✧ Defense: 16
✧ Attack: 1d20+6

Grandfather — Raging Typhoon

✧ Former Crown Ruler

✧ Deceased » killed by a snowy owl at 67

Grandmother — Fading Sunlight
✧ Former consort
✧ Deceased » passed away peacefully at 88

Father — Shattered Ice
✧ Former Crown Ruler
✧ Deceased » died of unknown causes at 74
Mother — Ivory Petal
✧ Senior scout
✧ Adoptable » 90

Brother — Howling Wind
✧ Retired Crown Ruler
✧ Adoptable » 63

Former mentor — Sun Shadow
✧ Knight
✧ Adoptable » 87

Illegitimate son — Frosted Dew
✧ Knight
✧ Adoptable » 39

Illegitimate son — Raven Cry
✧ Scout
✧ Adoptable » 39

Illegitimate daughter — Shaded Moss
✧ Scout
✧ Adoptable » 39

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Sharp the lilting note of her cries, how they lingered about the upper edges and grated within young ears though muffled each utterance of her agony, intent it seemed the well worn surface of carved stone to cast forth a reverberation of it until all may know her sorrow. Long ago he had given up futile attempts to peer through the opening, the gentle press of a paw enough to dissuade, the lulling warmth of breath skirting along his ears as words were spoken for him along casting aside any further attempts. Yet nothing could quite stop the tightening grasp working through his chest, cruel the wicked press of hooked talons until beneath them his heart stuttered to an uneasy halt,  fluttering moth caught behind a cage of bone once it found rhythm once more.

Exhausted the rasping voice beckoning forth, the stretch of taunt silence following the fading echo of her final utterance broken with an air of affection. Almost did he linger, look to the matriarch yet there was a kindness in the depths of her eyes, the sweeping coil of her tail indicating his entrance was permitted. Metallic and laden with salt that which polluted the air, strange how it mixed a rancid note of copper about a faint sweetness, beneath held captive the familiar scent milk carried. Dark the space chosen, set away from the dotting mounds of nests build up with the shed quills of past catches, yet loud her breathing, the rasping edge of it speaking of a lingering pain.

Wide the soft depths of warm honey, the gentle patter of tiny paws reaching volumes unexpected, cast back as the stone walls seemed to reject his mere presence among them. Momentary his pause, seeking reasoning for why it was his mother lay in a fashion he had not witness before, none of her grace present as her limbs stretched, faint groan drawn forth no matter the slightness of each movement.

"It's alright, you won't hurt me," delicate the threading of mirth through murmured voice, sweet and welcome the curl decorating the light expanse of her muzzle.

Bolstered by the admittance he was welcome once more began his trek though slowed his momentum, slight the tremor encasing tiny paws, fixated upon what was not present before. Alike they, though standing before the tiny bundle of ivory giant does he feel, questioning the light press of a nose against the curl of her spine. Protesting the soft utterance of a warbled mew, brief the abandonment of her meal though there is nought to be done to rid herself of the cool shadow cast over her, forgotten in time as once more did the sweetness of milk call to her.

"Was I that small?" A quiet note of innocent curiosity stole into whispered query, incapable vision filled with wonder from moving, caught beneath his gaze the newborn.

What might she say within answer, how could she articulate the sudden weaving of pain and shock numbing her senses even as her nerves felt as though fire danced on each tip. Burned into her memory the night when Moonlit Oasis had been called with a stuttering, unsure voice breaking with a note of sorrow, none wishing to see another perish yet their fears were not abated until it came to an end.

"You were smaller, could even fit you on my paw with room to spare." Teasing the soft utterance casting aside a silence grown cloying and thick, clutching at her throat until stolen was her breath, or at least a farce of mirth played about its edges. Expected his presence, if only for long enough he may greet his child and set within motion the future before her, the mere utterance of a single word enough to quell doubt as to which path she may walk.

For a moment Ivory Petal looked upon her Ruler - second always the bitter concoction of tainted affection, a love that was not truly present - measured and thoughtful her tone. "Since it was your decision to name Howling Wind I thought it only fair I name her." Nothing. Though between the points of her teeth was her tongue held, expected a response of some kind, be it one that cast aside the delusion of her importance or a mere utterance of acceptance, expectant the shadowed gaze boring into her. "Owl Flight."

Cruel was she in this, brief the enjoyment she derived from the silent parting of jaws, gaping wide before the subtle click of teeth heralded the closure once more. As much as she came to crave a response that was beyond the staunch stretch of uncomfortable silence all she received was a low hum, his departure marked with no fanfare though she knew the signs of his rage, the stiff set of his muscles and the quickened step of his pace. For her had this all been, a mere jab of needle sharp claws into his heart so she may watch him squirm and realize she was not as lowly as he seemed to think.

Maybe it would have been better if he had acted in accordance to her wants, demanded of her a new name for the daughter bearing a namesake which had ripped from them her grandfather in a spray of crimson upon the fresh snow. No longer could she enjoy this moment, hollow her victory as she merely tended to her daughter, Howling Wind settling between outstretched legs to watch as she slipped into the depths of slumber.

✧

A point of affection is it all drawn from no matter how ill conceived it may be, a flawed aspect set within the core construct of all consuming worry, the gnawing press working along her stomach until shortened each pained breath.

Unbidden the rise of thought through the loose threads of her mind, ensnaring about it all else, felt the quick flicker of panic beating as though secondary heart was situated behind the first. There had been no need, thoughtful the examination of capable paws as they had tended to squirming kitten with care, the protest of each utterance bringing forth only the notion of strength, no matter the slight earliness of her birth still was there a spark in her that kept her life going. Yet victim to her own thoughts was Ivory Petal was she watched the young kitten she tended to tumble as small paws grew clumsy, tripping and stumbling, gentle the press of a nose as her footing was regained with assistance.

For a time she had kept her away, a well tended secret held close as though she were a delicate bloom like to be crushed if allowed to exit her sight, the bidding calls of the others enough to tempt the child, however, whittled down her resolve until she gave in. At times she worried, felt how the sharp twist of guilt worked through her heart when her sharp cries rose after a particularly nasty spill, soothed for a time when her progress was impeded for already was Owl Flight tended to.

Among them one in particular caught the eye and for a time, as much as she wished it to be otherwise, mother and daughter found no fault in the one deemed Widow's Web.

Unease had been within unsteady steps, felt the chill press of nose and the skirting warmth of breath laced with the sweetness of soft hum, her laughter a silver bell as she stumbled forth lost on churning gears its edging of worry. Loud all around and Ivory Petal barely tamped down the want to reach out, once more pull her daughter in close so from the world could she be protected, but uncaring Owl Flight in the budding joy of restrictive freedom. Not the first was he, far from such, though oddity was he in a way that caught the eye and held it. Boisterous and rough the play of those about toddling kitten, among the fray brother though no longer was he one of them, lifted to a height where under father was he now a pupil.

Trampling paws, unheard the utterance of fearful cries, barely swallowed a cry rising as pale paws swept her up. Howling Wind. Tremor laced his paws, worked until his frame shook with each, hidden beneath laughter that did not find root in wide eyes. Yet it was another, aside he sat, the fine lacing of silver dancing about the tips of white coat mesmerizing. Poor outcome of her first taste of freedom but it was enough to loosen her tongue and nothing could stop Owl Flight, sought the one who hardly spoke and yet, when done so, lifted with an air of joy and curiosity his voice until enrapt had she grown no matter the lack of understanding.

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"Howl?" Tentative the lifted squeak of gentle voice, an utterance coiled across her tongue, heavy its weight pressing deep until the points of tiny teeth took hold about tip. Worried the muscle for a time, unmistakable the rise of worry in depths that had lightened over the short span of her life, the once tranquil depths of cornflower slow in its loss, the fine shading of budding spring overtaking widened eyes.

Sight was she, framed within the rough hewn stone opening into the depths of nursery tinged with its heavy note of milk about stale air split by joy touched exclamations, drawn into herself until the fluffed coat of ivory seemed little more then a mound of wayward snow the uneasy lash of tiny tail skirting along the ground. Loud had been the voicing of her anguish when it had grown clear from her would Howling Wind be taken, none quite sure how to handle her outbursts until temper was smoothed by lackluster offering.

It was as such she waited, ignored all though the passage of some brought with it lingering gazes, upon the tips of their tongues questions or offering of activity to tide her over, all departing when tiny features had scrunched up in a snarl. Or at least the approximation of such, rather endearing the sight in a manner none voiced aloud.

The name rose once more, lingering behind closed mouth before the echoing note of hurried steps met her, of a more languid pace a secondary, the light manner in which the tread was accomplished nearly drowned out. Quivering each tight muscle until, with no thought as to the thoughts of those left in her wake even as a reprimanding call tried to draw her back, Owl Flight was stumbling forth in a clumsy run. Familiar the warmth of limb she strode into, the short utterance of laughter not matching the grimace painted across silver toned features, momentary his attention before to companion did it flick.

"I-I'm sorry, Owl, I can't pl-play right now." Near to pained the uneasy curl of lackluster smile, startled from her a gentle sound, the fine points of claws digging into delicate skin beneath the leg she clutched though far from her want to harm even as a grimace took hold and spoke of such. "I'll come visit y-you later, I ha-ave a few new feathers to sh-how you."

There was nothing within her limited lexicon that may voice the roiling disappointed coiled within her chest, pressing close until caught her heart, cruel its squeeze as her breath rushed forth bound with a quiet whimper. No chance was presented, if even her tongue may formulate the response she carried a desire to speak, disentangled though left for only a moment was she before a paw wound about her. Well she knew the lingering sweetness of milk, the trailing notes of flora that thrived within such conditions, and beneath something solely of her mother, heady and comforting.

✧

Lost within the slow tumble of her thought the numerous times his voice had risen, filled the cavernous space with a soft edging of budding sorrow, beneath it caught the trailing notes of panic.

Near enough bold may his actions have been deemed when the days proceedings wound to a close, worn beneath rough play the sparking energy propelling each forth with wild abandoned, the soft murmur of want to continue, begging amused mothers to allow them a little longer never quite drowning out the heaviness of each step. Yet there had been a moment, lingering within the threshold until a mere shade seemed he, apart of the rock about him with how still he had grown as the gradual sweep of his eyes took in all. There was no words in the soft utterance of their voices, the press of tiny paws flattened ears against her skull in a weak bid to drown out the offend sound.

Upon the surface of her tongue venom laced insult lingering, soft their edges as her mind sought a concoction of misheard words and those she was told not to utter for impolite each in their own way, yet the crevice in which she lingered, the tight hold of the encasing walls comforting in a fashion unexpected, forth echoing only the broken sound of barely stifled sob. There was nothing that may clear the overloaded silence hanging as though it were a fog, before them stretching unseen a precipice opened like a yawning maw, yet upon many did his teeth work, tested them with hushed breath before aside it was all placed. Poor them both with the words dancing across caged tongue, the quiet stutter of heaving breath alighting within his chest an aching note of sorrow, sigh dancing within the chilled air as he thought best of speaking.

From the intrusion did Owl Flight flinch, the stretch of glimmering crescents stilled when deposited was a collection of feathers, bent the shaft of some, others the barbs a mess of colour, muddled in the haste executed in their plucking. Reverence in the slow movement of tiny paw, tickling along the pale surface of pad the fine strands, steady the passage though aftermath was no less chaotic then what had been given. Momentary the meeting of eyes, lingering upon one another and her mouth opened in futile attempt, echoing within the contained space the click of teeth settling together once more.

How may she articulate the budding growth of spiraling heat encircling the hammering beat of stuttering heart, give short lived life to the soft cotton buzz of static filling her head until the lull of grief tainted by rage was all she knew.

Clumsy the tongue trying to warp each breath, put within shaky boundaries a meaning that may convey in volumes higher then the prick of heat encircling her eyes. There was no need for such, or it may have been the soft patter of each drop upon the rocky surface of the ground spoke in a fashion her voice was robbed of, the hiccup of a startled breath breaking into a quiet sob. No matter how she wanted to push him away, reject the warmth of his coat where it pressed along her, loose the circle of his body wound about her, comfort was present in lengthy strands tiny paws pulled at.

There was no need for useless words yet they arose, the stuttering, broken string of mumbled words offered a landscape of green and heat, sluggish her thoughts as she was caught within the sweetness of fable.

✧

Squire
» Six to twelve months

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Mindless chatter riding upon the uneasy curl of static laced thought, pointless each further word tacked on to ever heightening pitch of lifted voice, harsh its reverb as the rocky landscape threw it back at them.

Unexpected had been the rasping call, ringing forth within the wide expanse of roughly hewn rock until each eye turned with inquisitive glaze to where the short jut of a ledge held aloft the one deemed Shattered Ice. Silent her presence framed within the opening leading into expansive den, barely registered how his attention settled and pulled at her, light the tremor encasing wandering paws, the soft tap of each step a thunderous clap in the echoing space of still air. Little more then autopilot had guided her forth with a sense of trepidation, the memory caught in muscle assisting where her brain struggled to process the scene before her at a sluggish pace.

No matter his words, how it twisted and turned about her head and caught was her attention when his address rang forth through the soft pulse of confused static filling her mind with a droning buzz of unease, lost Owl Flight until unwelcome guest intruded. Then mere face within the crowd was he though from the masses was he set apart, how the darkness of delicate patching spun between the ivory of thickened coat in mesmerizing fashion, mirrored all that was drawn across slack features within his own.

Fitting such title worn upon shoulders bearing the shade of ebony, from him taken the soft palette of snow and ice, of a sky stretching forth with the soft accumulation of waning light. Yet strange a fellow was he no matter the shortness of their acquaintance, abstract and minimal that which propelled him forth with an odd collapse of forelimbs that nearly brought his cranium down to the rocky floor of the cave, tangent sought and continued on until another caught his mind until ceaseless was the hum of his voice. Indeed, within the half hour they had been within the presence of one another, brief had been the pauses between useless drivel so breath may be drawn.

"Training." Though upon the tip of her tongue lingered remark swallowed the harsh comment, tiresome grown his voice until a faint ghost of it danced about her mind. Wanted was this, the chance she may prove her use was beyond that then a secondary heir cast aside into the shadow until such a time as her father deemed her fit for the throne, poor the cast of a brother lacking in all ways. For a mere moment slowed her steps, faltering as breath broke with a quiet grumble, displeasure twisting across the expanse of her ivory features.

It would do no good for either of them if she deemed him such, though weak had grown Howling Wind in the proceeding days since their 'talk' and startled had she been from restless slumber when from his control had seemed all taken. Upon his doorstep lingered death, merely awaiting with fist of bone raised for the moment the clock struck twelve, but seized her heart in a squeezing fist when she thought on such though strange how pleasant had grown the fantasies of standing alone in a place rightfully her own to claim.

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Rise as the sun was a mere sliver of golden light spilling forth in unbroken streams across the frigid snow laced landscape. Find a morsel small enough it may quieten the displeasure of her empty stomach but incapable of causing upset. Walk the perimeter as it stretched down to meet the sandy expanse of beach, stolen a few mere moments of budding warmth. Spend the later half of her day upon the wide expanse of the plateau, paws frosted and near numb from the tedious work of clearing the speckling of snow, the burn of her muscles igniting a fire roaring through her belly, the thrill of even such mock battle singing within her veins.

Monotonous cycle constantly circling back upon itself, spaced in such a fashion those few hours her time was solely her own to fill in a fashion deemed befitting grew a dull prize, fine the budding hatred for the inactivity of time wasted. Some dark corner of her mind whispered to her in lilting tones that her health was ailing, spiraling as the gnawing press of accumulated darkness encased the sluggish trudge of thought held at bay by the aching heat of overtaxed muscle.

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The somewhat sadistic ice queen is here and ready to kick ass.