THE COLORS DISAPPEAR | JOINING

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    It had been a long time since she'd taken up residence in a clan. BloodClan felt like a thing of the past; it had changed so much since her time there... perhaps for the worse. They'd softened, as had many of the groups she'd come across during her travels. But even if her place of birth had remained steadfast throughout the years, Ellaria wasn't sure if she'd even be able to return. The memories she had of her youth, while sweet, had eventually come to lose their rosy tint. Often times she looked back on her childhood with a feeling of burning resentment, only further fueling her resolve to do something worthwhile with the life she'd been given. She'd been played a rather lacking hand, but the woman sought to change that long ago.


    For a good while she'd spent her time here and there, drifting about and learning all of the secrets that Agrelos had to offer. She'd devoted much of her time to the gods as well — praying, reflecting, changing. Carefully constructing the woman she was sure she'd always wanted to be. And only when she was satisfied with the figure she'd delicately carved, molded from heartache and solitude, did Ellaria feel ready to truly return to civilization. She'd met with people here and there in the recent past; merchants, informants, acquaintances, and even a few lovers, but none of it had ever felt... very real. She wasn't certain if joining a group again would change that, but surprisingly, the cynical woman was hopeful. Though she'd long since abandoned her homeland and made a calculated effort to avoid others of its kind, Ellaria would be lying if she claimed not to miss the hustle and bustle of a clan every now and again. At long last, she would be able to return to that comforting familiarity, albeit with a new, jaded sense of skepticism. Some might pity her for all she'd been through, but Ellaria felt that she was much better equipped to deal with the drama and politics of the lifestyle she was returning to. If nothing else, she was very curious to see where this new chapter of her life would take her.


    And so she waited with her head held high on the outskirts of the canyon, piercing yellow gaze sweeping across the landscape before her with guarded interest.


    Breakdance, given the fact that there was very little to do during the day, would often ponder about why people were drawn to the Exiles as she basked in the warmth of the sunlight, hoping the rays would lighten her tawny pelt and conceal the flecks of grey that were becoming increasingly noticeable. She had her own reasons for joining a clan that, during her years of leadership, she declared wars on but was well aware that this was a different generation of Exilers and not the ones that she had considered utter imbecile vermin. Perhaps that was the reason why she could no longer find herself hating the Exiles. Barghest appeared to be a reasonable leader with his head on straight, a stark contrast to the Exiles leaders she once knew, save for her own son. The Exiles were the only group who shared the same values as her, not all values, but some, especially those she considered important. Anti-clans were no longer in existence, and those that did claim to be an anti-clan were either imposters or failing to do their duty. What she once knew as fearsome anti-clans were know groups of struggling fighters with ridiculous names and leaders who thought that holding hands with everyone would get them somewhere in the world. Upon arriving back to the world she was born in, suddenly the entire population apart from the very group she was now living with had turned their backs to raids and what was supposed to be a pro versus anti way of life. It was a societal system that had worked so beautifully, but was abandoned by dim-witted pacifists.


    The very thought infuriated Breakdance. How had the world gone to such shit? Who made everyone weak and impotent? But alas she could not give a damn anymore. If other clans wanted to deteriorate then she would let them, for they were not her concern. At the end of the day, she was with the victors. The matriarch had caught scent of Ellaria during a lone patrol, and came to the conclusion that this was a joiner at their borders. Breakdance figured she would let her higher ups handle the joining process, but nevertheless she would be there to greet the serval and escort her back to camp where business could be conducted more efficiently. On heavy steps forth with curvilinear claws imprinting designs in the ground beneath the war-torn and aged frame of the lioness, volcanic visionaries studying the femme with both suspicion and interest, she parted powerful jaws to speak. "Do correct me if I'm wrong, but you're here to join us aren't you?"


    "Im a bastard child"

    "No one will truly notice if Im gone" — Nyria


    Nyria slipped next to Breakdance a calm look appearing into her gaze as she examined the newcomer quietly before sitting down and rolling her shoulders a bit. Breakdance had already greeted them but she smiled a slight bit at them "If thats the case welcome to Exiles, may I get your name?" she asked them with a calm greeting. The direwolf's gaze examining them with a calm look and a smile playing on her normally stone cold maw, but now she had to act nice and be warm and kind to them so they felt more welcoming her into Exiles. The young commander ears were perked as she awaited to hear their name


    "Please let me die"

    "Speak" "Thoughts"

    It wasn't long before she was approached by two women: a weathered lioness and a youthful she-wolf. The former seemed guarded, the latter more open. Ellaria regarded the pair with pricked ears as she was addressed, recalling the way outsiders had been treated by BloodClan in her youth; anyone looking to join had to fight their way into the clan. Personally, she still liked the idea proving your worth and earning your place within a group, but the custom had long since become obsolete. Given the nature of the Exiles, she was a tad surprised that even they wouldn't adopt such a tradition. Times had certainly changed. At least she wouldn't have to get her paws dirty.


    Ellaria nodded. "Mm, I'd like to, if you'll have me," she confirmed with a dip of her head. Nyria's greeting was confirmation enough, however, and she raised her head to meet her eyes with a faint smile playing on her lips. "Ellaria Harbringer, pleasure to meet you. And what are your names?"


    It was Shocktherapy to approach next, playfilly shouldering his way between the two females, winking slyly at Nyria before turning his attention to Ellaria. It was a pretty name, that's for sure, and a Harbringer too? A wide statement, he'd heard the surname many times in his three yeara of life, a name that had apparently left a lasting impression. His butterscotch gaze traced the woman with genuine curiosity before he dipped his head to the young lady, offering a semi-welcoming, semi-unnerving smile. "We certainly have the space to accomodate you." He chuffed, swallowing harshly. "Shocktherapy Bandauher. I hope you enjoy your stay."


    SO YOU THINK YOU CAN STONE ME AND SPIT IN MY EYE —

    "Im a bastard child"

    "No one will truly notice if Im gone" — Nyria


    Her name was quite interesting but Nyria liked it and she smiled at her. Then Shock came and he slyly winked at the commander making her raise a fictive eyebrow before snapping her head over towards the newcomer "I'm Nyria Stark, and its nice to meet you. I hope you find your stay here welcoming" 


    "Please let me die"

    "Speak" "Thoughts"

    A Harbringer. A relative. From which side, from which descendent, Breakdance could not tell. There were so many of them, there were so many members in every family, that it was hard to trace what relation everyone had to each other other than concluding the fact that they did share blood.


    She had guessed correctly. Breakdance couldn't detect a clan scent from the femme, so she wasn't here to deliver a message nor for any other political reasons. If she were an enemy, she wouldn't have waited at their borders. Which only left one option; she was here to stay. And so be it. "Breakdance," the tawny lioness would reply in her hoarse tone, battle-scarred vocal chords quivering as she did so before continuing to say, "but do feel free to call me Break for short"


    you're fairly certain you're related to this newcomer somehow if they're a harbringer - though certainly by many, many degrees of separation. still, your family is one of the larger ones you know, and it's probably not far off to say you're related to just about anyone who's family spans more than a generation or two. you try not to think about that in relation to what it means for your kids, and even you. how many generations would you have to go up before you found a link that shouldn't be there? probably not many.


    "cyrus cipher," you introduce, padding closer to the gathering of bodies. "welcome to the exiles, ellaria," you say, dipping your head in more formal greeting.

    SPEECH ☼ TAGS ☼ EXILES