“Zen, wake up, I sense festivities and I sense a lack of myself at them.”

I suppose it was not exactly a traditional wake-up call and yet really, I never was all that traditional. I had been pleased to hear of my daughters victory- although truly I had not been so entirely surprised, after all, while she may not have had the training of some of her siblings I had assured she had been skilled enough to hold onto the crown I had passed to her, that should the day come in which another sought to remove it from her that she knew indeed how to defend herself against them. Maybe I am a little egotistical to have been assured of her victory and yet really, I never saw defeat- so why should she? Besides, I am mildly pleased to see her fight beside her mate, that she too may stand with pride in her own battles though I know well she is sure only to worry about having broken a flower or accidently made Scourge or Pudge or Purge or whatever her name is bleed. I hold nothing but pride for my daughter and yet truly I believe she is given to hold much of her mother on occasions. Zeviah had been as she- the calm to my storm perhaps, just as my Zen is now. I moved to push such thoughts from my mind in this moment, waiting until my Zen had come to my side, pressing the white of my pelt into the dark of her own before it was I moved to break into a lope, heading towards the sound of Isola’s cry. Truthfully I had little desire to celebrate Diveen, honestly why we need an annual Diveen Day I hardly know. In fact, until some serious landscaping has been done I am not entirely sure why we seem to be so excited about overgrown fields and tress that obscure my fully ability to bask in the sun.

Perhaps if Stella and Chance and Kane all jump at once we may be able to use their over-sized form’s to create an earthquake large enough to knock down some of these sinfully…leafy trees. I scowled slightly as I moved, violet gaze held against the trees as I passed them, white form aglow within the sun as I assured my Zen still followed, tail flicking lightly in contemplation. At least one of these trees is entirely the wrong shape, were I still in command I would have removed them entirely. I huff of sorts was released from my lips as the sight of my daughter came at last into view, violet eyes rested against her own as I allowed a smile of sorts to trace my lips. I do not have words, not truly, for the pride in which I feel with her. Perhaps I tease often of her choice in mate and of the dark pelts of some of her children and yet it was she I chose of all my children to take my crown. I love each and every one of those whom I have fathered and yet I had chosen Isola for…who she is, had understood perhaps what others did not see, believed her to be perhaps the best parts of myself and my Zeivah and as such it was she alone to whom I had handed the crown. I have known…always, that she is more then she believes, that when others look upon her they do not see merely a trinket to awe over. She is beautiful of course, after all, I am ridiculously handsome even despite my old age. Yet ever since she was small she had been…different…assured in herself and perhaps I had grown closer to her in these years, come to see so much within her though never have I told her as such. It is simply not my way, it never will be. She knows, just as all my children know, I am sure, that were the world to end in flames it is for them and my Zen alone I would die. Children make fools of us all, no matter how old they grow, within my mind I remember still a girl pup with paws to big whom sat upon my lap and looked upon the sky with wonder. Perhaps it was for that wonder I had chosen her, that she saw so very much in so very little.

The smile upon my lips was a thing most fleeting, the barest hint of some sort of appreciation for this moment as it was I moved to reach for her, to embrace her now, words spoke softly to her ears alone.

“We are proud of you.”

It was all the praise I was willing to offer in this moment as the violet of my gaze turned briefly towards Kane, one eye lifting slightly as my gaze was given to flicker from Isola’s…….classically….styled hair and back to himself. The day he had asked for my blessing to take her for his mate I am rather assured he swore a promise to me to never allow her to suffer damage such ad this and while indeed I take a certain pride in her victories I am less proud of having a child with anything less then perfect by way of hair.

“We will talk about this later, Kane.”

He knew, I am sure, entirely what I meant as I moved to turn away from the both, to take my seat atop a rather pleasant looking sunny boulder, leaving space for my Zen beside me so that she too may seat herself upon this little throne I had taken up. Maybe it was petty, but I always have liked sitting above others and really, who else has done the things I have? Maybe Isola is Queen, yet I made her and I am entirely sure that earns me the right to sit above her- if only slightly. I smiled softly in that moment, pressing my form against Zen’s own as my voice lowered softly, speaking to the ears of my mate alone.

“Darling, I’ll bet you dinner for a week that the next wolf to arrive is somehow related to me. If they are, you have to hunt dinner for a week, if they aren’t I’ll do it, deal?”

Hedging my bets? Never. Then again, I never was a very fair player, the chance of the next wolf being somehow related to me rather good. Honestly- I would be entirely displeased if they weren’t.

h e y e l
The Original Angel