hear the intense discussion. The rebellion. "Then I will protect you, and your family. Or, in the very least, I will bring you somewhere safe. My own den is large, well hidden, and there are few loners who traipse through my territory. It is not vast - but it will suffice for the time being." He had come here to help, and there was no way he was going to let Lyell go off on his own without a fight. "Come with me now. Assyria won't stay forever, and Bain - or.. Hades, as it were. Not entirely sure if that is actually Bain; the voice is.. Off." He took a few moments to be puzzled by this, or thoughtful, more-like. "And any other wolf in there who doesn't want to be apart of this. If you don't want to fight, I won't force you. I'll go alone. But I refuse to see the kin of my friends, my pack, be taken by this.. She-devil." The word was very near spat.

[Sivoncé™]

This time, she didn't have to defend herself. Her honor, pride, and purpose needed no further protection than the words Hades had spoken. Eyes burning with the passion of a thousand suns, the music Hades wove into her ears brought her morale right back up to its original place: overflowing with enthusiasm. She and Hades were one instrument for the same purpose now, refusing to give up until they had accomplished what they'd set out to accomplish. And as he addressed his pack, a victorious smile flowered on her maw.
They would win. No matter what it took.

"T-Torn?"
No way, it can't be true. But where the hell else would she know that name? Olive didn't remember the last time she'd seen her brother, Torn, Slayer of Assyria. Slayer of Assyria -- her big brother, Torn.
And then Olive took a step forward and broke her guise of silence.
"Jolon, Rochelle, listen to me if you can't listen to them. My brother, Torn, killed a pup. He killed a child because she was forced to fight a battle she didn't understand. Now tell me, is killing a child no longer a crime because of where you come from? We are just as much a threat to them as they are to us! And what's more, two Blood Mist wolves gave a lovely she-wolf to this pack. They couldn't raise their own daughter because of a battle we fought with them. So, in a gesture of peace, we took her in as our own, and we raised her as a Yozoran. Her name was Saskia, and she was a sister to me. She gave birth to a new generation of Yozorans, and nearly all of her children have been murdered because we continue to fight Blood Mist when it's clear that they no longer desire to fight us! So by damning Blood Mist, you damn Saskia, and you damn her children -- you damn Autumn, Kasparr, Trianna, Shiro, Lyra, Rafael, and Neveria. We trained them as our own neophytes before they were killed in a senseless war. Tell me, are they evil, too?"
Her eyes, brimming with tears now, turned to her daughters.
"I never want my children to go through this. It kills me to know that they've had to be a part of this at all. I won't stand for it anymore. I don't see how wanting to destroy Blood Mist would aid in peace; destruction is only that -- destruction. We'd be fools not to see the opportunity here."
Swallowing hard, she turned to take a good look at Hades and Assyria. Hades' skull disconcerted her, but strangely enough, it no longer made her reel in disgust. Perhaps it was the crown of a prophet, or a savior. No matter what their names or faces, their words rang with reason.
"I will be a part of the new Golden Mist pack."

Autumn's blood went cold. She'd listened diligently, all the while drowning in dread with every word, until now. Now that Olive had spoken, she didn't want to listen anymore. She didn't want to hear how Jolon lashed back at her in anger. She didn't want to see the look on his face when he realized the implication of what Olive had just said:
Autumn, Kasparr, and all of their fallen siblings were, by blood, half Blood Mist.
Tears sparked in her eyes before she had a chance to stop them. She'd never thought to tell him. Most of the time, she didn't remember it herself. But Olive's speech hit home.
Because, despite the fact that everything inside of her recoiled at anything Jolon and Assyria had to say, she could listen to Olive; and to her dismay, everything Olive had said was true. Whenever Autumn did consider her Blood Mist heritage, or whenever she'd asked her mother about it, it was something she took pride in. Pride because, by adopting Saskia into the Yozorans, Blood Mist and the Yozorans had made a strange sort of peace with each other. Blood Mist had died, but the Yozorans had kept their descendants alive and well. They had overcome a great barrier; Torn had failed to save Assyria, but by saving Saskia, they'd redeemed themselves.
Shaking, Autumn closed her eyes tight and waited for Jolon's hate to spill.

At last, they could come to an agreement. Lyell, smiling sadly, nodded slowly in agreement. "We'll leave with you, but that's all I can promise, Jolon. We won't be eager to put ourselves back in peril after just getting out of it. But, maybe after we've regained our fighting spirits, we'll be beside you in battle, too. Until then, though, there's nothing much else we can do. We'll meet you at the edge of the territory--" At the sight of Iver listening so intently, Lyell grew suddenly alert and alarmed. He, too, stopped and listened to the conversation taking place just a little ways away from them. What he heard shocked him more than anything else had thus far on this day of destruction and distress.
Olive was speaking. His Olive was speaking...and she was speaking in defense of the enemy.
In wordless desperation, he dipped his head in a silent farewell to Iver, eyes suddenly glazed in fear and confusion. He slipped away into the undergrowth and re-entered the Yozoran Camp, slowly padding to stand where Olive had only moments before, when she'd been content to sit on the sidelines.
And as he listened, he felt himself split right down the middle.
We won't be running away then, will we?

[Njack]

Slip was there. Had been there for a while.

Listening.

He wasn't an assertive wolf. When Bain came out with that skull on his head, Slip said nothing. When Jolon rose to challenge Bain, Slip said nothing. Or was it Hades now? Bain seemed to have gone crazy, or something. A jolt of guilt. Perhaps he should have seen this coming. When Olive announced her decision to join a new "Golden Mist" pack, following Hades' new vision, Slip said nothing.

But then, he did.

"... I am not against peace. But I think that our autonomy should prove to be our most important asset." Slip paused. The words, they were just a feeling he had, so he said them. He'd have time to regret everything he said later. "I am a healer, or should be." Faint regret at that. He'd not done enough to learn the healing ways, he thought. "So you may see me a traditionalist. Forgive me if I regale you all with a little history... I am but a young wolf, so I recite only what I have learned."

He took a breath. It wasn't normal, for him to speak so much. Didn't feel normal. "The packs are allied, and they have been, throughout the ages, save for the first war of legend. Like others have said, they have worked together for the good of all. The packs have not combined, though. Despite the occasional scuffle, we work best this way."

Slip dipped his head slightly at the Blood Mists, at his own packmates. "I say, let us have peace, by all means. But let us not give up our autonomy."

And he stepped back. He would say no more.

[featherswift]

((Siv I don't think Lyell was talking to Jolon...))

In response to his aggression to 'Hades' it seemed he had spurred the old alpha to direct his attention towards him and open his maw for the first time. Sheer complete lies warped with truth poured out of his maw it seemed to Jolon. He could see the vile creature writhing in his delight at actually getting to say something to his once pack. This thing wasn't a wolf, it was evil, it was a reincarnation of hell itself. The Yozoran could barely believe that Bain had mutated into this disgusting being bent on allying Blood Mist to their pack. Surely, he should have been in charge of the Hellfirians and not the Blood Mist.

Throughout the whole spiel, Jolon didn't lower his tail, didn't waver in anyway of showing what he thought about Hades being a leader. Or how the male put it, Bain appointed "... me responsible for the wellbeing of this pack. I apologize, comrades, for not ascending into full view of the pack for so long—there were complications in the transition of power, you see. But now, rest assured, we are in full agreement." He made it seem like he wasn't Bain at all and mentally he wasn't. If the pack was freaked out now, they should have seen him yowling in pain as the thing tore through his mind or when he battled with blood coating his pelt as thick as water runs. They hadn't seen the atrocity, the horror, that lay in front of them demanding their will be bent to him. Jolon had and little did he know that Autumn was close by seeing it again.

Hades had the exact thing that everyone had been telling him. He'd had enough! Saying how bias history was and using that to condemn others was wrong, yeah he got it. Only problem, he wasn't doing that at all! These wolves were complete idiots if they thought he could be easily swayed into their views by saying how wrong he was. Down deep he knew what he was doing was right. He didn't have any misgivings about this being an abomination in their pack's history. Was he lusting for carnage? No, and who would unless they were sick in the head like Bain apparently was and Assyria who was raised to be deranged. Jolon wanted the pack's at peace and combining two opposing forces was going to make the so called 'carnage'. He felt like spitting at Hades paws right then and dare, but didn't get the chance because Olive came up beside him.

Her whole demeanor showed just how scared and upset she was about what was happening. He listened politely, but his face became graver and graver. What she was saying was history he'd never known, probably kept from him because he was foreign born. He must seem like such an idiot for standing up for them without that tasty bit of information. Jolon's eyes widened a bit when Olive poured out Autumn, Kasparr, and Trianna had Blood Mist lineage. None had bothered to tell him that and it made even more sense now why Trianna had been so pro-Bain with him. Kasparr and Autumn were different though and they were willing to go against their half-blood for the good of the packs. No hate spilled from his maw for the two of his friends, the only hate that would ever do so at this moment would be towards Hades and Assyria.

His eyes softened at Olive, understanding why she was saying this now. Her pups were in danger if they rebelled, but that wouldn't stop him from doing so. When she said she'd join though, he looked at her in surprise. Golden Mist would destroy her family even more! It wouldn't be as great as she thought it would be and it would be possibly the death of her pups.

Slip finally spoke up to the pack and what he said was what he was going for. Jolon dipped his head in gratitude to the Yozoran male then he opened his maw to Olive. "I understand and I'm sorry your family has to go through such hard times, but this proposed alliance may hurt it more." He spoke softly for the words were only meant for Olive and those around them, including Slip.

Then he turned towards the two 'leaders' with malice showing in his eyes. "Hades, you ask me who I am to challenge against character? Well I'll tell you, I'm a proud wolf in the pack called Yozoran, where the Golden Wolf reigns in our daily lives. I was taught to learn from our past and that's what I did, I learned. You on the other hand took over Bain's body and assumed control with absolutely no past to shape you because you are just part of his insane mind." he barked and shifted his eyes around the group. "I don't know about you, but from my understanding Yozoran pack isn't very good at keeping an alliance with Blood Mist wolves. What does this mean? Well, Assyria and you will be causing the carnage on two packs that frankly have no leadership. Blood Mist dukes out over their leadership constantly from what I heard and Hades, you're not Bain so you're not our leader in the Golden One's eyes," he said with a booming voice that echoed throughout the clearing. His voice was full of passion, trying his hardest to rally the pack to support him, but right now Rochelle and Slip seemed to be the only one on his side. That wouldn't stop him though. Someone would have to kill him to stop his words of his own revolution, one against these tyrannical leaders.

[Destiny]

The situation was morphing into something more unexpected then a caterpillar who suddenly becomes a bumblebee instead of a butterfly. Had he not come in this direction with back-up plan after back-up plan stirring in the depths of his skull, with bits and pieces of possible plans which could be thrown together and torn and sewn as he saw fit depending on the situation beating about in his head. Plan A had failed, as things were far worse than he had at first expected. Plan B had was not, at the moment, going to work either, as Lyell's mate had seen to that, though perhaps accidentally. If he went for Plans C or D, then either he would die today, as would others, or the Yozoran pack would be damned unless Jolon could convince them to rebel. Even then, there could be carnage.

No. He needed to do more than that. Plan E occurred to him the best course of action. However, with Assyria still within the camp it could prove most fatal and futile. Therefore, Iver moved like a shadow into the brush nearer the camp, slipping deep into a thicket where he was not, still, in sight, but near enough that the conversation was clearer still, and very well hidden should anyone else come this way. He waited on Jolon's next move. On Hades' and Assyria's response. He waited, and he hoped against all doubt that his task could be completed, or at least furthered, before the day was out.

[mudmudmud]

Rochelle watched the proceedings with a clenched jaw. She heard none of what was said or how things were being discussed. Her mind had shut down at the thought of normal, common wolves like herself becoming part of "Golden Mist". If anything, the mere idea made her skin crawl. She felt as if she needed to pray, repent, and throw herself over a cliff in sacrifice to apologize to her ancestors. Who were these wolves, returned from Hellfire, that dared call themselves nobles? Angels, even? Quietly, she stood. "I refuse to be a part of it. I am truly sorry Bain, or whatever is left of you, but I must leave the Yozorans. I cannot watch some devilish wolf brainwash my friends and family and call herself an angel." With that, she began to calmly walk, tail held high, out of the camp.

For just a moment, she hesitated. After just a passing second, she pushed past a dark figure that was entering the camp and vanished. The figure was a wolf, or what seemed to remain of one. It was covered in dark fur, its coat matted, dirty, and missing in some places. The one small area on his body that wasn't a dirty black was a white marking right above its eyes, stained gray by dust and debris. A splash of brilliant red marked a fresh wound that extended from just below its left ear to the opposite side of its mouth. The eye that wasn't swollen shut from the wound was an icy blue color, speckled with flecks of white and silver. In fact, it was the spitting image of one that had died many, many moons before.

Though the figure was tired and stumbled often, it looked almost as if it was trying to not draw attention to its entrance. It slunk to the edge of the clearing nearest to the Blood Mist wolves and Hades, looking over the wolves as if it could not find the protagonist in this strange story, everyone slowly showing their true colors and becoming a villain. Sitting, it muttered under its breath in a crackly, dry voice. "My mother would not approve..."