ooc: set after dm, obviously very vague.

The queen had been dwelling on her tedious decisions for a long while. She had decided to pass her throne on. Everyone but the wolf she would call forward, she didn't trust to lead her empire into greatness. What better wolf to give it too, then a wolf who had defended her honor in blood. Her fight during the death battle of her father, had left Roman impressed in her capabilites. Thus solidifying her decision, and the absolute faith she had in the red and white she-wolf- no the red and white future queen. Roman only hoped she would accept her offering of a throne. The Armada needed an escape. The loss of her children. The cold betrayal of her foolish pack- she was torn between riding the world she lived in of their vermin blood- or leaving to find herself. Perhaps she would do better to find a home more suited to a wolf of her caliber? A wolf of her ambition. A soft melodic howl would leave her, as she called for Azalea Adravendi. An Armada wolf passing her throne willingly to an Adravendi- would the world survive such a change?

also, posts will be crappy. spreeing this out so it has no reason to be revoked as legit c:

Roman's call would ride the airwaves until the sound found it's way into Azalea's ear drums. It was an unexpected call but in no way inconvenient. Never would a call from the Armada queen be known to her as inconvenient. Azalea had been, however, downwind of a pair of does. They were small deer, the kind that suited this land better. The Queen would call and the deer stirred at the sound, ears wobbling about on their heads an their nostrils flaring. They wanted to know of that calling wolf was coming to get them. And while they didn't know azalea was there, they progressively grew more and more restless before one stood up. The other followed and they made a quick retreat, surely seeking pit some far corner of the forest to find safety in. She stood up with a light sigh before turning into the forest, towards it's inner bits. Her left eye was a swollen mess, the area above and around a mess of raw tissue and dried blood. It was we forever reminder that she was a traitor in her family's eyes. Or rather, she was a traitor in Epiphron's eyes. The battles had been epic, and that was to be expected. Roman and Satis had waited in the wings to defend her. Yes, Armada wolves had been ready to fight for her but not her own blood. It served to solidify where Azalea belonged now, and that wasn't beside those who shared her name. Azalea found Roman without an problem now that she knew the territory. The pale woman with her red and gold markings sat brooding. She did a lot of roofing lately. She found her way over, sitting beside roman with her right side facing roman so that she could see her clearly. There was a dip of her head and a light smile. "it's a shame, I really enjoyed being pretty." she sighed dramatically.

It isn't long until the red faced woman heeds her call, and Roman's violet eyes do not miss the new wounds that marr her once flawless face. Words ring in her mind, as Azalea speaks and a half smile graces her lips. "Another Queen once told me to see our scars as triumphs." She murmured, her tone light. "I'm proud of you Azalea. You fought for your honor". A sigh leaves her, as she turns to fully face the other wolf. "I called you today, to be the one to offer- to adorn you with a crown." She pauses. "I fear that Regium needs a more capable leader, and with the death of my children... I don't feel like I can choose things in the packs best interest." Her tone is serious, and she waits on pins and needles, hoping the other she-wolf will take the crown from her weary paws.

"Another Queen once told me to see our scars as triumphs." Azalea nodded slightly. She did see it as triumph, as liberation. Epiphron had sought to disgrace her and had failed. Sure, she may bear her wounds for the rest of time but they were superficial, there was no touching the fresh ego that swelled inside her bod. "I'm proud of you Azalea. You fought for your honor". Just like that the queen would read her exact thoughts and she would smile back at her, ears pulling back as she showed a little modesty. Her amber gaze finds no happiness in Roman's violet colored depths though. She draws back, ears fully folding against her skull. "I called you today, to be the one to offer- to adorn you with a crown." All she could do was stare at the Armada wolf with wide eyes, wondering how she had even ended up here, being offered to take over Regium. Her mind was blank and for once in her life Azalea Adravendi found herself at a loss for words. "I fear that Regium needs a more capable leader, and with the death of my children... I don't feel like I can choose things in the packs best interest." Slowly Azalea began to nod, her face devoid of any smiles now as she tried to compose herself and become all business. "If that's what you wish then I will do my best." Azalea would become silent then, waiting for Roman to say whatever might be left to be said. She was sure that Roman was tired and in dire need of a long break. The burden was just too much and now it would become her own. Azalea wondered how she would come to delegate and if she would make any changes. She also wondered what would drive Roman on after this.

Relief washes through her, as Azalea accepts her crown and her shoulders sag slightly. She's disappointed in herself, disappointed in her inabilities as a leader, but she tries not to show it. She dips her head slightly to the red-faced she-wolf and steps back. "I have faith that you'll do well." A soft sigh leaves her, as she glances over the forest that she once ruled over, and is now nothing more than a subserviant member, and she inclines her hed. "I'll remain in Regium, as long as you allow- in case any fools dare via for your newly earned crown." She says cautiously, confident that Azalea could terminate them- yet at the same time worried that her shunned family would seek vengance. She gives the other she-wolf a long searching look before turning away, her head low, and tail dragging the ground. Roman Armada, didn't know any longer who she was without her crown. With a soft sigh, the white queen would seek to make her leave.

-exit roman-