but the wolf...

Elías is restless. It's hardly abnormal, considering the nature of his family — and his self — but the Sigrún being so fully uprooted has him particularly on edge. And so whilst Revna and Eira rest (not particularly far away in some shelter they've staked out for themselves) he paces. He paces the blackened shoreline, the waves of a windy night crashing eagerly against his legs, the wild curls of his mane more tousled than usual. Vellen, he knows, is restless; it shows in the swelling storm, and the clouds that cross the path of a full moon. They are meant to be a unified force, but they have been divided since the moment he arrived — and before, he is certain. Greed had driven particular members of his family to overplay their hand, and now they all suffer for it. And whilst their enemy grows, they are splintered — uncomfortably vulnerable.

@Saga

the wolf only needs enough luck to find you once

code by corvus

she doesn't feel the same restlessness; saga is, for a change, at ease with herself and the sigrún's situation. she finally sees what hákon has been saying for so long: crowns are pointless. she's no less a queen now than she's ever been - whether the rest of amaryllis knows it or not. so while @Elías paces, the jarl sits half in and half out of the den she's chosen on the seashore. her forepaws are crossed at the ankle and her eye half-closed. inside, she was simmering despite the placid expression. hillevi is still missing and there's been hide nor hair of her since before the family meeting. it disturbs the mother greatly and she's exhausted herself pacing the lines of the country looking for her. with young ones to nurse and raise, however, she can't go too far for too long and she's forced herself back to their side to rest ( or so she says ) and to console them. her mind is heavy with the impending yearling ceremonies that need done, the rike lurking around every corner and the disappearance of both of her middle litter. she might have dozed, waiting for hákon, but she hears her cousin's steps and her eye opens wider, snapping to land on the half-maned man as he paces along the dark shores. she ponders for a long moment whether to interrupt him, but the frustration is palpable. so with a wry glance at her now-fed litter, happily dozing in a pile around the den, she heaves herself to her paws and ambles unhurriedly to his side. she moves to fall into pace alongside his right side, her left eye sliding to the corner to regard him stoically - waiting for him to spill the beans.

table by koi // stock

but the wolf...

It is not the loss of crown that bothers Elías; much like Saga, he has never seen the value in such a thing, or a point in wasting his time worrying about lions who are not his family. What does get under his skin, however, is how fractured the Sigrún seem — a ship with no anchor, tossed about in the storm. And whilst they are disorganized and without direction, their enemy controls a throne and has the space and privacy to breed, only promising future hardship in the months to come. Elías is a militant man, and all he can see is how wildly disadvantageous the situation is.

He sees Saga approaching from further inland, slowing his stride to welcome her presence beside him with a discontented rumble in his chest. "This family is splintered," he states plainly, meeting her expectant look with his functioning eye. "When I arrived in this land, we were split between three prides, and helmed two of them. Why?" Elías presses with something of a frown pulling at his lips. When did greed become the baseline for the Sigrún? At what point had politics and the thirst for a title overshadowed all else?

the wolf only needs enough luck to find you once

code by corvus

she appreciates that her cousin doesn't beat around the bush. the two of them are, she thinks, dreadfully similar - and that's either the best or worst thing to happen to the sigrún in amaryllis. time will tell, no doubt. his rumble is met with a gruff sound of her own, though her lips remain pressed together while he sets his problem down at her table. the ghost of a smile teases the edge of her dark lips, and she exhales from her nose, rolling a shoulder to loosen the knot of muscle there. "expectations." she finally says, her eye shifting from him to the sea, where she regards the waves fondly. "magnus held the hollows when i arrived. we moved to the lagoon and his wife held the hollows for a time." her expression turns sour and she slides her gaze back to her cousin. "ulla followed suit. it's expected from the lions in the greenland that a powerful family holds a crown." her distaste is obvious and her scowl deepens. "i've come to hate it." she admits, though that's no surprise after her declaration at the family meeting, surely.

table by koi // stock

but the wolf...

He listens to her explanation in silence, but it would be a lie to call it a contented one. Elías, truly, is not amused by the ways in which his family seems to have been warped by this land. Even Revna seems determined to get the Cove back — if not for their sake, then for Eira's. That, however, is another matter entirely, and he shrugs it to the back of his mind for now.

"A crown, or many?" he returns, his tone sharp. His irritation is not directed at Saga, but it is still palpable, a tension that could be cut with a knife. Elías would have made no complaint if he'd come to find his family all settled in one place, helming a single pride, for the sake of safety and power. But this — this is a farce, if you ask him. And to hear that it has stemmed from Magnus puts him at a state of unease; he would have thought that his elder cousin would have greater sense than that. How lost they have been without Elías, it would seem.

He pauses in his stride, settling enough at least to linger in the waves of a billowing storm, and to focus the majority of his attention upon Saga. "And what of Sjórbjörn?" he queries, doubting that he needs to elaborate on the intent of his question. Barring the fact that a boy barely past adolescence had somehow become their jarl in the first place, how is it that he had so soon conceded to Saga? A woman who, perhaps, should have been bestowed the position long ago. Elías believes in tradition, but more than that, he believes in the best lion for the job, and he happens to think that sex should have little to do with it; the rest of his family has never been quite so progressive.

the wolf only needs enough luck to find you once

code by corvus

she says nothing to the sharpness of his retort, only steadily stares at him, the answer obvious. amaryllis is so vastly different than their home that she, too, sees the way it has skewed them. it is refreshing in so many ways to see fresh-faced sigrún bringing with them the taste of tradition. he asks of her nephew and a frown touches her lips, ears laying back. "he lost his daughter and grief took him away." a vague answer, but the only one she has for him. "i refused the position when magnus stepped down." insight, she supposes, to how bear had gotten it in the first place and her gaze strays to the sea where she lets her gaze rest. "tradition says the men hold it. but bear demanded that i take it and i've had help seeing... that some traditions are not so well-intentioned." she doesn't mention that a skagosi helped her see - there was no reason to divulge her closeness to their sister clan, not now anyway. a pause where she swings her head back to him, calculating. "are you asking for the position?" saga queries - and though there is no outright challenge in her tone, there's a fire in her gaze that suggest @Elías might not find it easy to pry from her claws, tradition or not.

table by koi // stock

but the wolf...

There is a tension that ripples through him at the explanation — an understanding of such a pain, but Elías keeps his well-guarded. Bear's inability to combat his grief for the sake of the rest of them is a testament to his youth, and just how improper of a choice he had been for the position. There is a stark difference, he thinks, between those of them who can shoulder loss and expectations at the same time, and those who cannot. The Sigrún, after all, are somewhat bred for tragedy. Vellen makes certain of it — and only the ones who can grin and bear it will survive long enough to earn their seat in His hall.

He has further questions about Magnus, too, and his role in all of this, his acceptance of it. But he is pulled past those thoughts when Saga speaks of tradition, and goes on to question him pointedly. Elías can't help the audible snort that exhales from him — a breath of a laugh, met with a cool smirk. "No," he returns, angling his chin to the side so that he can fully meet her gaze. That is not to say that Elías would not be capable, and they both know it, but ambition has never been his drive — not with the intent of ousting someone who is equally as fit for the job. Such a notion only serves to feed into the toxic mindset that this place has instilled in his family.

"I agree with you. A female jarl is unorthodox, but I see no cause to contest it. I am not here to drive a wedge where it does not belong." It is, perhaps, the closest he will come to outright saying that Saga deserves to be their jarl — and she well knows that Elías is not ever a complimentary man. Humility and humbleness are not in his nature.

the wolf only needs enough luck to find you once

code by corvus

there's a moment where they carefully watch one another, both gently testing the strength and mettle of the other. and when her cousin finally huffs out a laugh, a slow smile spreads across her lips. good, she thinks, but doesn't say it. she would hate to have to fight right now - she's weary of it, for the moment, and could use an extra ally or two. her muscles relax and she rolls her neck to release some of the tension, not caring if @Elías sees how his admission means she's no longer ready for a spat. he would expect nothing less, she's sure.

"i would you to help me mend the divide we do have." she tells him plainly, with a sigh. "there have been... problems. and i seek to solve them but i need a second." a brow lifts and she levels her eye on him, waiting for his acceptance - she doesn't imagine it'll be any issue, getting him to agree.

table by ferus & lineart by eerien00dle