nothing ventured, nothing gained

If a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound?

Nestled beside the shelter of a fallen tree like a hidden young fawn still decorated in rippling dapples of light, Vervain woke with a small start and quiet, sharp gasp. As quickly as her head snapped up from where it had been tucked beside her ribs, she froze except for the large ears atop her head, giving a sharp few swivels as her chestnut toned nostrils flared to take in the scents on this place she'd found herself in. 

She didn't remember being here, didn't even remember going to sleep. No dreams, even, only darkness just before she woke. Strange. But it seemed that there was no immediate danger to herself, so Viv carefully unfolded her long legs to lift her slender frame, caution in every smooth movement. 

Of all places to be teleported to, this wasn't the worst. The tall trees provided welcome cover. If she had to put words to it, she would say it reminded her of home, though she did not like to think of such things. Too many bad memories. 

Vervain dipped her head to pick linger dead leaves and grasses from her short, clean coat, swiping rogue tufts of blond with her tongue as her ears kept watch of her surroundings. She could try to learn more, once she was tidied up. But Viv didn't get much time to herself-A snap and rustle of foliage beneath feet had the doe freezing again, flicking both ears forward toward the sound and muscles beneath sleek fur bunching, ready to send her feather-light frame springing away should she feel threatened.
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Célnes couldn't say she saw too many times where a doe strayed farther then the rest. Though the forest, generally safe, protected by the shields of tree from hungry outsiders, and normally safe from the wolves inside.. There was a comfort to them, so she assumed, that they were relatively contempt being within the confinements of the trees. Though even then, the herd tended to stay together.

When she saw one that looked slightly different, the Queen didn't think too much upon it. Approaching with ease, her tail swinging side to side, a pleasureful smile upon her face as she looked at the other, "My, I would think the High Elk would be gracing me with a meal, hornless and alone.. Though perhaps you should go back to the herd."

Of course, while self-proclaimed as Queen of the Elk, there was never a time where they actually communicated with them. As languages mixed between, she never knew how to speak theirs, and likewise, there was no attempt from the ungulates. Words were more of self-talking, an amused drawl to her speech as she thought so. How she chuckled and watched the other, a doe so alone - hopefully her packmates would leave alone.

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A wolf.

Vervain could practically feel the tension shudder through the slender bones of her legs, feel the ends of sensitive nerves crackle with alarm. Wolves weren't the most dangerous of predators. Not lone ones, anyway, like this one. Viv was not blessed with the sharp antlers of her species' males nor the weight to crush skulls with like her bigger distant deer cousins but she did have speed and agility, small but sharp obsidian cloven hooves. It wouldn't be the first time she'd had to run for her life. 

So much had changed in these last few months. How she missed her brother. Everything was better before he was gone. Safer, happier.

She shifted her weight anxiously as the wolf spoke, blue eyes widening, not a fan of the dangerous, lazy, over-confident drawl that dripped from the predator's jaws, but her ears pricked of their own accord at the words themselves.

"I-I'm not a meal...At least I don't..." Viv allowed one merled hind leg to take a tentative step back, all other three hooves staying rooted to her former resting place. "I don't recall being...sent here by anyone, let alone a...ah...High Elk?"
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Color her surprise when the deer had spoke, Célnes had to take an audible step back as her pumpkin eyes flourished in surprise. She knew at the moment it was a holy scenario, something that within Déorwine culture would be awed and bowed toward, for one that can finally understand them. Like a bridge between the Gods, where when the Déorwine's could never talk to them so - finally was the chance. Though not antlered, the tool that is believed to mark who is an Apostle directly to the He, with a thousand horns, and this doe bared none.

"The High Elk is God to the Deer, and for us wolves of the Déorwine culture - 'friend of the elk' in translation, we are of no harm to you." But a white lie, for they do hunt specific deer, that look exactly like her. Those without antlers are often given the greenlight, a sacrifice to the wolves who protect the deer. A meal for them to feast if they so try, but at the same time, an Apostle could stop them at any moment in time. Though in this case, she was very.. Very special.

"Perhaps destiny for you to arrive at my pack."

Such words of eloquent to hide the surprise and suspicions she held at the moment. Célnes doesn't pray to often to the God itself, respecting traditions, but not all the rules that follow. She never had a sign from them either, like a silence, and even Graeme's words were thrusted aside like a rotten piece of meat, something she'd never believe. Yet at the same time there was a day she truly believed divine punishment was given, a curse of sorts, for the white elk that stabbed her and her brother.. Only she, however, came to light. At the same time a part of her doubts, was it the High Elk's doing, or but a coincidence? She held so many questions, and without a proper resoluation.. It was buried deep within. Only what came forward, was her hatred toward the color of white.

There was minor imperfection against this particular doe, whites that do cross the beige that they desire.. The culture always says to hunt the pure white elk, but to the bicolored was but a mystery. Stripped of color yet a deer - it was assumed she was in the stages of forgiveness.

A part of Célnes was scared.. Perhaps this too, was her time of judgement from the High Elk.

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The wolf changed, languid and already imagining Viv's blood on her teeth to...shocked. Reverent didn't quite fit, though Vivian could hear threads of it in the wolf's tone, but confusion was visible. 

She kept her expression wary, but allowed her frame to relax slightly. Curiosity, or foolishness, or believing the wolf when she seemed to stop seeing Vervain as a meal. 

These woods housed a God, and a pack of wolves to worship Vervain's chestnut cousins, who would not harm her kind. 

Vervain had to admit there was something terribly, ridiculously lucky to be a doe dropped into existence in welcoming woods with her kind nearby and predators that would not lay tooth on her. She could only hope the Deorwine did not lie, in the hopes of tricking the doe into range of bone-crushing jaws. "Per...Perhaps. I do not...recall coming here. Only waking."

She swiveled an ear, back, then forth. "You...Your pack, never hunts deer?" Not even back home, with her standing as heiress, was there a life free of threat from her fanged subjects.
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"We do occasionally, on special occasions." She could not lie, especially as it was the status given by the High Elk itself, and if the time came, the other would see their brethren draw blood, "my ancestors made a deal long ago with the High Elk, an allowance to hunt those without antlers,, the cursed, or on a holiday. Selective, but in return we protect his own." As so the story goes, but she wasn't sure how it truly went. In return to protect the herd that prosper in forests, did the High Elk grant meals to survive in order to defend. A mark to show what was alright, those without the holy antlers to communicate with him, and then the time would be right. 

She wasn't too sure how the Wintertide Jubilee started, or what occurred to be able to hunt one sacred elk.. But she wouldn't question it too much. It was a precious holiday afterall.

"We would not hunt one that directly speaks with us - it was but a sign from Him, a holy meeting."

An assurance though, that not even Célnes would hunt. Not only was it bad taste for your victim to plead mercy, but she genuinely felt there would be wrath from He with a thousand horns. Even though they were marked with unholy colors, the access to mutual speech enough made the Queen wonder if forgiveness was in place, and now favored.

She truly wish at the moment her cousins Rohesia and Calhoun were still alive, maybe then they would read the signs that were given. She was never adept to knowing them, and often lied her way through what was seen for her own planning.

"Pray tell, what is your name?"

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Special occasions. 

Viv did not speak the wolf's language as smoothly as her tutors would have liked but she couldn't be more thankful that she at least learned how to listen to her lupine subjects, even if she did not always have the words to speak clearly to them. Her life was upended and destroyed before she had the chance to practice more. 

Those without antlers sent a chill through her blood, but the Deorwine assured Vervain that her ability to speak the wolf's language marked her as holy. Untouchable. She lifted her chin a bit, straightening her posture somewhat but allowing the tension to ease from her posture. "I see."

Her name. Lest there be creatures here that knew of the Windflowers, she gave her alias, flicking her dark tail to dispel the last of the nervous energy coiled in her muscles. "Vivian. You may call me Viv. And yours, friend?"
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"The others will be aware of your presence if you take shelter here - but my rule does not extend beyond." It brought a chuckle to her so as the other seemed to relax, and raise just a bit. Such a meek one, that itself brought question if she was a holy apostle of the High Elk.. Though wolf-speak could not deny what was.. The whole existence of the one before her brought the Queen great troubles, for her religious side that she denied so hard, and the part that felt was true - with that came the thoughts of her holy retribution could soon come.

"I am Célnes Déorwine, Queen of Elkshire that rules this forest."

Though surely to appease one of them.. Despite the white they may have, it could cure a few sins that she held somewhat. A part of her was superstitious part of the religion, just as all believed some and not all, she used it how she saw fit. But born and raised, to the core of her bones would it remain.. And so was the deep-rooted racism that started to worsen as time went on. A day before would she wholly accept the white kin, but only a dislike burned from her.

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If she stayed. 

Deer brethren nearby and a deer worshipping pack of wolves. Viv couldn't think a scenario where she would want to leave, not while still confused about these lands she had arrived in. "This is where...I was...placed. It is...where I belong, I think." Vivian returned, softly, thoughtfully, a demure smile flitting across her fine-boned features at the wolf's chuckle. Not a noise she was used to hearing, or hearing and not bounding away from at first. 

Celnes Deorwine, the Queen of this forest. "It is a pleasure to make your..." The word escaped her. "To meet you, Queen. T...tell me about these...cursed? If you like?" She ought to know what sorts of her brethren were to be hunted if she was to stay. 
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"You are welcome to call me Célnes, as you are now one of us." In truth while she definitely cared of power and the like, formalities were only important when the situation needed so. She knew the with friendliness that came with her, so did the loyalty that followed. It was an appropriate move to be referred to normally by her packmates, but beyond the forest walls, she always prefers the nobility that came with her title, "welcome to our forest."

"Ah.. Them," her eyes wandered a bit before turning back to the other, "the High Elk strips the cursed of their color, resulting into a white hue. It is the belief they have sinned, and with enough prayer, He will forgive." Notably did her eyes turn toward the white that the other has. It wasn't quite as prominent as some, and definitely wasn't a pure, snow-white. Rather more beige in like, a definite sign of forgiveness and loved, for the wolfspeak that came.

"We turn away white wolves, and pure white deer are to be hunted. For they turned away from their God."

She was perhaps the only few that the Queen shared about this tidbit. Not too many were told about the distaste of the cursed color - or else she imagined the recruiting process would be so much longer. In due time she may share with the rest of the racism held within her family, but as long as she can turn away the white-kin, all was fine. It was peaceful life at the moment, besides a few troubles with unknown neighbors.

She was rather chatty at the moment. Surprisingly, perhaps it was the sheer shock-factor of a talking ungulate.

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Just Celnes, because Vivian was one of them. What a strange concept, that she now belonged as a contributor to this pack of wolves. Her mother would be appalled to know of it, would more than likely faint if she dared imagine what sort of deeds she would be expected to do, prey as one of the predators. Her brother, she was sure, would find it more amusing. He was always the fiercer one, the one of the twins Vivian thought might actually find themselves comfortable even in this situation. She was the meeker, more demure of the two, always had been.

She'd been apprehensive, imagining any number of complexities marking someone as cursed in this religion/pack she'd stumbled into, but it was actually almost laughably simple. 

White. A sign the bearer of such things was cursed by their god.

She didn't miss Celnes' gaze lingering on the off-white that cut through her brown and blond, and Viv closed her eyes briefly, taking a breath before turning her cool blue gaze to the wolf's fiery one. "I must appear...hypocritical to you...then." 

No antlers, no absence of the accursed alabaster, and yet, she spoke to them. 

Vervain considered this thought a second longer, before speaking. "Very few in this world are ...perfect,...and pure, yes? We can only...strive to be better." A risky statement to make so new to the Queen, and her beliefs. But she hoped it resonated with her.
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"Perhaps - though we believe in forgiveness with proper prayers. Even our own family are sometimes born with white, just as you say.. No one is perfect." Oh, but Célnes will strive for that persona. Perhaps it was why she hated her own religion for so long, for the cursed of the white brought down the glory that Kingslend could've had. So many wolves at the border, but so many turned away for not being favored.. Yet, she too now fell into the demise that was their racism toward the rest, even she could not stomach the pure white wolves now. So many visit, and so many turned away.

"But you, are quite difference. Someone that can speak our language is blessed by Him, and thus adored by not only Deorwine, but Him." a gospel of words.. Though truth to them.

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Viv flicked her ears slowly. "I see." Forgiveness would be nice. But she didn't say that. She wasn't without her sins, and it was almost poetic to stumble into a pack where the white from her pale-coated sire put those sins on display for everyone to bear witness to. It would be amusing if the threat of being eaten for that very white wasn't hanging over her head. Distant, but there. 

Blessed. She gave a delicate tilt of her head, the ghost of a small smile tugging at her maw. "I will do all that I can to be worthy of such a blessing." The sentiment was genuine, the emotion not over saturated in her tone but evident. 
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"You are his kin. He will bless you." Though cruely as the High Elk may seem, she knew little of the laws that concerned with the deer. Unable to communicate, she never truly know how they felt about the God. Rules may differ from wolf, to Elk.. The preferred love of He, with a Thousand Horns. She suspected despite the white the other may hold, she would be beloved. A true Apostle, like a holy descent to them all as she spoke to both kin.. A key-way to communicate with the Déorwine's saint.

"I will tell the rest to watch for you - the main herd remains in the middle of the forest." Upon welcoming Vivian, the Queen then directed her head toward further within the Elk's Crown. There the main herd may lay, and she truly was curious if the King, would accept her. The outcome was an unknown factor, but she couldn't imagine much would go wrong for the doe. Now if it was another male.. It may be different. Nonetheless, Célnes would need to tell her loyalists about the new face within the woods.

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fade?

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