10-17-2013, 08:24 AM
The Cracking begins and Ingrid sits with her Alpha and she waits. She is not the Fool this month, that position - to honor or disgrace the one who holds it - rests on another Ragabash's shoulders. No, tonight Ingrid is merely Cliath, so she must wait through the stories, and she must wait for the elders to speak their peace. When finally she rises from her place among the crowd, tensions are high. If she feels it, it doesn't show as she threads her way between the various other wolves, past other packs, her head held high, hands folded before her until she reaches the Great Alpha.
Ingrid lowers her head respectfully as she dips to collect the rack in both hands. As soon as she's upright, she bends at the waist, to the Great Alpha, and then to each of the Elders behind him in turn. Because the question she has is for him and for them.
"Honored Elders of Forgotten Questions," she says, her head lowered, humble as she stands before them, so small and so fragile before the great dire wolf form of the Great Elder.
"What has happened to the leaders of the Sept of the Cold Crescent?"
Whatever else this Shadow Lord Cliath may be, she is Ragabash. It is her duty to question. And though it may end with her torn and bloodied for her insolence, crumpled on the ground at their feet, it will not un-ask the question that must be on so many minds tonight. Question asked, she lowers the bone to the ground and steps back.
Ingrid lowers her head respectfully as she dips to collect the rack in both hands. As soon as she's upright, she bends at the waist, to the Great Alpha, and then to each of the Elders behind him in turn. Because the question she has is for him and for them.
"Honored Elders of Forgotten Questions," she says, her head lowered, humble as she stands before them, so small and so fragile before the great dire wolf form of the Great Elder.
"What has happened to the leaders of the Sept of the Cold Crescent?"
Whatever else this Shadow Lord Cliath may be, she is Ragabash. It is her duty to question. And though it may end with her torn and bloodied for her insolence, crumpled on the ground at their feet, it will not un-ask the question that must be on so many minds tonight. Question asked, she lowers the bone to the ground and steps back.