Black and Gold

Late. Late. Late.

Soleil sprinted across Valhalla, rushing to make the meeting in time. Surely she was missing it. Chrysanthe and her party had returned. Azalea had returned. It had been her intention to be ready for them to arrive but had gotten caught up in her work.

Azalea was back. That thought made her heart leap, her daughter had not gone to fight but the idea of her daughter going to that blood riddled field at all made her sick with worry. Solaine and Guinevere were off exploring, now permitted to go out alone. The petite wolf had set about fixing up herb store and taking mental account of what she did and didn't have. Winter was fast approaching and she would need to be ready.

When she arrived to the meeting she spoke not a word, instead looking to Chrysanthe was all the apology she needed, her face contorted into a sorry look. She truly hadn't intended to be late. She was struck, however, stopped in her tracks by the bloody wounds on her leader's face. So it had been a vicious battle after all. Eyes quickly took in her daughter, who looked very much not herself as she sat looking blankly over the ranks. And Gideon... Gideon wasn't even there.

Liberty was however, and for that Soleil was grateful. But where was there king? Chrysanthe had announced her mate and had taken him with her... now he didn't even sit at her side. Worried eyes then jumped to her husband who was suddenly speaking. He wanted to fight.

So it wasn't over.

A sick dread tightened her stomach and she moved to sit beside her mate, hugging close to his side for comfort. There were few things healers hated more than bloodshed and it seemed like soon she would be dealing with more blood than she cared for.