The Art of Warren

•Thirty Seven•

Arana paused her words, taking a deep breath. She was not having a good day. Not at all. She turned her head slightly, her wolf not appreciating yet another interruption. "I need you to try that again, novice. Walk back into this room and try that again."

She heard a soft series of apologies from the same
novice before she heard soft knocking. "I apologize, Pomelia give me a moment."

Arana turned her head again, to see the novice. She was a chatty one who became flustered easily. "How can I help you?"

"Apologies priestess. You are being requested for counsel."

Ofcourse she was. She wore so many hats here she was so tired. She just wished to rest for one day but that wasn't possible. "Pomelia-"

"-He's back. I will call when he leaves again. Thank you priestess!" The line went dead. She sighed. Loudly. She felt like throwing the phone. She sounded scared. Was she scared of the male hurting her or was she just scared about...her situation? She would kill him if he so much as laid a hand on Pomelia's sweet self.

Placing the phone down, she sighed loudly, and sent a small prayer up to the goddess. She prayed for peace and understanding between the couple and change. She hoped that some drastic changing went on with that entire pack, or else Pomelia would be swallowed up by the darkness there.

Following the novice to the temple, she slipped on her mask of perfection. A neutral, kind, relaxed position. She had to be approachable and opening. She couldn't do that with rigid shoulders and a tired face.

Incense filled her nostrils, strong ones. They were purifying candles, holy candles. It masked the stench of the wolves who came to them with problems that smelt foul. She was thankful for those candles.

"Right here, priestess." The novice paused, and bowed slightly.

Taking a deep breath, she held the golden door knob in her hand. It was time to nurse one of the  Lycan population into a conscious, good mood again.

Upon entering, she saw a shaved head and white robes. Why was a priest sitting in a room meant for counsel and confession?

"Oh...forgive me, brother. I must have been brought to the wrong-"

"-You don't recognize the stray that keeps coming back to you, Arana."

Her entire body froze. She knew that voice unfortunately. It was the bane pack wolf.

He was a commoner. He did not have the authority to call her by her first name. She told him that before, four times. Four times! She pressed her lips firmly together and closed the door quietly.

She began to hum a tune as she made her way to her seat, she did not like to have silence when he was alone with her. Thoughts...terrible thoughts marred her thinking.

Once she sat down, she stared at him. He had cut off all of his dark hair. All of it. Her eyes widened as she noticed that he had...a tattoo on his head. What did it say? She didn't need to know. It was in a different language...

"How can I help you."

Trent snorted, his legs were spread and his hands clasped together, his elbows resting on his thighs. He seemed tired. "Do you wish not to talk?" He said nothing. "I'll grab my violin. You can meditate on your thoughts while I play."