White Wedding

They were arriving! It seemed too soon - and Chrysanthe was reluctant to leave her sister's side. Yet she would, for a moment at least, in order to welcome the Seracians into Valhalla's lands. The young female was hopelessly excited for her sister's wedding, but she was also nervous. Having another pack be here, hosting something that was so important, she could only pray that everything would run smoothly. Swallowing her nervousness, she traveled toward the other wolves, only to stop in her tracks as she recognized one of the scents that was going in the same direction. "Father?!" He wasn't supposed to be up was he? She ran after him, quick to catch up to the brunette man.


He seemed to be in relatively good shape. Eons better than how he looked when he collapsed at the meeting, but still with a sense of frailty about him that she wished she could simply will away. Hearing his words, she smiled at his words, her blue gaze instantly flicking toward the russet brute. "The dashing young prince of course." She subtly teased, and although her voice seemed completely serious she winked at the brute. He was probably nervous. As for Chrysanthe herself - she was feeling better about Maverick as a whole now that she didn't have to marry him. He was a sweet brute, and one that she trusted to take good care of her sister. If he didn't - well, it wasn't good to think about homicide on the day of said lupine's wedding. "Welcome to Valhalla." She dipped her head toward her guests, and then her eyes began scanning the crowd, hoping that she would notice when her eyes locked with Gerdhart's. She had heard much of Seracia's king, but never gotten the chance to see him before.