It's Written In Gold [PACK CHALLENGE FOR TALIS]
01-21-2018, 12:04 PM
The sound of a determined howl rose from the Boneyard, that intriguingly strange place of death and battle that had been a monument of violence for untold generations. Seth tilted his head, listening with a faint smile growing on that stunted muzzle. Well if it wasn't young Ashiel, taking the initiative that none of the older generation had bothered with. Amon had left the door wide open for them to flood out and take control for themselves, yet here it was his generation that was making that first move. Ah, not for him, though, not Seth. No one would follow a dwarf as their alpha.
He may not have the depth of healer training as he would want - he regretted Pyralis' decision to drop her healer-slave, but that was her decision to make, after all - but he had enough experience with fresh wounds over the years of making himself useful to his uncle while his cousins trained in battle that he felt himself competent enough in this case. He gathered up what herbs, bandages, and other paraphernalia might be useful for a ruthless battle and set off for the Boneyard with them gathered in a bundle.
Upon arriving at the scene of the call, though, he was quick to revise his opinion. Apparently, the mortals would be willing to follow ANYONE who was willing to take control. Listening to the back and forth between the various wolves, watching the alpha of the challenged pack, he was amused to realize that the alpha was... well, BLIND. And they followed him? Allowed him to lead them? Expected him to actually fight for them? Though he was obviously not of the opinion that all physical flaws should be culled (he preferred not to be killed, clearly) he also found the whole idea of being led by the handicapped to be... laughable.
With the biggest eyes, the most innocent expression anyone could possibly have mustered onto that malformed face of his, Seth padded over to sit alone between the two groups, sending a hidden wink to his male cousins where they'd gathered. They knew well enough what he was like, undoubtedly, and Ashiel would know that the dwarf supported his claim despite the implied rejection of avoiding the Abraxas. It was a dangerous game for him to play, with the touchy tempers and easily-pricked pride of some of his crazier relatives, but if the way Dragoste had scattered and panicked after Amon's takeover was any indication, someone would need to manipulate things and appear sympathetic and kindly to this other pack to quell some of the inevitable reactions.
He may not have the depth of healer training as he would want - he regretted Pyralis' decision to drop her healer-slave, but that was her decision to make, after all - but he had enough experience with fresh wounds over the years of making himself useful to his uncle while his cousins trained in battle that he felt himself competent enough in this case. He gathered up what herbs, bandages, and other paraphernalia might be useful for a ruthless battle and set off for the Boneyard with them gathered in a bundle.
Upon arriving at the scene of the call, though, he was quick to revise his opinion. Apparently, the mortals would be willing to follow ANYONE who was willing to take control. Listening to the back and forth between the various wolves, watching the alpha of the challenged pack, he was amused to realize that the alpha was... well, BLIND. And they followed him? Allowed him to lead them? Expected him to actually fight for them? Though he was obviously not of the opinion that all physical flaws should be culled (he preferred not to be killed, clearly) he also found the whole idea of being led by the handicapped to be... laughable.
With the biggest eyes, the most innocent expression anyone could possibly have mustered onto that malformed face of his, Seth padded over to sit alone between the two groups, sending a hidden wink to his male cousins where they'd gathered. They knew well enough what he was like, undoubtedly, and Ashiel would know that the dwarf supported his claim despite the implied rejection of avoiding the Abraxas. It was a dangerous game for him to play, with the touchy tempers and easily-pricked pride of some of his crazier relatives, but if the way Dragoste had scattered and panicked after Amon's takeover was any indication, someone would need to manipulate things and appear sympathetic and kindly to this other pack to quell some of the inevitable reactions.
