11-06-2013, 03:13 PM
Some Kinfolk carry guns with them. Some carry children. Others carry hesitancy for what is about to happen, and hide from it and the cool of the night in the safety of the house build onto the property where all had been summoned that night. Lola fits only one of these descriptions. She doesn't have children at her side or on her hip, and she absolutely refuses to go hide in the house. She does have a rifle strapped to her back, though, and it looks as natural there as the nose on her face. That's just the kind of personality she is.
She stands with Celduin, at the Alpha's side through the duration of what we'll call a 'ceremony' for the sake of literacy. She looks right here, with her chin high and her shoulders squared and the expression on her face somewhere between stern and stormy. She could very well be a part of the pack, truely, lending her teeth and claws to their cause. Well, she may not have teeth or claws that are worth a damn, but that rifle and the raw iron strength of her limbs seem to suffice, if you're to believe the spirits and Wolves who speak her praises.
She's stock still and unchanging, unmoving, unflinching through much of the affair. Hector will hold her hand, and she'll lace his fingers with his and return the gesture, but at points she'll break away to shift her posture and stick her hands in her pockets instead. She is disciplined enough not to become restless through the lengthy punishment set upon Forge of Nótt, though a certain light does flash in Lola's eyes at something she heard the Forgotton Questions Ritemaster say and her eyebrows do lift as a thought occurs. But that passes, and her expression returns to the hard expression that says you deserved all of this once again.
The last two to be punished do cause a chance in the Kinswoman, though. When a wolf is seized by the throat, flayed, and dropped as a Man, the cold air catches in her lungs and her spine stiffens and she squeezes Hector's hand, just a little, just for a moment.
But the Uktena Galliard knows what comes next because he's seen it before, and he loops a surprisingly strong arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side. She doesn't resist because there's a cold dread that has settled in her bones, put there by the mysterious box that ate a man's Wolf, kept there by all that followed. The story that her Galliard had shared about a terrible punishment rite that's surreal and seldom starts to prickle in her memory when she watches the Elder of the City Sept have her face smeared with blood. Lola's all too willing to press herself into Hector's side while this happens, but does her best to keep her shoulders turned straight, to not look away, because The Wolves are Watching.
A certain Shadow Lord Cliath causes a fuss and frenzies in his outrage. Wolves cuff him and pin him down and steal his consciousness when he goes into a fit and cannot be contained. Lola's attention is pulled after him, her attention to what fate was falling upon the Grand Elder broken, and she shouts something in a tight, strained, highly stressed voice at Erich that is lost to the screams of Curved Sky and the roaring snarls of the Garou that contained their brother.
There's outrage in her chest, stress misdirected at a Cliath Ahroun who couldn't hold himself back, but Hector doesn't let her go (even though she had pulled away from him to try [stupidly] to lay words and hands upon Erich for his behavior) and she stays with Celduin after all.
By the time all is said and done, families gather their children, Wolves find their Kin, and they all drift back home. In this time Lola will touch with both Tamsin and Thomas in ways that suit them best-- for Tamsin a hug, for Thomas a laying of her hand on his neck and jaw. The gestures were bracing, affectionate in their own way, but brief none the less.
She was tired. And she already knew that nightmares would follow her slumber tonight.
She stands with Celduin, at the Alpha's side through the duration of what we'll call a 'ceremony' for the sake of literacy. She looks right here, with her chin high and her shoulders squared and the expression on her face somewhere between stern and stormy. She could very well be a part of the pack, truely, lending her teeth and claws to their cause. Well, she may not have teeth or claws that are worth a damn, but that rifle and the raw iron strength of her limbs seem to suffice, if you're to believe the spirits and Wolves who speak her praises.
She's stock still and unchanging, unmoving, unflinching through much of the affair. Hector will hold her hand, and she'll lace his fingers with his and return the gesture, but at points she'll break away to shift her posture and stick her hands in her pockets instead. She is disciplined enough not to become restless through the lengthy punishment set upon Forge of Nótt, though a certain light does flash in Lola's eyes at something she heard the Forgotton Questions Ritemaster say and her eyebrows do lift as a thought occurs. But that passes, and her expression returns to the hard expression that says you deserved all of this once again.
The last two to be punished do cause a chance in the Kinswoman, though. When a wolf is seized by the throat, flayed, and dropped as a Man, the cold air catches in her lungs and her spine stiffens and she squeezes Hector's hand, just a little, just for a moment.
But the Uktena Galliard knows what comes next because he's seen it before, and he loops a surprisingly strong arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side. She doesn't resist because there's a cold dread that has settled in her bones, put there by the mysterious box that ate a man's Wolf, kept there by all that followed. The story that her Galliard had shared about a terrible punishment rite that's surreal and seldom starts to prickle in her memory when she watches the Elder of the City Sept have her face smeared with blood. Lola's all too willing to press herself into Hector's side while this happens, but does her best to keep her shoulders turned straight, to not look away, because The Wolves are Watching.
A certain Shadow Lord Cliath causes a fuss and frenzies in his outrage. Wolves cuff him and pin him down and steal his consciousness when he goes into a fit and cannot be contained. Lola's attention is pulled after him, her attention to what fate was falling upon the Grand Elder broken, and she shouts something in a tight, strained, highly stressed voice at Erich that is lost to the screams of Curved Sky and the roaring snarls of the Garou that contained their brother.
There's outrage in her chest, stress misdirected at a Cliath Ahroun who couldn't hold himself back, but Hector doesn't let her go (even though she had pulled away from him to try [stupidly] to lay words and hands upon Erich for his behavior) and she stays with Celduin after all.
By the time all is said and done, families gather their children, Wolves find their Kin, and they all drift back home. In this time Lola will touch with both Tamsin and Thomas in ways that suit them best-- for Tamsin a hug, for Thomas a laying of her hand on his neck and jaw. The gestures were bracing, affectionate in their own way, but brief none the less.
She was tired. And she already knew that nightmares would follow her slumber tonight.