<font color=544642>"We're the Perfect Two"</font> <i>Zildjian</i>

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**Any position may be challenged for at any time. Please privately contact Nymeria and she will decide the type and style of challenge appropriate to the rank.

Abhorsen - The Wielder: Alpha female and Queen of Spirane. Her word is final in all matters. Vows to protect and lead those who call the mountain home.

Her Council
Belgaer - The Thinker: Second in Command, this wolf is the Abhorsen's most trusted compatriot and confidant. In the Abhorsen's absence, they are able to speak with her authority.
Saraneth - The Binder: Chosen mate of the Abhorsen. They can settle pack disputes, accept members, assign tasks, and leads the pack during hunts, in times of war, or in cases where the Abhorsen is not present.
Scion - The Successor: The Abhorsen's heir, training to one day fill her paw prints. This wolf must become adept in multiple trades. This wolf is expected to become proficient in healing, fighting, hunting, diplomacy, and thievery. They are expected to lend assistance to any of the other ranks if ever needed.

The Bells
Dyrim - The Speaker: Lead diplomat and is often times sent out to maintain good relations with allied packs. Charged with educating the Ambassadors in diplomatic ways.
Astarael - The Weeper: The commander and lead warrior of the pack. Charged with teaching the Berserkers the art of battle.
Clayr - The Seer: Charged with the pack's health, and in teaching the Shiners and those who wish to pursue the art of healing.
Kibeth - The Walker: The leader of the Guard. They are the foremost line of defense, charged with securing the borders and bringing pertinent information from within and without the pack to the appropriate wolf. They also lead the Outriders.
Ranna - The Sleeper: Assists the queen in guarding from theft as well as advising her of news and gossip from the whole of Moladion. Charged with teaching the Mages about theft, secret keeping, and overall sneakiness. Allowed to make and block steals.
Mosrael - The Waker: Caretaker and storyteller of the pack, also the head pupsitter. Often times this wolf will look after the pack's youth and educate them of Spirane and Moladion's history. Leads the Remembrancers in pup watching.
Charter - The Power: The master hunter of the pack. Leads and organizes all hunts and teaches the Falconers the art of the hunt.

The Classes
Berserkers: Warriors and hunters of the pack.
Falconers: The pack hunters
Mages: Thieves and secret keepers of the pack. Allowed to make and block steals.
Ambassadors: Diplomats of the pack.
Shiners: Healers of the pack.
Outriders: The pack scouts who bring all news of happenings across Moladion back.
Remembrancers: Wolves of a kind nature who look after the younger wolves of the pack. These wolves may wish to learn more about healing, but this is not a requirement.
Bairns: The young pups of the pack
Amateurs: Youth of the pack still finding their place

Kinfolk: The general populance of the pack
Elders: Respected retirees who still offer wisdom and insight

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Amaterasu "We're the perfect two"
Bliss barely delves into the deep emotions I have felt over the course of a few months. Happiness only graces the surface of such an elated feeling as I watched my sides expand with the lives Zildjian and I have created. I never imagined that I would actually be staring out at the mountainside views and envision my pups playing in the grassy fields of the dips and rocky faces of the rising behemoths. I am so overjoyed, but as I sit and reflect on my days as a mother, and I imagine them playing and laughing and growing, I feel something quicken in my abdomen. It hurts, a nearly crippling pain and my mind is flooded with the dark tendrils of fear. My ears lay back and I let loose a distressed call for my mate, my imprint, my rock. I move, and more of this foreign pain lances through my body. I halt my steps, breathing slowly, panic openly running through my mind as I try and think of what I did wrong to cause such an awful feeling in my gut. I whimper, hoping nothing is wrong as I move once more, the pain having released its hold, leaving behind a dull ache and a worried mother. The pups move, shifting in their safe haven. I breathe more readily now, moving quickly to hide in my den. I know Zildjian will find me, he always does, I smile, comforted by the simple thought of my love, and the little lives we are going to be welcoming soon. What was this new sensation? I lay on my side and try not to think of it, try not to let it get me worried, but even as I relax, I feel my body tighten. The pressure from such a thing is unbelievable, and excruciating, I hold my breath, not knowing what to do. I panic, and in my panic I call upon my Jian, I call out for my mother and I begin to cry. Instinct battles with logic, and I release my hold on my mind. Fine, let nature have her way, let her take this pain away, I do not wish to think anymore. Minutes tick by, turning into hours as I watch the sun cast its pink and gold light across the spring time mountains of my home. Panting and waiting, pain then none, the pups do not move during this time, and I am afraid again. I feel them shifting, like small muscle twitches inside my body and I find comfort in them. Another wave of pain is brought to be, and I growl, frustrated, but something tells me I should fight this pain back. I hold my breath, tilting my head toward my chest as I tense my abdominal muscles, pushing against this tightness in my belly. Something warm floods my den behind me, and the pain is gone for the moment. I relax, panting harder as my den grows warmer with the heat from my body and the waning spring time day. More of this awful pain and I repeat my fighting motions, pushing through it as I feel a new pain begin in my tail end. I press my paws against the sides of my den, pushing my back to the wall behind me. When the pain ebbs, I relax, keeping my hind legs slightly parted thanks to the pressure building there. The pains are coming more and more quick, and I find myself pushing and shifting my position more often. I cannot get comfortable, and finally, when I find a good position, I am thrust into pain. I growl, quickly becoming frustrated and tired and pained. With one pain, I push as hard as I can, and I smile, all pressure relieved. I relax fully for a moment before the scent of blood engulfs my den. Ears lacing back I rise on my front half, looking down between my hind legs. My white and blood marred tail waves and I let loose a happy yip as I turn to clean off my first child. Panting I lick her clean as instinct demands, I clip the tie between her and myself and I shift carefully over her small and precious body. She moves about unsteadily on her small limbs, moving closer and all but disappearing in my white pelt. I study her, relaxing for a few moments, and finally understanding what all the hard work had been about. She is perfection, her little crooked mask standing out against her pelt of flawless white. The cinnamon portion of her mask covers the left side of her face, and fades into silver on the right, where it arches up toward her ear. A perfect mingling of silver and russet in a faded pattern traces a stripe down her back, and there is a little scarlet tip on her tail. I smile and wonder what color her eyes will be when they have opened. I coo over her, and relax with her, wondering how many more I have in there. My question would be answered sooner than I thought, and I feel that now recognizable pressure building in my womb. I breathe through it, letting instinct once more have its hold as I panted. I am tired, the birth of my first pup having taken several hours, and she was rather large for me. I wait, going through the motions of whelping once more, realizing that I needed to let nature take its course. I wait, anticipation building as the pushing gets harder, the pains coming faster as they had with the child at my stomach. I grit my teeth against the pain, eyes tightly shut as I growl, pushing once more. I relax, again the pressure has relieved and I have one more tiny bundle of life to add brightness to Zigzagel's days. I move, licking my second-born clean. Like myself and her sister, this little girl has a pelt of white. Her tiny toes are dipped in Angel red, and her back is littered with silvery stripes like her father, each hair tipped in the scarlet of my mother. Her ruff is spattered with silver, some areas darker than others, which fades out around her face and at the base of her neck. Her eyes and ears are trimmed with the black of Zildjian's mask. She too is perfect, just as her sister is perfect. My little Angels. My little loves, and I could not have asked for more perfect little pups. I smile, singing softly to them as we three relaxed in our heated den. I am panting as they nurse, finding myself very tired after this ordeal. But the pups, they do not have names. I worry over this as I drift to sleep, lulled by an invincible force to go into the dreaming realms. As I sleep, I dream. Sinners, like those my father speaks of, the Demons of this world inhabit my dreams. But, off in the distance there is one watching the Sinner's children, her fur blindingly white and her toes Marked in the blood of the Fallen as my little girl's were. This unknown Angel, this shepherd of the children born to Sinners spots me, and motions me to come closer. Nothing marrs her coat, all white is she, save for her toes. I look up into her violet and shockingly green eyes. The right a deep and dark violet, the left the brilliant green. She speaks in whispers, her voice like the wind, her eyes burning deep into mine as she speaks a language far beyond my understanding. It seems so much older than the Latin my family speaks. I listen, nodding as if I understand, and move away as she motions me to go. Before I turn to leave, another wolf, a male, with the left side of his face Marked in Angel red. The entire side of his face is covered in this red of my family, and I smile, dipping my head respectfully. He looks far wiser than the other wolfess, and I watch as he too opens his mouth and speaks these old words I do not understand. His eyes are the same deep blue that I can see in my mother, that opal cast to them giving them an odd light. I look for mom, wishing to see her face. If this is a dream of my ancestors, then perhaps she will be there too! The male Angel shakes his head, laughing at me as if he could hear my thoughts. I gaze at him, and wisdom sinks into me, the dream fading away as I watch the world around my subconscious turning to black. I snap into awareness, the dark night time sounds of late night outside the entrance to my den. I blink, the dream wolf sticking in my mind as her words crash into my subconsciousness. �Saraqael.� I speak softly, licking my second daughter, grinning at her toes twitching as she sleeps at my stomach. �Zigzagel.� I say, my smile growing as I stroke my tongue over her little face. I yawn, gazing out at the entrance of my den, body weak and muscles feeling like water. �Zildjian? Your daughters are here.� I was ready for him to come in now, to see them, to meet his gaze under the full glow of the moon. I needed the comfort of his touch, the emotion in his face, and just the simple joy of having him close to me. Completed, I felt more whole with him here, and now our daughters. A new family rises from the ashes of burned bridges.
female;; 5 years;; exalted by Zildjian;; worshiped by Zildjian;; bearer of Zigzagel & Saraqael;; canis minor of Spirane