The eye of the storm

While the princess made her way to the meeting, the waifish male had begun to rush through the process of making himself presentable. Slave or not, he refused to look like a mess in front of the rest of the pack. A quick rub of his paw pads on the rough stone he'd dragged up from the edges of the shore, near where it met the grasses of the plains. Using the edges of it to clean the dirt from beneath his claws, he instantly felt better about leaving the den after an eerie, moonlit morning of working alongside Ophelia. Carefully placed swipes of his tongue over the fur of his chest, and a quick shake of his dark pelt. It would have to do, he was supposed to be sticking close to the princess. If she showed up alone, and he took his sweet time joining her, there was a chance that Sirius would beat him right there amongst the entire pack. Slender limbs taking to the snow dusted terra in a ground eating lope, he headed for the Obelisk. It helped to follow the princess' trail, and as he drew closer he could hear the murmur of voices.

Slowing to a walk, the obsidian wraith lowered his head submissively and tucked his tail loosely against his belly. Hesitation bade him pause on the fringes of the crowd, scanning the masses of different wolves until he noticed the grey and turquoise pelt of his master. He picked his way carefully through the gathered wolves, carefully placing each paw so as not to brush or trod upon anyone and incur their wrath. He slipped into place at her side, and unconsciously reached one delicate paw up to gently brush some debris from her shoulder. "Apologies for lagging behind, Ophelia-chan." he whispered demurely, shooting her an apologetic look before he carefully arranged his tail around his paws and settled in to see what was happening.

"Speech!"

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