This was not going to be a fun meeting. He had already had to admit his screw-up to Ochi and now he would tell the rest of the pack. An ugly wound that worked up his muzzle to finish a bit under his left eye. Less obvious was the fresh stitching under his neck, which was the real reason he’d had to accept defeat. Kotori had taken a bath in the hot springs before the meeting, easing muscles, and more minor injuries, and cleaning himself up to look as professional as possible to give this bitter news.

Kotori took a seat on his rock on the meeting spot, and let out a small resigned sigh. His rock, his spot, his land, well… Kotori howled, calling for the pack. There was no request in the howl, it was a demand that all wolves would come to this meeting. He’d demand this last thing of them.

"Kotori Fatalis"

Sick, feeble, not entirely there, Asla made her way towards Kotori's call. The emaciated woman could still hide most of her bones beneath a bison fur coat as she'd been doing this whole time, but the light had dulled within her eyes and what fur could be seen looked brassy and unkempt. She was a mess. A corpse waiting for their ticket to be called.

Moving into the clearing, Asla's gaze narrowed as she noted the extensive wounds upon her younger brother's face and neck. Sick or no, fury rose within the blonde woman and teeth flashed as a low growl pulled from her. She waited for him to explain so she'd know who to go kill.

"Aslatiel"

Indigo had been very quiet recently, there was so much going on that he had just shut down. Aia was still gone and he hadn’t heard from her in years now. He would always hold out hope that she was well, but he had become cynical the older he got. With good reason. He had been distant because he knew that Aslatiel was sick. Too sick for even his mastery of healing could do anything. She was dying, and with her it felt like his own heart was beginning to dull and waste away with her. The maned man was in perfect health, but his lips lacked any smile and the light seemed to have dimmed from his brilliant blue eyes. He arrived at the meeting right behind his beloved sister, sitting close to her, knowing that her frail form was there beneath the large fur coat. He hid a soft stress relieving sigh as he sat protectively beside her. "Asla" -- "Indy"

Never any rest. Raids and then... Asla was not getting better, she was sick and not recovering. Mojito was doing his best not to just spend all day every day plastered to her side both because he knew well enough she'd not thank him for it and because he had children to look after, and a pack he was beholden to. It had made him admittedly more sullen than usual though as he ran through any possibilities that hadn't been tried yet, near constantly. At this point he just expected that any news was bad news. So he wasn't exactly happy to be plodding his way towards the usual meeting spot, he'd gathered up what kids he'd found on his way over. He made a point of passing by Asla, gently offering her a smile that failed to be totally genuine before he moved to sit himself a little ways away, close but giving the woman and her brother space, and leaving more than enough for her children if they wished to be close. He sighed and tried to tear his attention off the woman he loved, and towards the man that had called them together, wanting to just collapse onto his husband. "Speech"

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Since the raid, the koi-dappled male had been largely unbothered by the quiet that seemed to linger in the territories of the pack. For the most part, he was occupying his time with hunting trips, or teaching his children new skills when they showed interest. Each night he did his best to return home and warm his husband's bed, though there was little more than shared breaths and mingled fur at the moment. The mournful furrow of pale brow and exhaustion in slender limbs was hardly igniting any fire in their bed at night. There was little interest in pack life as a whole on Nao's part, but that was unsurprising to most. The man was only here because his husband wanted him to be, and so they raised their children in a place that was familiar to the wolfdog. It bothered him very little, now that he had the freedom to cross the borders as he pleased. So when the summons arose from the rapids, he answered it with little concern. He had no idea where his husband was, but he would save space for himself and his youngsters if they were not already present.

As he slipped from the undergrowth and approached the meeting area, it was clear that not many of the members of Valta had arrived yet. A brief quirk of his brow indicated his muted surprise, and was quickly replaced with a placid expression of neutrality. Padding softly towards the few wolves who had already gathered, he made a point to cast his attention over the fawn coloured fae who had been occupying so much of his husband's time. The woman was sick, and the situation seemed dire. Though Mojito hardly spoke of it, he knew that it weighed heavy on the pale man's shoulders, growing harder to bear with each passing day. Unfortunately, there was little more than comfort he could offer to his beloved, and so that was what he put his energy into. He dipped his head respectfully to her as he settled on the far side of his husband, leaning gently against the silky-furred shoulder of his wolfdog lover. A few of their brood were already settling in as well, and he adjusted his posture to welcome their presence as well. As he aged, he was certainly getting better at being a living pillow for those around him.

Finally his attention rose properly to their leader, who was looking rough today. Bandages wreathed his face and neck, and his expression was unequivocally despondent. What on earth had happened here? A small frown crossed his features briefly, but he quickly schooled his expression to avoid drawing any concern from his children. It was best they not get any more worked up than necessary. Perhaps that was simply the face Kotori made when he was in pain, which was a sensible response to having your head mauled.

"Speech!"

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If her parents were dealing with their own issues, papa Mojito more than her Outou-san, Tsuki didn't really seem to notice. That was to be expected though, she was hardly the most attentive wolf. She did know that when a call went out she was supposed to go there. So she was. Though she kept getting sidetracked, at least until her father had gathered her up with a single call. She waddled happily after him, until she got distracted again... She couldn't help it! By the time she'd pulled her attention back and went after her father, at a faster clip now, her outou-san had already arrived. Tsuki had not picked up the emotional repression it seemed he had. Her tail was already going fast enough to affect her ability to move. "Outou-san daisuki!" She said probably a little too loudly, and flopped herself onto his paws. They were nearly a year old now, and yet she was still tiny, which was totally fine by her, meant she could roll all over her parents and many of her siblings all she wanted! Would she be paying attention to the meeting? Who knew, but at least she'd finally learned how to be quiet through them. "Speech"

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The peach dappled wolfdog spent most of her time wandering around looking at stuff. Except when there had been all of that fighting a little while ago, her Outou-san had been a little bit frightening when he'd rounded them up and told them to sit still in the den. Under no circumstances were they allowed to leave until they were collected later. Which, of course, they were. That didn't mean it wasn't at least a little bit alarming to hear the snarling and clamour of a fight in the distance. Not that anyone needed to know that she was afraid, of course. Only a little weenie would be afraid, because obviously her papa and Outou-san were going to keep them safe. Duh. Having been dragged to the meeting by her papa, there was only a little bit of resentment lingering in her mismatched eyes as she trailed after him and her sister. Tsuki was always on the move, but not with the kind of focus. Flitting this way and that as her attention caught on different things, always nearly wriggling with glee. Chūhai didn't quite understand how she managed to maintain the childish delight, but nonetheless she wasn't going to put a damper on it... all of the time. However, when she shouted at their Outou-san and flopped onto his paws, the silver furred youngster couldn't help snapping at the other girl a little, teeth closing on nothing but aimed at the darker furred girl. "Don't be so loud!" she hissed, brows furrowed with scorn as she looked around at the others around them. No one seemed to care, but that didn't ease the concern about their own perception among their pack members that always lingered somewhere in Chūhai's brain. Satisfied that she'd made her point, the petite damsel settled herself as far in between her sire's as she could manage without having to ruffle her fur too much. Comfortably squished between them, she tucked her tail around her paws like a proper lady should, and did her best to look like the rest of the adults while she waited for the whole affair to be over.

Ume all but floats into the meeting, eyes locked on a point in the distance. he scarcely notices the wolves around him - doesn’t consciously recognise faces or scents beyond father, father, brother, sister - and ends up bumping directly into Mojito, brows scrunching in confusion as pain flares across his snout. huh. ouch. it’s enough to drag him back into the moment, though, and Ume settles back on his haunches and let’s his gaze rest on the man of the forefront of the gathering. “i found a dead frog the other day,” they announce apropos of nothing. not really speaking to anyone, just saying the words because they feel right. “it had exploded. it’s guts were everywhere and it’s eyes were sunken. i took one.” he leans in to Chuhai, mouth against the boy’s ear. “wanna see it?”