She is restless--plagued by the mere prospect of her kin?s demise at the cruelest hands of the illness that wracked his feeble being, and although it is within the Elysius deity?s firm belief that a youthful death is admirable, she will not allow death the opportunity to snuff the life from his very veins. Therefore, she had discarded him within her temporary home in the south, ensuring that he was overseen by his littermates as she desperately sought some form of help, aimlessly picking through various herbs and vegetation in pursuit of something to alleviate his symptoms; alas, she is well-versed in the macabre art of war but has never received proper training in the medical department, and her attempts at pinpointing medication are futile. Thus, the wraith is left with no other option than to ask for help ( something she had always refrained from due to her pride ), and finds herself journeying northward--somewhere she had avoided since her return to these lands, unwilling to encounter the ice king she had previously sworn allegiance to. Though she does not flock to Glaciem, choosing instead to track their allies in hopes that someone might recognize her and offer their willing help for her selfless purpose. As she approaches Tortuga?s threshold, she halts respectfully at its borders, tilting her skull back to unleash a prompt summons for the queen, hoping that she will be met hastily for her mission is one that pleads for immediate completion.

Starting this new chapter in her life is equally exciting and terrifying. She wouldn't dare admit it to a soul- let alone the creature who helped get her here, but she's worried about her inadequacies as a mother. She plodded around the borders, her head filled with anxieties, when she heard a somewhat familiar voice. Her head lifted, and she mulled the sound over for a few moments, letting out a sigh, before she heeded towards the sound. As her ivory legs carried her towards it, she realized in a slight shock who the caller was. Artemis, a wolf, that once resided in Glaciem- before she stole the Valhallan throne. Roman had wondered what had become of her. Picking up her pace, she closed the distance at a graceful trot. With the border in her sights, and Artemis she slowed as she approached. At the border she would halt, a slight smile pulling at her jaws, and giving the other woman a slight dip of the head she would speak. "It's good to see you're alive and well, Artemis. What can I do for you?" Speech,

As the silence consumes her surroundings, the wraith finds herself ravaged with a concoction of apprehension and impatience, weight shifting anxiously between sinewy limbs as her hungry gaze scans the queen?s frozen keep in search of life. After what feels like hours and yet is only a few minutes, eager pupils devour the familiar physique of the Armada sovereign as she emerges from her icy crypt like a beacon of prosperity, bearing the potential solution to the Elysius? ailments upon proud shoulders. Briefly, the phantom scrutinizes the woman during her hasty approach ( or as hasty as a pregnant woman could manage to travel ), recognition striking her as she observes the intricate markings adorning the woman?s face--this was Roman Armada, a woman she had had the pleasure of acquainting herself with during her reign as Glaciem?s Overseer. The ghost of a smile encases her porcelain countenance as the queen addresses her politely, and yet, her problems are too great to maintain the benevolent facade she wishes to portray and vanishes almost as quickly as it had manifested. ?Same to you, your grace,? the phantom murmurs with as much warmth as she can muster, respect evident in her choice of title. She was hardly a submissive creature, and yet, she understood that she needed to get upon the queen?s good graces if she were to offer help, so certain changes were necessary. ?do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior jesus christ Do you know of the illness that has infiltrated these lands?? she inquires, her tone harboring the faintest trace of the distress she faced.

Roman doesn't really dwell on why Artemis didn't sit at the throne she had so viciously won. It isn't her business, though Roman is curious. She wants to ask, but forces herself silent- all can reveal itself in time. When Artemis speaks, her ears flick slightly, and she listens carefully to the woman's words. The illness that had ravaged the lands, had hit so close to home. It had nearly taken her very own life- but it had produced life as well. Shuffling her paws, she nodded. "Tortuga suffered it, as did every pack, I believe." Artemis didn't look sick, but perhaps she had a pack somewhere, or a family. Were they sick? "If you're sick... my healers can tend to you." She offered, concern draping her tones. She didn't scent sickness, but she was no healer. Perhaps the white woman was sick. Roman knew if you didn't treat it, that this sickness would drive you to the point of insanity. Hadn't she come close to insanity herself? Speech,

She waits with bated breath, dulled nails subconsciously raking against the icy earth in a futile attempt to soothe her frayed nerves, but it is of no use--her brother?s haggard state has left her on the brink of internal calamity. Familial devotion is what molds the phantom, and without them, she feels like nothing--has no purpose and no one to satisfy; she needs them and feels that they, in turn, require her presence if only to guide them. As the ice queen speaks her piece, the wraith?s attention fixates upon her every syllable, drinking in the words as if her very life depended on it--and in a way, it did. Brows furrow as the woman relays to her of the inconvenience the plague has caused within her own kingdom, and a slight frown tugs at her velveteen lips as the queen informs her that the packs are responsible for spreading this virus. This only causes further contempt towards Arcanum to flare within her chest and yet she cannot dwell upon this rage for long due to this paramount mission she has imposed upon herself, quickly surpassing the spur of fury in favor of the current circumstances. When the queen offers to treat her for an illness she does not harbor, her skull shakes from side to side, though the flicker of a gracious smile encumbers her countenance. ?I have not been contaminated; I am here in my brother?s stead. He has received this illness through Arcanum and I fear now that he is dying. I know nothing of healing and feel powerless to alleviate his anguish--his eyes bleed, it is terrifying,? she states, her vocals a desolate litany that betrays her composed exterior. ?I will do whatever is required--will give you anything you desire if you would let me know how to help him,? she vows, sincerity gleaming beneath her silver and violet gaze.

This epidemic had been cruel, the illness made little sense to those that it infected- confused them, drove her to anger. She is glad to hear that the wolf before her is indeed not affected, but concerned to hear that her brother is. She realizes then, how little she knows about Artemis. She didn't even know that the ivory woman had a family. Her ears flatten, as she Artemis speaks of the illness, offering to give her anything, to find out how to help her brother. What wolf would she be if she extorted a cure for a dying wolf for some sort of gain? Would the prize even then be worth it? Perhaps this is where she differed from her father, because she surely could see him taking full advantage of the crisis that Artemis found herself in. While, Roman's mother had taught her that a crisis should never go to waste- she found no need in extorting a life to further her means. "You don't have to give anything Artemis. I'll not extort a wish from you on the value of your brother's life. The cure- it was herbal. Three parts: alfalfa, horsetail, and Valerian root. I may have some in my den- from my last dose. If you would like to see it, so you know what to pick for him." She offers to run to fetch it, even though she's sure she could call a healer to her- to fetch it themselves. She doesn't know what she would do if it were one of her own siblings sick- but she can only imagine the situation that Artemis finds herself in now. Speech,

She expects to be met with demands, for although it is a selfish and unorthodox tactic for gain, the wraith knows that she would have seized the window of opportunity from one as desperate as she. And yet, the Armada queen is a benevolent spirit ( quite perfectly contrasting with her malevolent father ) and offers her the remedial concoction free of charge, causing the slightest breath of relief to cascade from slackened jaws as the pregnant woman informs her of the ingredients for her brother?s treatment. She listens intently, storing the sovereign?s speech within the confines of her calculating mind although it is quite useless for one as clueless in the art of healing as is she, but she supposes that she could locate the herbs if she is provided a description of each. Before her question even formulates upon an eager tongue, the queen pitches an offer that the wraith is in no position to refuse; and although the task is likely more time consuming than receiving a description, she knows that it?ll be more beneficial to her in the long run. ?I owe you my brother?s life,? she claims, and although she does not verbally utter a word of thanks, her gratitude is evident in the exasperated tone her vocals harbor. A curt nod of her skull confirms her acceptance of Roman?s proposal, willowy limbs propelling her elegantly across the Tortugan threshold as she made to follow the queen?s lead.

She shuffles on her feet, awaiting the other woman's response. When she accepts the deal, and speaks, Roman nods solemnly. "No one should lose a sibling." She says, her voice is soft as Artemis crosses the border. Stepping forward, the queen moves into a fluid trot- then a lope, glancing over her shoulder to see that the pace is fair for the other woman, as she dodges and maneuvers through the trees, towards the small earthy den she calls home. She moves quickly, not wanting to waste any time or delay the other wolf further. A life hangs in the balance, and that isn't something she will toy with. At the mouth of her den, she slides to halt, squeezing inside, she shuffles to the back of it, before she grabs the small bundles of herbs- the last dosage of her own that she had accidentally skipped. Turning, she would squeeze back out of the den, before depositing the bundle before Artemis. "It's not much- but it's a first dosage, and will tell you what herbs you need." She explains breathlessly. Regarding the woman with violet eyes, she lets out a breath. "Go to him. If you should need anything- you know where I am." She says, her voice strong- allowing the other woman to go- without wasting time for thanks and other words. She doesn't imagine the fear of loss. She's experienced it's raw power before- but she hasn't lost a sibling here in Alacritis yet- and she doesn't know what she would do, were she in Artemis's pawsteps- with no one to turn too. Speech,

The queen?s words in regard to losing a sibling causes dread to infiltrate her interior, partially on behalf of her sickly brother and the horrid prospect of his demise; and yet, she cannot help but be drawn to the thought of Ares. While he had not been vanquished from this earth, he had been lost to their vast differences and no longer sought an audience with their family--she had stripped him of the surname that had been bestowed upon him at birth as was her entitlement as the Elysius? self-proclaimed matriarch, and she could not help but wonder if it had been the wisest decision or simply a product of impulsivity. She could not dwell on such thoughts for long, however, as the queen took charge of the reins, leading her through the icy crypt in pursuit of her den. The paladin remained hot on the Armada?s heels, skull drooping in a subservient manner ( such a foreign concept indeed ) out of respect for the other?s authority within her kingdom, halting at the entrance to the queen?s den out of an unwillingness to overstep her boundaries. As the sovereign emerges from the den to drop a bundle of herbs at the phantom?s feet, the wraith immediately encases the package within powerful jaws, pupils flickering to meet with the woman?s celestial gaze as she speaks her piece. The woman is kind, and although such attributes typically aggravate the tyrant, she is enraptured by the queen for aiding her sibling on his path to recovery, and finds a genuine respect for the Armada circulating throughout her head. ?Do not hesitate to call upon me if you require anything, Roman,? she states, vocals muffled through the material held between her jaws. With a nod and halfhearted smile, the Elysius wraith pivots to exit the woman?s domain, determination to see her brother to recovery set within her gaze and purposeful stride.


? ? ? ? ? --- exeunt artemis

As Artemis takes the herbs, and speaks past them. Roman nods once. The other woman wastes no time in turning and hurrying along her way. Watching her go, the Tortugan queen finds herself wondering if any of the Armada wolves would go to such lengths to save the life of another of their siblings. As much as the siblings seemed to compete with each other for greatness and their father's love, she doubted it. Didn't they see that they didn't have to compete? Rather if they showed ambition, loyalty, and sense... they'd have each other and she was sure they'd have their father's love. Though with the information she possessed now about her father- she wasn't totally sure that his love was what she so craved these days. Letting out a sigh, she let her mind drift away, as the scent of Artemis began to fade. Little did the white woman know, but she had left in her wake- a lot for Roman to contemplate. -exit roman- Speech,