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"

And the winner is...

CITADEL

IGNITA must give up by submitting, fleeing or passing out. Totals: CITADEL: Attack[37] + 90% Bonus[33.30]: 70.30 Defense[84] + 20% Bonus[16.80]: 100.80 Agility[48] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 48.00 Perception[59] + 30% Bonus[17.70]: 76.70 Total[295.80] + 5% Bonus[14.79]: 310.59 IGNITA: Attack[68] + 20% Bonus[13.60]: 81.60 Defense[64] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 64.00 Agility[6] + 20% Bonus[1.20]: 7.20 Perception[12] + 35% Bonus[4.20]: 16.20 Total[169.00] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 169.00

Citadel pulled Ignita towards his body in a very careful hold, trying to pull her off his windpipe. Stars glinted in his eyes as his body screamed at him for air. He pulled only hard enough that her grip slipped and a breath rushed through his body. At that moment, they were suddenly no longer alone.

Disgust and anger reared its head when Balrog appeared, growling and judgmental to Citadel. Ignita had made it glaringly clear what she was doing. In fact, she had informed the entire pack. Balrog’s words and actions were also clear. His brother would rather see him a slave than stand up for himself. Balrog… wasn’t worth calling a brother. He looked at the golden stranger, and knew in that moment he could no longer call the gold wolf his kin.

Iskandor appeared next. The silver brother that had saved him from drowning not that long ago. Would he too swiftly take their mothers side? Condemn him to slavery with his words and actions? But it was clear immediately, as Citadel pulled their mother off his throat and cradled her almost gently in his paws, that Iskandor was less decided. His plea was to them both, not Citadel alone. He cast his brother a look, confused and grateful and angry all at once before releasing their mother and stepping back. “I won’t be a slave. Not now, not ever.” he said, his eyes only for Ignita now. Betrayal, hot and awful soaked his body. He shook his head at her, he couldn’t sit in this pack, be a part of them. Knowing one brother and his mother wanted him to be their slave. That his worth to them was lesser.

“I can’t forgive this.” He growled. His words for Ignita and Balrog, turning from them. He never looked at Balrog again. His eyes found Iskandor, he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He wasn’t sure if he would find it there. “Take care of her. Perhaps we’ll meet again one day.” he released his mother, and he turned from everything he had ever known. His family. Both the ones that betrayed him, and the one that didn’t, and he left them all behind.

-exit unless stopped-

"Speech"

Speech // thought

Her head swimming from the lack of oxygen reaching her lungs, her ribs strained under the pressure of his crushing embrace. The blood pounding in Ignita's ears drowned the words of her other begotten sons from reaching her until she released him. Slumping into a limp puddle in her massive eldest son's arms. Tears freely fell over her pale cheeks. Her breath rasped against her throat as she struggled through the sudden pain of heartache.

As she was released to the ground she whimpered. Her eyes blinked as she sought the gaze of each boy. She lifted her head seeking the gilded and shadowed form of Balrog to lean her head against.

Iskandor's tone, wiser than his years reached her next. Her gaze lifted briefly to his then fell again. "He will always be my son." She sighed.

"He's won the right to leave Armada. I was trying to teach him... He trespassed on another pack. He risked war..." Her voice cracked, trying to have her sons understand her, understand him... Shame at her failure held her broken gaze on the earth. Nothing compared to the rending of her heart. How could Bas have such faith in her if she couldn't raise their own son properly? Keep him on the straight and narrow? Let him walk all over her?

Where was Basilisk? The Warlord who had sworn to protect her must have heard her call dictating his son's new, now older, status.

The flame prince stood frozen, his fiery markings seeming to dim as Citadel's bitter words struck him like a blow. His brother - no, the stranger Citadel had become - refused to even look at him. The air felt heavy with betrayal, confusion, and heartbreak. Balrog's ears flattened against his skull as his brother turned away and rejected them all, as his mother cried on his shoulder.

"Tch. Just going to leave?" Balrog barked, his voice cracking with emotion. He stepped forward, shielding his mother as his obsidian eyes watched Citadel's form walk away. "Just going to run because things don't go your way?! One day you will realize how wrong you are, Citadel. I know you know it, deep down."

Staring at Citadel's back to him stung worse than any fight. Balrog's form was shaking in quiet anger before he turned back to Ignita, rushing to her side as she slumped against the ground. Without hesitation, he pressed himself against her, his warmth a silent promise that he would never leave her, leave the Armada, as Citadel had.

"You tried, Mom," he murmured, his voice trembling but honest. "He's the one who failed us, not you." He glanced at Iskandor, searching for solidarity in his silver brother's gaze. He wasn't sure what to expect from Iska, would he turn on their family, as well?

Balrog nuzzled Ignita's neck gently, his fiery pelt a shield against the cold emptiness that Citadel had left behind. For now, he would focus on what mattered most - his family... even if it was smaller now.

"Balrog"

Basilisk was out of the pack, hunting down a moose when Thunder came careening down with a mighty cry. Startling Bas’s prey in a sudden, terrified motion too swift for Bas to compensate for. He turned to the bird with the start of a snarl, before he realised she was in panic mode. Something had gone wrong.

He turned, and was already running by the time he had completed the motion. Racing back along the field towards his pack lands. He entered the territory, and things seemed oddly quiet, but still Thunder continued on. He followed his bird, letting her lead him into the Col. to where… Ignita was lying in his golden sun's arms, Iskandor watching on. All seemed agitated. He skidded to a stop beside Balrog, and placed a paw on Ignita. He could smell her blood. “Are you hurt? What happened? Tell me!” he snarled. The scent of her blood in the air chased reason from his eyes.

"speech" & "speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Iskandor stood frozen, his brother Citadel reigning victorious, their mother crumpling in his arms. The blood pounding in Iskandor’s ears drowned out all. Except the sight before him—betrayal, heartbreak, the tearing apart of their family in a single, devastating skirmish. He watched as Citadel lowered their mother gently, almost tenderly, before stepping back, his voice resolute. More sharp than he’d ever heard his brother sound. What happened to the simply happy, mischievous Cit?“I won’t be a slave. Not now, not ever,” Citadel declared, his words so..final that they sent a chill through Iskandor’s very core.

When Citadel turned, addressing Iskandor now, his voice was lower but no less bitter. “Take care of her. Perhaps we’ll meet again one day.” And just like that, he turned from them all—mother, brothers, pack—walking away from everything they had ever known. Was it so simple? How truly hard was it? No. Iskandor wouldn’t let this stand.

Iskandor’s heart thundered in his chest, torn between loyalty to his pack and family, and to his brother. His gaze shifted to their mother, her form trembling on the ground, and then to Balrog, who stood shielding her with his fiery form, voice cracking with emotion. Balrog’s reasoning cut through Iskandor, and his gaze dropped to their mother. Her tears, her head pressed against Balrog. His golden brother's words of comfort, trembling but steady. For her. “You tried, Mom. He’s the one who failed us, not you.” Of course. What was she to do she her own son risked so much on the grounds of adventure? And yet…

The sight of his family—shattered and grieving—was almost too much to bear. Iskandor’s claws dug into the snow as he forced himself to speak, his voice choked but firm. “No, Balrog. This isn’t just his failure. It’s all of ours. We failed him just as much as he failed us. We didn’t see what he needed before it was too late. Right? Wrong? Who decides that? There is only here and now.“

He stepped closer to Ignita, his mother, his massive form lowering until he was eye level with her. His turquoise eyes, so much like Basilisk’s, softened as he addressed her. “You tried, Mother. I know you did. But this… this isn’t the end for him. It can’t be. I won’t let it be. Don’t give up on him.”

He rose again, turning his attention to Balrog. Determination in his gaze, and unwillingness to yield. “Stay with her. She needs you. Protect her. Protect Armada. That’s where you belong. But my place, for now… is with him. I won’t give up on him.” In the background, the sound of his father crashing through the brush and demanding answers.

Iskandor didn’t wait for a response. He turned toward the path Citadel had taken, despite the ache in his chest. Inskandor bolted, disappearing into the forest, his voice carried back to them, loud and certain. “I’ll bring him back. I promise.” And with that, he vanished into the trees, following the faint trail his brother had left behind.


-exit unless stopped-


"Speech"

Her eyes clouded with tears she couldn't stop.
Her son
walked
away.

Her throat closed with agony as she felt Balrog briefly leave her side. However, she gasped with a sob as he returned and attempted to soothe her. She was shaking her head, everything was getting worse! Her breath rattled against her chest as she looked into the glinting obsidian eyes of her golden boy.

"Oh Bal-" She tried to start softly when she heard Iskandor interject and then come forward. Oh her loves, how could they both be so wrong? It was neither their responsibility to raise each other nor their wayward brother. Nor soothe her aching heart. She couldn't help the way her head swayed back as she felt Iskandors next words before he said them. She tried to gather the words to speak to tell him to wait to tell him he was being so good and to please! Stay! But her mouth had stopped responding.

"Is-!" She managed to eke out between locked lips as Basilisk came on the scene and she saw her blue-eyed baby boy run after his brother. Her paw reached out as she half lunged into the paw of her husband.

"PLEASE!" She screamed into the air! Her lungs felt like they burst at the seams to call her babies back to her! Her voice - high and grief-stricken rang out across the Col as if she had any hope of calling either of them back.

Her head became heavy as she felt Bas next to her. The tears blinded her eyes as she turned to her Last Son and wrapped her arms around him. Holding on to him as if he were the very last of them all. Sobbing uncontrollably into his fur. Her fault! It was all her fault! Hers! She couldn't respond to her husband. She couldn't speak!

"Ignita"

Balrog's fiery markings seemingly pulsed with his emotions like embers stoked in the wind, a storm obviously brewing inside of him. He stood rooted to the spot he was in, watching Citadel's retreating form vanish into the forest. His brother's bitter words, the finality of his declaration, and the icy disdain cut deep. For a moment, Balrog's fiery demeanor dimmed, replaced by the same raw hurt that he knew his mother was feeling. How could Citadel walk away from them? From her? He had hoped the words he had barked at him would cause him to turn around, to retaliate, but Citadel gave them nothing.

When Iskandor spoke, Balrog's obsidian stare glinted as he looked towards him, fiery frustration brewing within him with each word that spilled from his brother's mouth. He wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that Citadel chose the path he walked. "We never turned our back on him, he did that to us. Everything he needs is still right here, available for him." His voice cracked again with the weight of his anguish; but his brother had made up his mind. His retreating form soon set off in the same trail of Citadel. He understood Iska's need to make sure Citadel was alright deep down, but it didn't make the pain of losing both of his brothers in one day any less.

Balrog's heart ached with doubt when Iska shouted back his promise, could Citadel even be brought back from his current state? Was Citadel truly lost? His chest tightened with anxiety, fear for both of his siblings filling him. Why had this happened? Why was their family so broken?

Then, Ignita's grief-stricken scream shattered the silence, drawing his attention sharply back to her. The sight of his mother, once seen as so regal, now broken and trembling, struck him like a blow. As Basilisk's powerful presence loomed beside them, Balrog stepped forward, his fiery form also pressing close to Ignita.

"Citadel risked war, trespassing into foreign territory. Mom.. tried to punish him by.. turning him into a Songbird. He... attacked her demanding his right to leave," he spoke, his blood still clearly boiling as he tried to calm himself enough to relay the events to his father. "He left, and Iska went after him.. promising to bring him back." His ears flattened a bit with his pain, his anger fleeting to be replaced by sorrow as if speaking everything outloud made reality set in.

"Mom," he whispered, his voice trembling as he buried his face in her white coat and leaned in to her. "This isn't your fault," he stated again. "He doesn't see how much you love him - want better for him." His gaze flicked up to Basilisk, searching for reassurance in his father's piercing blue eyes. He could not stare long, tears welling his eyes that he did not wish his father to see. He looked away again, and spoke with a soft but fiery tone. "We'll make it through this, Mom," he tried to comfort her. "I'll protect you. I'll protect Armada. No matter what."

He turned his gaze toward the path that Iskandor and Citadel had taken, his jaw tightening involuntarily. "If they come back, it'll be when they are ready to be a part of this family again.. and we'll be here as we always are." Despite his brave words, a flicker of doubt lingered in his obsidian eyes as he stay pressed into his mother, attempting to ground her grief with his warmth.

"Balrog"

Confusion and anger blurred his thoughts, and Ignita was barely responsive. He held her in his arms, close enough for her to still reach out to Bal and hold their child close. But a look at Bal did not enlighten him. The golden boy looked whole and unharmed. Surely not the source of his Wife’s distress?

It was up to Bal to tell the story, and he was clearly mad instead of hurt with what he had to tell. Citadel had trespassed, Ignita had attempted to make him a slave… his Citadel. His Oldest child, and one of the ones that burned the brightest with his strength and determination. He knew he hadn’t punished the boy enough for his transgressions, but a part of him had been pleased with his spirit. Trespassing was too far. Was this his fault? And Ignita, what had possessed her to attempt to turn him into a slave? His own blood!

His mouth pressed into a thin line, and he glanced at Balrog, who had more to say. The boy's loyalty was clear, and he reached out a paw and ruffled Bal’s fur; he didn’t have the words to tell him in any other way. “I think your mother and I need to talk, son. Thank you for keeping her safe for me.”

"speech" & "speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Inconsolable. A puddle in the mess of fur between son and husband. Try as she might to reel herself in the ache in her chest refused to relinquish her. She hardly heard the word Balrog told his father. She barely heard the words he spoke to her. But something in her mind was listening. Something in her mind was grasping at every breath of her beautiful son.

She kept softly shaking her head as he attempted to soothe her. Such a good boy, a faithful loyal son. She gently pulled his head within reach and pressed a tearful sorrow-filled kiss on his head. As she did to every child at bed time.

Sniffing and swallowing as much as she could she choked out the words after Bas dismissed him. Though she wanted to hold him and never let go he needed to know that his father had her.

"I-I'll be okay, m-my darling. Y-your dad has me. We'll be okay." She said weakly, trying her damndest to be strong. "I believe in you. I believe in you all." She managed to say finally. Releasing him, letting him walk back to the pack.

Her eyes were puffy and red, barely able to see. She'll fall apart more later, now she needed to face the music and speak with her husband.

She curled into the warmth of her beloved. Barely stemming the tide of tears. Tying to forge her inner strength to speak on it. She wanted to tear her fur out, scream at the skies, cry in anguish. Instead, she brought her breath into her focus. Shuddering still she looked up with red-rimmed eyes to Basilisk's face. One blond paw clutched the fur of her chest and the opal pheonix to steady her.

Her lips refused to stop trembling. "I thought... I'm sorry my Love- I... I feel like I failed you, I failed him... I failed Armada." Her chin fell more and more with every word until her eyes landed on his feet.

"speech" & "speech"

coded by NachoMumma