Citadel gave one last angry glare at Cerberus, before turning his back on his racing buddy and following his mother's silent order. Heading back into Armada lands. He knew she wasn't done with him, and he felt anticipation and worry in his gut. It wasn't usually his mother punishing him. Would she go easier or harder on him? He thought about it, and started to relax a little. His mother was gentle, soft.


So he sat patiently, waiting for her to find him. Trying to make himself look a little smaller, making his eyes a little wider, his expression sad. So set, he waited for his mother's appearance and judgement.

After speaking with Cerberus she followed her son's trail back inland. Chewing on the inside of her cheek. She didn't know what to DO with him. No, she had an idea, but she liked it a lot less than the idea of just telling him off. but that had gone about as well as it could up till now. This had to be the last straw. What if he had stumbled into the Syndicate? What if he got seriously hurt and he never made it back home? Her heart couldn't take it!

She found him waiting for her. Conveniently looking thoroughly chastised already. She shook her head and took another steadying breath. Usually, she had let Bas handle his wanderings and discipline, but obviously, Bas was a little too proud of his son's efforts to get into trouble. This time it could have been serious and might have even started a war.

"Citadel..." She started and shook her head with a sigh. Ignoring her son's visual attempts to soften her, "This is the last time. You didn't just wander out of our borders, you didn't just go on an unsupervised hunting trip, you trespassed. You could have been maimed or claimed, or killed for trespassing over another pack's borders. Do you understand that?" She asked, her voice low and severe. The worry and concern were palpable on her face. Not letting him get a word in edgewise she continued. "Never mind how worried I get every time you disappear, but you trespassed into another pack. If you had picked another pack- by the Sun!" Her volume was starting to increase as her words nearly made her panic so she paused, inhaling for a moment before continuing in a softer more serious tone: "Citadel, you could have started a fucking War. We want to avoid that as much as possible. No one wants a war, it's bloody and dangerous for everyone, even for non-fighters." Her gaze was hard, her face flat. She didn't like what she was about to do but something had to change, something had to make the boy understand.

"You will not be that lucky again because you will not be wandering out of these borders from now until the first day of Spring. You will be scrubbing the baths, hauling loads from the smokehouse to the storerooms, learning how to organize the storerooms, refreshing pelts, cleaning the tunnels, refreshing the torches, polishing weapons, and otherwise working your butt off for a season as a Songbird Slave." She sat and held his gaze. She was a hundred percent dead serious.

"Ignita"

His mother was mad, and he really didn’t want to sit here and listen as she told him all the ways she was mad. But he knew he had no choice. This was his punishment for being caught, for being ratted out. his expression turned a little muleish at the thought, though he’d been working hard to keep his expression contrite and chastised.

Yes, yes, he’d trespassed. It had actually been rather fun. He’d re-met an old friend (did Scylla really know her brother had dobbed him in to his mother?) he winced, tuning back into his mothers lecture when her voice started to rise, and he wondered how much longer this was going to go on for. His ears pricked up the tiniest bit at the mention of war. Maybe she’d miss it. He really hoped she missed it. That sounded… interesting. Maybe not the best time to ask about war.

Yuddy yuddy yah, no more leaving the pack, doing chores… wait. Wait. No. His eyes widened like discs. She did not just say that! His mouth dropped open “Mum!” He said in dawning horror. “Mum, I'm a prince! I’m not… I’m not like Teegra! I’m not… people can’t just walk all over me and make me do what they want. I won't, I won't do it!” His chin gutted out, and he started to rise back to his height again, defiance in his eyes. “if you want to make me Songbird, you’ll have to… you’ll have to make me!” he yelled at her.


"Speech"

Ignita's brows raised and she tilted her head as he made it very clear how he thought slaves should be treated.

She held her pose as he yelled, closing her eyes for a moment as the vehement breath of her taller stronger son made the fur on her cheek move. She set her jaw and looked him in the face again. Her head tilted up at him, nearly his father's height.

"I don't have to make you. You will be. I'm stripping you of your title as Prince as of right now. The rest of the pack doesn't have to do your bidding, you will have to do theirs. You can take it up to your father after I've spoken with him."

She lifted her voice to the sky, calling to the members of Armada.

"I, Ignita, as an Alpha of Armada, declare Citadel, son of Ignita and Basilisk, a Songbird from this moment on." She called to the pack, letting everyone know.

Her howl done, she set her golden eyes upon him. Disappointment and grief were etched into her very gaze. She knew the call would also call her husband to her so that they could talk about this decision. But she would not budge from this.

"When you have learned how to serve the pack by being among the lowest members, then you may earn the chance to get your title back." She declared. One day... One day she prayed to the sun and whatever gods there were that might be listening that he would learn from this. A mother's job is not to be thanked. A mother's job is to teach, guide, and love. She loved him enough to do this for him. He may never forgive her for this. But hopefully one day he'll understand it. Was this what it meant to be Queen? To decide to have your son hate you?

"Ignita"

Anger rose inside of Citadel, pure and cold and nothing like the hot flashes he had felt in brief moments before this. This was something different, something had had been lurking inside of him for a while now, but had never truly shown its face. She had stripped him of his title more than that, she had declared it before the whole pack. She was making him a slave and now everyone knew it. That cold anger washed over him like a snow storm, and he rose higher yet off the ground. A towering behemoth, a mountain and a bear more than a child. Something... darker entered his eyes. She pushed him, and he would answer. By the hells, he would answer.

He dove suddenly at the pale wolf before him, aiming to knock her shoulder hard with his paw. If he could shove her off balance, or even to the floor, he would. She was not his mother at that moment, she was his adversary. She was something he had to get through, because Citadel Ignite Fatalis would never be a slave.

Citadel vs Ignita for the right to leave Armada
Round 1/?
Age: under 1
Size: Paleo species
Build: Balanced
Offensive Battle Accessory: Dagger
Defensive Battle Accessory: Bracers
Companion 1: Raven, female, 50" - boosted
Companion 2: Snow Leopard, Male, 25" crystal horns - boosted
*Companion 3: Black bear, Male - Battle - Boosted
Mutation 1: Bear Paws - Offensive
Mutation 2: Bone spurs - Defensive
Mutation 3: Crystal crown - Perception
Skills: Expert Fighter & Advanced Hunter

"Citadel"

Surprised.

Suddenly time slowed to a crawl. She saw the shift in his eyes first. A glimmer, a gleam, a fragment of a flag to warn her of what was about to transpire. She had been warned. Makara's words echoed in her mind as she saw her beloved baby boy from a bird's eye view lunge into her minuscule frame.

He knocked her shoulder with his paw, sending her flying. Adrenaline surged into her body as she snarled in pain. She spun, getting up on her feet as quickly as she could. She lunged back, aiming to grab his throat, maybe she'd hang there, maybe her weight could be too much for him to hold but she threw her whole weight into it in an attempt to bring him down. Tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't let her baby just LEAVE!?

Ignita vs Citadel for the right to leave Armada
Round 1/2
Age: over 1 year
Size: Medium
Build: Balanced
Companion 1: Golden Brushtail Possum, Female - Battle
Companion 2: Peregrine, male - flying
Skills: Expert Navigator & Master Intellectual
Specialty: Professor


"Jamie"||"Iskandor"||"Odette"||"Citadel"||"Selene"||"Balrog"||"Ignita"||"Basilisk"

He wouldn’t give up without a fight, he couldn’t. Some small part of his brain was protesting, especially when his paw connected with her and knocked her down. She was so little. But also she was an adult and he was a pup. It wasn’t like he was being cruel, right? She was being cruel! She wanted to take everything from him. His freedom, his dignity. She wanted to push him down until he was small and controllable. No!

She was lunging for him, until her teeth were around his throat. She cut off his windpipe, and let out small ragged breaths as he moved to wrap a paw around her and yank her close. It was far from a hug, and more like a bear's grasp.


Citadel vs Ignita for the right to leave Armada
Round 2/2
Age: under 1
Size: Paleo species
Build: Balanced
Offensive Battle Accessory: Dagger
Defensive Battle Accessory: Bracers
Companion 1: Raven, female, 50" - boosted
Companion 2: Snow Leopard, Male, 25" crystal horns - boosted
*Companion 3: Black bear, Male - Battle - Boosted
Mutation 1: Bear Paws - Offensive
Mutation 2: Bone spurs - Defensive
Mutation 3: Crystal crown - Perception
Skills: Expert Fighter & Advanced Hunter

"Citadel"

The flame prince's ears perked at his mother's howl, the authoritative tone jolting him from his study of the obelisk. His fiery orange markings shimmered in the sunlight as he bounded toward the source, eager to obey and stand by her side if needed. Upon his arrival, he froze, his obsidian eyes narrowing in disbelief at what he was witnessing. Citadel (a hulking menace now) had his paw around her, their snarls filling the air with tension and grief.

"No! What are you doing?!" Balrog barked, his voice as sharp as flint. He surged forward, wanting to position himself defensively between Citadel and his mother but they were locked on to one another. "Don't hurt her!" His smaller frame was dwarfed by his brother's, but the fire in his spirit rivaled the sun.

"You have gone too far, Citadel.. you want to be a prince yet you do not act like one!" Balrog growled out his words, though he knew his brother.. he knew he wouldn't stop.. he just hoped his mother could get out of this unharmed. Protective rage boiled in his veins like lava as his muzzle rippled into a snarl, his teeth bared as he watched.

"Balrog"

Her teeth closed over his windpipe, she couldn't bear to bare down and crush it. She couldn't. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to let go, to let him, to save him, to keep him. She felt his legs wrap around her and squeeze her tight. Her teeth shivered against the flesh of her son, tension and reflexes holding her fast to his throat. She squirmed and writhed against his crushing embrace. Raking her paws against his chest. Pushing her back legs against his stomach. Anything to get him to let her go. With great effort, she pushed her forelegs against him, and the part of her brain that told her this was her son turned off. Her jaws sinched tighter and she attempted to pull and thrash as hard as she could. As the breath was forced passed her voice box it whined high and mournful through her teeth.



Ignita vs Citadel for the right to leave Armada
Round 2/2
Age: over 1 year
Size: Medium
Build: Balanced
Companion 1: Golden Brushtail Possum, Female - Battle
Companion 2: Peregrine, male - flying
Skills: Expert Navigator & Master Intellectual
Specialty: Professor

"Ignita"

Iskandor had been doing a patrol around the edge of Armada’s territory, his large form moving easily among the snow-covered trees. He had learned to split his time between duty and his own personal interests. This was a simple task, really. Until a sudden call split the stillness of the forest, ripping him from his mundane work. His mother’s voice; clear and commanding as it echoed across the territory. I, Ignita, as an Alpha of Armada, declare Citadel, son of Ignita and Basilisk, a Songbird from this moment on.

Iskandor’s ears immediately pinned back as the words struck him like a blow. Her voice, so full of conviction, paired painfully with the reality of her declaration. His brother. A Songbird. A slave.

Citadel—his adventurous, mischievous brother—reduced to servitude. A proud son of the Fatalis, now bound beneath their mother’s decree. Loyalty to Armada warred with the deep bond he shared with his brother. Love and admiration for his mother clashed with the bitterness rising in his throat. He stood frozen for a moment, before he forced himself to move. His stride was brisk, he knew he had to go, to see. To know if it was true. How could he reconcile this otherwise? It felt like a blade cleaving their family in two.

As Iskandor approached the clearing, his turquoise eyes widened as the scene unfolded before him: Citadel, his brother, was locked in combat with their much smaller mother and alpha, Ignita. It was as if in slow motion. His mother, fighting to keep herself from being crushed, not letting Citadel reject the declaration. And Citadel, oh Iskandor could only guess his rage at the order. Tears streamed down his mother’s cheeks. Citadel looked betrayed and unraveled. Nearby, Balrog stood barking at their brother to cease while trying to come between them both. But they would not be stopped so easily.

Iskandor’s heart pounded in his chest as he took in the clash of wills and bodies. His claws dug into the ground, his jaw going lax as he mumbled to no one in particular, maybe the Gods. “What is this madness…?” Iskandor demanded, voice steady but lined with desperation. His eyes darted between his mother and Citadel, his chest tightening. He could only close his eyes briefly, his heart torn between his love for his brother and the respect he held for their mother. The weight of loyalty pulled him in opposing directions, each choice promising to leave a scar on the young boy.

“Citadel,” Iskandor said again, quieter this time, but no less firm. He stepped closer, trying to de-escalate the situation as well. His eyes softened as he tried to meet his brother’s gaze. “Enough. Fighting our mother will only make your chains tighter. This is mom.” He turned to Ignita now, an undercurrent of pleading in his voice. “Mother, I beg you to reconsider. There must be another way—another path for Citadel to prove himself without stripping him of who he is.” It was all he could do, to try. For both of them.


"Speech"