Leave your heart on the table [Joining]

Hardly a day ever passed when she thought about who she once was--a conniving fox of a lass buried beneath the self-fabricated guise of happiness and amorality. Deceptive from the start, she'd overthrown her birth pack what seemed like so long ago, having instilled thoughts of mutiny in those around her and putting bruises upon her body, only to smack the blame for the marks upon the heads of the alphas. Despite her efforts to plan ahead and anticipate her future moves in a manner similar to a master of chess setting up their own schemes, she never foresaw herself leading a pack, let alone ripping the throat from the rapist and terrorist that had plagued the wolves of Alacritia without mercy. Jupiter had never been a justice-driven individual and never would be; though she excused her own actions with such a claim the killing had been done for self-preservation and for selfish reasons. She had cared only for the protection of herself, her pups, her mate, and Ludicael, not considering the brute's own pups or mate, or even his own pack.



But she wasn't guilty.



Even as the blood from his jugular had poured upon her paws, violence-seeking essence drinking from the crimson about her toes, she had not bothered to glance from the fray and into the audience--not at his mate, not at his pups, and not at her own pack member, Luana. The young, kind-hearted lass had been so distressed at Kaios' death. Why? was all she had to ask on the matter. Out of all of the things about the murder of the male, it was the only thing that made her feel even the slightest ounce of regret, and even that was minute.



Her paws had always been one of the darker portions of her body, the gradient always having faded smoothly up the planes of her powerful legs but always avoiding the particular notice of the femme. Had she not remembered their tones, she could have almost convinced herself that it was the king's dried crimson that had permanently stained her, but she knew better than that. The only thing permanent he left upon her was the marks on the left side of her neck, the scabs promising nothing but a scar. Should she have believed in the afterlife and the haunting that he had preached, she would have sworn she could hear him laughing from the grave his family had most likely dug for him.



During her thoughts, her movements had been slow to not disturb her healing wounds, but as a stuttering voice snapped her from her pondering she couldn't help but pick up her pace. A name uttered in a voice she didn't recognize gave her a calling that was more than familiar--Aria? came her puzzled thoughts, misunderstanding the context of the conversation. As she entered a portion of the mangroves that put her in the line of sight about five or so yards away, she paused to examine the woman that had presumably given the introduction.



The lady was a beige figure layered with lighter tones of tawny and darker hues of a pale chocolate, sporting fiery eyes that were sharp in contrast to Jupiter's celestial own. The smattering of white upon her underbelly reminded her faintly of one of her pup's, though Oberon's primary was of pitch instead of the lady's earthen tones. A shadow of a male, identified by his single alabaster sock, stood nearby and she quickly identified the wolf as Cherokee from their previous meeting. Leathery lips pulled upwards at the slightest as she recalled that his mate was pregnant, and she nodded to him first in her approach, turning her optics upon the stranger upon her borders next.



Everything before the match to the death seemed like so long ago. This brought cause to an odd feeling of nostalgia as her maw parted to deliver a simple salutation of, "Hello." Regular things that had been important to her seemed petty now, but habit caused her to find the will to care. This was Ludicael, afterall--the pack she had fought for, the homeland she had battled to gain control of, and the residence of those that she cared for. The residence of all but two, that was. It'd only been a couple of days and she already missed the presence of Medusa and Deteste in her life, but trusted them with Amenti too much to be distraught by their absence.



As she'd approached, she'd also managed to drink in the snippets of the lady's dialogue and quickly caught sight of the fresh kill she'd indulged upon. The woman had indeed never stepped paw over the newly-marked borders, which Jupiter had refreshed after the near-torrential rain they'd experienced the other day. It was now that she took the time to address the heard words, stance neutral and tail only slightly flagged to the most minute of degrees upwards. There was no need for a display of dominance when the fae cowered so thoroughly before them.




"Where might you be going, if you don't mind my asking?" she inquired, colorful, humor-laced voice in contrast to her unrevealing stance. Before, she might have immediately offered a place to rest but now, Jupiter had enemies. She had an angry widow that undoubtedly wanted her head, as well as the dam's maturing children. Amenti had before been a pack with lethal potential and it seemed as if the death of their king and the downfall of their alpha had revived that within them. For all she knew, this could be one of Newt's slaves. More lives than just her own were now under her wing--the birth of her pups had marked a higher notch than even her pack on her ladder of responsibilities. For as long as they were vulnerable, she would protect them while they could not.



"I go by Jupiter, by the way. Alpha of these lands, which are known as Ludicael." The planet-marked queen could not count the times she had encountered wolves who were unaware of the packs they encountered. After almost a year of keeping herself as thoroughly informed of the going-ons of the adversaries scattered across the lands, the concept of not knowing about them seemed almost a little odd to her. But, just like everyone, she'd been there once. Despite that, she'd be damned if she ever reached that point again.



Weight shifted and ears flicked, orbs stealing a glance at Cherokee. She'd heard no words for him in her approach, and wasn't sure if he'd introduced himself, or even spoken at all, for that matter. As it seemed, only time would tell, so she focused once more at the fae before her.


"speech"