Ring of Storms [1]

57.

Tainted was her columbine habiliment. Saturated was her embellished regalia in sanguine hues so deep they soaked through each layer of icy fabric. The earth had accepted the tint as a sacrificial offering, one of many. Likewise, the Gods had hummed in content; finally, the definitive moment had arrived. Sixth Prophecy.

☾︎.❦︎.☽︎

Atmospheric conditions chilled by the presence of snow enclosed an array of

Animated chatters kick-started by

A compelling oration granted to a thousand eager ears,

All witnessed in part by one she-wolf in dire need of the earth swallowing her up.

Her fingers flexed, inconspicuously, in odd angles, bending and morphing into ancient signs as she tried to will the snow-clad earth to do her bidding.

If you grant this one wish, I promise to give you my first-born son ...and maybe my left kidney as well; she promised its silvery-white essence, which lay unbothered beneath her boots, accepting each drifting flake from above unto its ever-amassing heap.

Murmurs rippled past in time to the harmonious shuffling of feet. The colosseum had drawn quite the crowd. Farmers hard at work had long forgotten the toil of their labour. Rowdy youths sauntered over with keen interest and ageing wolves, hugging steaming cups of coffee to themselves, leant over the railings with alert orbs eyeing the whole scene. There was no truer saying than news spreads like wildfire especially when one considered the vastness of the Black Moon pack.

Instantaneously, her distracted attention was drawn from the crowd and to Aryn who boomed, loudly, from within the ring.

"It is a known tradition that in times where an unmated wolf refuses to desist from pursuing the mate of another then a bonded match is usually agreed upon to settle the disagreement once and for all,"

His stance wielded unquestioned supremacy and exuded confidence as he morphed, effortlessly, into his role as Alpha.

"The sparring wolves would usually showcase their skills to the watchful eyes of the object of their affection...." he paused, scanning the faces of his pack members, a tactic to ensure that he was carrying them along. A show of enthusiastic nods confirmed that they knew exactly what he was talking about and he proceeded.

"....more like an appeal, if you would, to the wolf side and whoever proved to be the strongest of the two won the affections of his mate or to be marked mate," he cast a glance towards the white-wolf standing upright and relaxed next to Yil and scowled.

He wasn't one to be easily consumed by emotions, be it on the extreme side of the spectrum, bothering into destruction or the feelings one might regard as warm and wholesome. Especially for persons he barely knew. However, everything about this particular wolf irked him. Flashbacks of the sensual act he had witnessed not long ago arose in colourful holographic illustrations to taunt his psyche. Just as similar depictions of what he had shared with Star materialised to tug at his conscience.

Wasn't it quite hypocritical that he had now assumed the hurt, betrayed mate when he had done the same behind Yil's back?

He blocked out the doubtful voice with an inconspicuous shake of his head and inhaled, deeply. Looking back at the chain of events, everything had taken a turn for the worse the very day he had beheld the one white-wolf, responsible for his failed relationship with Yil. For with Rae's presence came the pain and hurtful realisation which had ultimately led to him seeking comfort in the hands of the one who so willingly offered it.