Strictly Business ((Tagged))
Apr 22, 2017 21:15:27 GMT -5
Post by Fierfly on Apr 22, 2017 21:15:27 GMT -5
((For those of you following this story, Epsilon is being trained to help lead the pack and his latest OOC assigned mission was to evaluate and promote a pack-member: hence this thread...@shiver ))
Epsilon:
What...In the name of Reason...was he doing here? Great glory...what had gotten him into this position? He didn't even know! The giant silver male was starting to lose track of the misadventures and crazy turns of events that had brought him to his current situation as the consequences of one choice began to catch up to him. After a life-time of wandering largely on his own, he had been inspired by some profound power to join a pack. What was he doing?!? Joining a pack? And this one decision had led him to the current dilemma. Long story short: he'd done something right, Alphess Blaise had promoted him to train under her guidance to learn to watch over and lead the pack, then he'd screwed up, he'd taken in Zamir without letting the Alphess know, there had been some drama about that, she'd stopped trusting him (actually, aside from his promotion he had the distinct feeling that the Alphess had never really trusted him very much at all), he'd had to redeem himself and...apparently he had? Now he was supposed to evaluate a member of the pack, assess their strengths and officially promote them. Did he ask Alphess Blaise first? For her permission, for her input or approval? No, this was a test, to see his judge of character: that way if they didn't function then she knew who to blame. He firmed up and pushed his large, muscular shoulders to stride more purposefully and authoritatively. He would pass this test, he didn't want to disappoint her again, he needed her trust, he needed to know that he was doing something right.
The actual decision of who to promote and to what station was not a difficult one: he was going to promote Amora. Granted his decision may have been a bit biased (she was practically the only wolf he actually knew in this pack, not counting his foster-son and the wolves he'd hunted with over the course of his residence in the Grove), but it made perfect sense. Amora was intelligent, blunt and to-the-point, strategic, disciplined, and the Alphess needed a Beta, especially if she was having trust issues with her student (he could not shake the uneasiness in those dark eyes whenever they interacted). Amora had implied that the mother and daughter had had their own disagreements over the years and had clashed more than once (with Amora's fierce independence he was not terribly surprised), but looking at their personalities, strengths and weaknesses, he thought they'd work well together. Amora could either decline or bite his head off at the very idea of having to work with her mother again, but he didn't think they were enemies, and maybe Amora's forwardness and certainty and her mother's degree of hesitancy and stratagem would balance each other out. It was worth a shot, hopefully he could keep his head.
Now he hesitated. Was the Clearing too formal? It was usually reserved for pack meetings...no. He was promoting a member of the pack, the location was appropriate. Did he just howl for her? That seemed condescending somehow, he really wasn't in an actual position over anyone and he still considered himself an omega: his trainer could easily deem him as unqualified and he wouldn't be promoted, but wasn't she testing his leadership abilities now? Oh Sheba save him from his misery. He looked skyward, sighed in frustration at his own uncertainty and hesitancy and in frustration at Alphess Blaise whose reasoning and train of thought he could not understand to save his life and which he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to understand. Females in general were a real puzzle to figure out and he would likely live longer if he let the puzzle alone and promptly decided not to waste his energy. This meeting was going to be strictly business, Amora would take it as she would, interpret it as she would, and he could walk away from it hopefully with his head still connected to his body. Still he didn't howl. It was business, but they were friends, it seemed wrong to suddenly be ordering her about. He looked down at his paws, sighed again and raised his right, fore-paw: he couldn't handle the stress at that very moment, he needed to loosen up a little first. The tension in his posture melting he extended one claw down to the earth and a soft carpet of frost appeared on the bright spring grass below his paw. His features softening and the powermark between his shoulders glowing dimly he swirled his paw around and a crystalline pattern resembling an enlarged snowflake formed on the ground. He closed his eyes and his breathing grew more relaxed: from the center of the crystaline flake spurted a spray of actual ice-flakes into the sky, like water from a geyser. The pattern on the ground grew larger and from the fractals grew smaller replicas of the original pattern, and so on and so on until they were no larger than a huckleberry. More spurts of snow shot into the sky and then slowly drifted down and around him. Something about it all soothed him: he couldn't put his claw on it, but the anxiety left him as he concentrated on the mystical picture he was creating. Sleeves of fine white grew over his forelegs and he raised his head to call for his friend, the howl was low and humble and patient, not loud, not too bold, just a simple request, take your time, but please come. Feeling the stress want to rise again his rear paws were similarly coated and he added to the pattern under his paws, white, crystalline, peaceful, beautiful...roses, ivy and other intricate shapes and patterns found their way into the fractals of the original image and spread under his claws and more light, soft flakes fluttered down around him. Now he would wait.
Epsilon:
What...In the name of Reason...was he doing here? Great glory...what had gotten him into this position? He didn't even know! The giant silver male was starting to lose track of the misadventures and crazy turns of events that had brought him to his current situation as the consequences of one choice began to catch up to him. After a life-time of wandering largely on his own, he had been inspired by some profound power to join a pack. What was he doing?!? Joining a pack? And this one decision had led him to the current dilemma. Long story short: he'd done something right, Alphess Blaise had promoted him to train under her guidance to learn to watch over and lead the pack, then he'd screwed up, he'd taken in Zamir without letting the Alphess know, there had been some drama about that, she'd stopped trusting him (actually, aside from his promotion he had the distinct feeling that the Alphess had never really trusted him very much at all), he'd had to redeem himself and...apparently he had? Now he was supposed to evaluate a member of the pack, assess their strengths and officially promote them. Did he ask Alphess Blaise first? For her permission, for her input or approval? No, this was a test, to see his judge of character: that way if they didn't function then she knew who to blame. He firmed up and pushed his large, muscular shoulders to stride more purposefully and authoritatively. He would pass this test, he didn't want to disappoint her again, he needed her trust, he needed to know that he was doing something right.
The actual decision of who to promote and to what station was not a difficult one: he was going to promote Amora. Granted his decision may have been a bit biased (she was practically the only wolf he actually knew in this pack, not counting his foster-son and the wolves he'd hunted with over the course of his residence in the Grove), but it made perfect sense. Amora was intelligent, blunt and to-the-point, strategic, disciplined, and the Alphess needed a Beta, especially if she was having trust issues with her student (he could not shake the uneasiness in those dark eyes whenever they interacted). Amora had implied that the mother and daughter had had their own disagreements over the years and had clashed more than once (with Amora's fierce independence he was not terribly surprised), but looking at their personalities, strengths and weaknesses, he thought they'd work well together. Amora could either decline or bite his head off at the very idea of having to work with her mother again, but he didn't think they were enemies, and maybe Amora's forwardness and certainty and her mother's degree of hesitancy and stratagem would balance each other out. It was worth a shot, hopefully he could keep his head.
Now he hesitated. Was the Clearing too formal? It was usually reserved for pack meetings...no. He was promoting a member of the pack, the location was appropriate. Did he just howl for her? That seemed condescending somehow, he really wasn't in an actual position over anyone and he still considered himself an omega: his trainer could easily deem him as unqualified and he wouldn't be promoted, but wasn't she testing his leadership abilities now? Oh Sheba save him from his misery. He looked skyward, sighed in frustration at his own uncertainty and hesitancy and in frustration at Alphess Blaise whose reasoning and train of thought he could not understand to save his life and which he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to understand. Females in general were a real puzzle to figure out and he would likely live longer if he let the puzzle alone and promptly decided not to waste his energy. This meeting was going to be strictly business, Amora would take it as she would, interpret it as she would, and he could walk away from it hopefully with his head still connected to his body. Still he didn't howl. It was business, but they were friends, it seemed wrong to suddenly be ordering her about. He looked down at his paws, sighed again and raised his right, fore-paw: he couldn't handle the stress at that very moment, he needed to loosen up a little first. The tension in his posture melting he extended one claw down to the earth and a soft carpet of frost appeared on the bright spring grass below his paw. His features softening and the powermark between his shoulders glowing dimly he swirled his paw around and a crystalline pattern resembling an enlarged snowflake formed on the ground. He closed his eyes and his breathing grew more relaxed: from the center of the crystaline flake spurted a spray of actual ice-flakes into the sky, like water from a geyser. The pattern on the ground grew larger and from the fractals grew smaller replicas of the original pattern, and so on and so on until they were no larger than a huckleberry. More spurts of snow shot into the sky and then slowly drifted down and around him. Something about it all soothed him: he couldn't put his claw on it, but the anxiety left him as he concentrated on the mystical picture he was creating. Sleeves of fine white grew over his forelegs and he raised his head to call for his friend, the howl was low and humble and patient, not loud, not too bold, just a simple request, take your time, but please come. Feeling the stress want to rise again his rear paws were similarly coated and he added to the pattern under his paws, white, crystalline, peaceful, beautiful...roses, ivy and other intricate shapes and patterns found their way into the fractals of the original image and spread under his claws and more light, soft flakes fluttered down around him. Now he would wait.
