Koa Revin || Warrior || M: Catori (Dir); Cornaith, Drama (Ind)

It didn't take long for tensions to escalate after the Elders' announcements. The general murmurings and unease had already brought Koa to the edge of his seat, but when his eyes caught Cyrus drawing his hand back from a scratched Alvaerelle, a strangled cry escaped him and he stood, reaching out as if that would have somehow changed what had already been done. Catori's order to move with her came at the perfect time, and Koa used the momentum of his initial lunge to continue forward. Alvaerelle's feral snarl at the approaching warriors, Cornaith included, halted them all, but no one looked less tense for it. Koa kept his place behind and to the side of Catori, gaze fixed on the pair.

Alvaerelle's exit into the trees was followed by Cyrus's own departure, and the tension in the air lessened somewhat. It took a moment for regular conversation to begin again, and when it did, Catori left Koa and joined up with Cornaith. As the other warrior had been closer and one of the first to rush to the queen's aid, Koa had no doubt that it would be their conversation starter.

He decided to let them be and instead moved back to the food table. While his metabolism had come to a screeching halt at the sign of potential danger, it was back with a vengeance now. All that dancing and adrenaline had left him ravenous -- never mind that he'd had three plates already. Koa happily sat down with yet another heaping dish and began to demolish the meat, bread, and fruit that awaited him there. His eyes wandered around the clearing, catching the lieutenant -- no, the stand-in chief -- and Cornaith inching ever closer to each other. Huh; that was interesting. Koa's chewing slowed and he tilted his head in curiosity. They looked a bit cozy. Had Cornaith been planning to court her? Koa pursed his lips, the dance returning to the forefront of his memory. He hadn't butted in to Cornaith's dish, had he? Usually, they were quite adept at reading each other's intentions; Koa would have to bring that up later. Naith had always been the more serious one about women; Koa himself had barely even kissed anyone, let alone considered actually courting those he flirted with. Perhaps that was a bit scummy. He'd have to get his brother's-in-arms opinion on that matter, too. When it came to women, Cornaith was a fountain of experience and knowledge, albeit a rather sassy one.

"Ho, now," he mumbled under his breath, a surprised but amused tone taking over as Cornaith whisked the woman away with some very suggestive movements between the two. Their forms receded from the firelight, leaving Koa with a dumbstruck grin. Wow. Cornaith was really fishing for a shark tonight; that answered the question of his pursuits, at least. Now, instead of "so did I steal your dance tonight?" it would have to be "sorry I stole your dance tonight." Ah, well, if worst came to worst, Cornaith would be extra hard in a training session and then they'd be friends again. Koa couldn't keep the amazement away at his friend having romantically approached Catori with such boldness, though. Apparently, there was something in the air with the feral women and ballsy warriors, but Koa was content to just watch it all play out.

The young woman, was quite bored with the celebrations. After all they weren't meant for her, and she was growing tired - quite ready to retire to her bed, her little ones were giving her quite the handful . They seemed to share her annoyance as well. And she had to huff at the sight of Cyrus and her favorite Queen dancing together. It seemed that her mother and aunt, had things in plan, and she turned her attention to them. It seems they had a prophecy, and she found herself listening to them with interest. Ever since she was a child she had admired her aunt and mother, the legacy they held and the importance of their role within the Clan. They could communicate with Gods, and this made her want to be like them - it's partially why she became a gatherer versus a warrior. To learn the way of medicine, she was an expert in her craft, being able to heal most anyone that needed her help. She poured over the instructions her mother gave her , and she wanted nothing more than to make her proud in this regard. She knew the past Shaman, and worked well with her , and she though not envious, would've like to see what she saw as a Shaman. She wished to be respected like that, and she wanted that honor to become a Shaman - serving her clan in the best way she could. After all she had the experience and care, and that's when she heard the name called. And she felt her herself freeze in her position, eyes wide and confused as she looked at the young woman called upon. Her eye twitched slightly, surely she had misheard ? But no, she hadn't - and she could feel her lip turn into a tight line, her grip on the cup of water she held tightening a bit and she looked into the cup.

She could see the mirrored reflection of her disappointment. And she felt so bad that she was threatening to spill tears , she took a calming breath. Her teeth gritting, the sounds of congratulations and support fading from her ears as she tuned it out. It was silly to be so upset over such a position, after all she wasn't entitled to it - but, why did it hurt ? Someone who had barely reached the cusp as a full adult, nor even aspired for the position had bested her in it. She just felt . . . embarrassed, as if she had loss a game she didn't even know she was playing - was this one of her mother's tricks to embarrass her? Because if so, it surely was working - a bit too well if she might add, and she gave a forlorn sigh. She felt foolish for even getting her hopes up that she would achieve such a position, and she silently arose from her spot - and she had to say she had zoned out pretty badly. She had missed all the action, it seems there was quite an argument and fight about the new positions . She didn't even notice that Catori was now the stand-in Chief, and Ivan the Lieutenant - she'd have to celebrate with them when she was in a better mood. She silently grumbled , massaging her temples that had began to ache due to her mood.

She made her way to her beloved, and simpler rested her head on him, taking in his scent and presence. She didn't care if she was being clingy, this would soothe her nerves, before she decided to bite someone's head off.

" Looks like this night was rather eventful, " she mused a rather bitter expression on her face and tone of voice. She could only hope her husband didn't speak of the annoyed hiss that followed it. " Our Elder's have graciously bestowed their wisdom upon us ; and have given us a bit of structure admist the chaos of losing pillars of our clan." She spoke , trying to lighten the mood and appear gracious, but inside she was seething . She really wanted to be ugly, but she couldn't blame anyone for her deficiency in not getting the role or that someone less experienced was chosen. She just needed to hold her head and move it, maybe she'd never gain the role - maybe her temper was too much for it, and maybe she'd need a different perspective. But that was a long way's off. She mustered the best grin she could at her husband and focused on the chaotic events before her.

Esen Eradia || Apprentice || M: Syllivanna, Other Apprentices

She gave Syl an appreciative smile. The other girl was right; each apprentice had a strength to balance another's weakness, and they were all going to have to work together to get out of these trials in one piece. If the prophecy was real, then Esen suspected there would be more difficulties than normal. Her mind wandered to Koa's mishap and the many others who had suffered injury or death. What would happen this go-around? She could only pray none of them would die; imagining life without any one of them left a strange taste in her mouth.

"Wait. Dance with boys? On purpose?" Esen asked, catching her cousin lightly by the arm. She probably hadn't meant it in a romantic manner, given that the younger heir was skipping after Cyrus' son, who was in some distorted love-hate triangle with Sarolta and Aelion. That left Merrick and Baiyen, neither of which Esen knew very well, and she'd never been one to approach those she wasn't already familiar with. "Well... I guess I could go with Kethryll'ia and see what's up with him and Akith'ki."

That had been a bit of a surprise; she hadn't expected that kind of boldness from her friend -- but she'd danced with the devil himself that night, so who was she to speak of playing out-of-character? She shook her head and cleared her throat before taking a few slow steps forward. She allowed herself to be pulled along towards the other apprentices. Sarolta was by Akith'ki, and while Esen sent a wave in her other cousin's direction, she did not make a move to break away from Syl and intrude on whatever the two were discussing. Knowing Saro, they probably involved world domination anyway, which was not a topic of much interest for the blue-haired girl.

Lowering her voice to keep them out of earshot of the others they approached, Esen teased, "Are you going after Aelion? Merrick? Baiyen? They're all handsome."

She thought she'd picked up on a slight crush of Syl's for Aelion, though playing with Sarolta's toys always brought the danger of getting burned. Esen stopped while they were still far enough away for Syl to answer without fear of any of the trio overhearing them. Now that the question had been asked, Esen was more and more curious as to who -- if anyone -- her cousin had eyes for. Of course, if Syllivanna wanted her to, Esen would carry that secret to the grave. Even the ancestors wouldn't get it out of her in the afterlife. However, it would make teasing easier. After they survived the trials.

Cornaith Iliven

At the females latch upon his finger a wry chuckle would escape him along with a predatory growl. Upon her release of his thumb he’d watch her intently focusing her touch upon him. He’d purr, closing his eyes thoroughly embracing every touch she brushed against his skin and muscles.

“Distract me, Cornaith. I only want to think of you.”

Upon her near breathless words his eyes burned upon her own dark emerald ones, a grin plastered upon his scarred face.

“As you wish, Catori. Perhaps, I provide you with more than just a simple distraction and thoughts of me.” He’d chide, in a low purr, bringing himself closer to her drawing his lips closer to hers until they finally made contact with one another.

He’d allow his own teeth to gently take a grasp of her bottom lip and bring it in toward himself, releasing it to return to where it once sat. He’d bring his right arm closer to her, bringing his fingers to entangle themselves in her vibrant fiery hair, drawing his lips to hers once more.

Catori was intoxicating in a manner that Naith had yet to experience from any other female. She had him entranced and desiring more, but for tonight he’d allow her to set the pace. He deeply enjoyed the idea of having to prove himself to win her affection and would surely find ways to do so in perhaps a manner that wasn’t as public unless she explicitly desired it to be so. He would not allow warriors and gatherers alike to doubt Catori's authority by the likes of himself attempting to involve himself in her life. For all he knew Cyrus would likely see this as a way for Naith to work his way up the ranks as well were it even feasibly possible, which hadn't been his intentions at all.

Elariel Quercus

Warrior | Mentions: Althaea, Cyrus, Ravae

Elariel tensed at his mate’s soft voice, her expression bitter as she spoke about the Elders and their “wisdom.” He scrunched his nose at her comments, feeling a mixture of irritation and concern. He knew she was trying her best to maintain composure, far better than he had managed, especially as she forced a smile in his direction. Her effort to remain calm only heightened his own tension, amplifying the protective instincts that bubbled beneath the surface. He wanted to reassure her, to remind her that she was good enough to be Shaman, but the weight of the evening hung heavy in the air, making it difficult to find the right words.

He took a deep breath, grounding himself, but the moment was shattered when his head snapped toward the commotion. Cyrus had struck Alvaerelle, a small wound marring her arm. The sight sent adrenaline coursing through Elariel's veins, and he clenched his fists as Alvaerelle quickly retaliated, matching the injury on Cyrus’s arm. Gasps erupted from the onlookers, a collective tension filling the air as anger surged through him. Elariel felt the heat of rage bloom beneath his skin, threatening to boil over. He glanced back at his mate, his voice strained yet steady, “I think it’s time you return home; it’s getting late. It seems our Clanmates do not know how to play nice any longer.” He fought to keep his tone even, even as fury roiled inside him. “I will see you soon, mate.” With a quick peck on her cheek, Elariel was already on the prowl.

As he moved through the crowd, he spotted the newly appointed Shaman approaching Cyrus, catching the end of their heated exchange. “Shaman Ravae, congratulations,” Elariel spoke softly, as he dipped his head to her, forcing a smile onto his face despite the man in front of them. “May the Gods bless your path,” he added, though his gaze quickly shifted to Cyrus, who was pressing a cloth to his wound, hatred etched across his features. The shift in energy around him felt palpable as he squared off with Cyrus, both men almost equal in height and mass, their postures tense and charged. He refused to let Cyrus take his anger out on Ravae, she didn’t deserve his wrath.

“Cyrus,” Elariel's voice turned icy, “Ravae did not choose to be Shaman. It was a shock to her just as it was to all of us.” His words were measured, cold steel wrapped in restraint, but his eyes blazed with an intensity that betrayed his fury. The heat of the moment crackled between them, a silent battle of wills as Elariel sought to remind Cyrus of the weight of responsibility that had been thrust upon Ravae. She was young, and the shock was evident in her wide eyes; there was no way she had seen this coming.

He took a step closer, lowering his voice as he tried to convey the gravity of the situation. “It has long been time to fill this position, and Ravae has been chosen. We can't ignore the needs of our people just because it feels unfair. You know that.” He paused, gauging the storm brewing in Cyrus's eyes, desperate to reach the core of his pain before it turned to something darker. “Be at peace, brother,” Elariel continued, his tone softening, though not with pity. “No one will replace your mate. This is not a betrayal; it’s an opportunity for our community to grow.”

Elariel breathed deeply, the weight of the moment settling in his chest. “You must know,” he said, glancing apologetically at Ravae for his next words, “We all thought—if anyone was to be named—it would have been Althaea.” His voice faltered slightly as he recalled the confusion and disappointment that had rippled through the crowd. “You must have seen the shock on Ravae’s face, along with everyone’s. Only the Elders knew of this,” he paused, his heart heavy with unspoken regret. “If I or Althaea had known, we would have warned you.” Elariel moved closer to the broken man and gripped his shoulder firmly, his eyes never leaving Cyrus’s. Anger no longer radiated from Elariel, only heartache for the pain his brother felt.

Sarolta Cimmerian

Apprentice | Mentions: Akith’ki

Indirectly: Esen, Syl, Other Apprentices

Sarolta’s lips curled into a sly smile as she listened, her gaze flicking toward Akith'ki. She leaned back, laughing softly. "Careful? Of course, Akith. I’m not reckless, no matter how it may seem. Especially since the Elders hold all the cards, and as long as they control the narrative, we’ll always be pawns. I refuse to be careless enough to let them steer us off a cliff.” She teased, reaching out to playfully flick his ear lightly.

But her expression shifted, growing serious again, though not as fervent as before. Her eyes scanned the clearing, briefly landing on her two cousins, Esen and Syllivanna, making their way toward a group of apprentices, Aelion among them. Esen waved in her direction, and Sarolta returned the gesture with a warm smile before turning her attention back to Akith’ki.

"As for the Gods choosing Ivan and Ravae—" she paused, letting the words hang for a beat, her brow furrowing in contemplation. She sighed lightly, giving a small shrug. “It’s true—we have no way of verifying anything the Elders say. We’re forced to take their word as law, and that’s a dangerous position for us to be in.”

Sarolta’s eyes lingered on Akith’ki for a moment, her sly demeanor softening as a flicker of genuine curiosity crept in. “Do you feel ready? For the trials, I mean.” She cupped her mug, staring down into the dark liquid. Sarolta couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in her chest. The way the Elders had announced the prophecy, whether true or not, left her on edge. The words echoed in her mind, sending a chill through her each time she repeated the words to herself.

Her gaze remained fixed on the drink, her voice dropping to a near whisper again that she wasn’t even sure if he would hear. “I need to know that we’re in this together. I can’t go through this without knowing you’ll stay by my side. Promise me, Akith’ki. Promise me you’ll be there—through everything. Because if we’re going to get out of this alive, we need to stick together.”

Whether this plea was born out of fear or a calculated manipulation, even Sarolta herself wasn’t entirely sure. Perhaps it was both. But, she knew she didn’t want to be alone through this, especially if Aelion wasn’t going to be by her side. She needed at least one person she could fully trust. Drumming her fingers against her cup, Saro felt a wave of unease wash over her. The vulnerability gnawed at her, making her feel exposed. It made her feel unsafe.