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ooc;; for robin

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                <br><font style=" font-family: georgia; font-size: 7px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #ffffff; text-shadow: 0px 0px 20px #ffffff; letter-spacing: 7px; line-height: 8px;">Keep the streets empty for me</font>         </center> <div style="height: 450px; overflow: auto; "> <font style="text-align: center;  font-family: georgia; font-size: 10px; color: #a1c3c2; text-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #000000;  line-height:11px; word-spacing:3px; letter-spacing:2px;">                                          
                    <p>He was curious, he didn't know who all had come from the pack meeting to the mountain. He didn't know who all his sister had scared off with her little show of force. With the new members being of such timid nature he knew that there were a great many reasons for them to want to wander off and decide not to follow him up to the mountain but still. After he got up past the foothills he would stop walking and slowly turn around. Haunches would coil slowly as he lowered himself into a seated position on a flat outcropping. It would take some time for them to find a sure fire path up and down this mountain and where meeting places would be. But for now he wanted to see who all came. Eerie yellow gaze would study the meadow below where he had left the gathered. They had dispersed but it would be interesting to see who came up the mountain. The three who had come to the pack meeting who were not automatically guaranteed rank were of the timid sort, Citlali he had least had a pre standing relationship with but he barely knew Arlo or Robin. Would they come? 

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                        <center> <font style=" color: #ffffff; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #ffffff; font-variant: small-caps;">"Speak"</font></font>
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<center>CODE BY CHIP & ART BY ARGENT</CENTER></center>
<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel+Decorative' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="background-image: url('http://i.imgur.com/3g0j8XL.jpg'); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: bottom center; width: 480px; height: 800px; background-color: #fd3752; border-radius: 0px 90px; border: 3px solid #330000;">

<div style="text-align: justify; color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 11px; font-family: Arial; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: 15px; padding: 30px;margin:20px;text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #1f1612;width:420;height:380px;overflow:auto;"><font style="font-family: Cinzel Decorative; color: #000000; text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #1f1612;font-size: 30px; border-bottom: 1px solid #120908;">Robin Willowreaver</font><br><br><br><br>

Well, the meeting had certainly been an interesting one. Robin sat and watched as the others began to disperse, most deciding to wander off and go about their business now that things were over. Even Cara and Andraste, the ladies who'd been having an uncomfortably-intense battle, seemed to call a temporary truce before parting ways. The young wolf felt certain that one of them would've gotten seriously hurt, if things had carried on for a bit longer, and inwardly thanked Indian for stepping in to end it all.

Letting out a sigh, Robin rose onto all fours and stared out at the seemingly never-ending fields. What should he do, now? Better yet, what was there to do? As always, he didn't have anything planned for the day...and he hadn't really been busy before Indian had summoned them for the meeting. He supposed that he could go off and do a bit of hunting, before his stomach decided to eat itself, but...for some reason he didn't feel like it. It'd been an eventful morning, and that fight was still floating around in his head, the frightening images of snapping jaws and throaty growls forever painted on his brain.

Maybe it'd be a good idea to go and talk to Indian, now that things had settled down. Robin hadn't gotten a chance to ask for the rank that he wanted, so now was as good of a time as any.

The young wolf turned around and headed toward the base of the nearest mountain, picking up on faint traces of the bird-like wolf's scent as he went, and within minutes he'd found him, alone and looking somewhat deep in thought. Hoping that he hadn't interupted anything, Robin slowed to a stop and hesitated before he brought himself to speak. <font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"Excuse m-me, Sir...?"</font> he began, trying hard to force nervous stutter out of his voice, but to no avail. <font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"I was w-w-wondering if I could...ask you about a rank? I mean, if y-you're not...busy, now, or b-b-bothered, I'd like it if I could b-be a w-warrior."</font>





<center><font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"Speaking"</font></center></div>
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Original Coding by Layla/fiftyblackroses</center>
Paw falls would draw him out of his thoughts and for a moment he would simply screw his eyes shut, hoping that it wasn't Andra or Widow or hell any of his siblings for that matter. His head was pounding and the last thing he said wanted was to get into an argument over that happened. He just... He wasn't even sure he was ready for leadership, his assention into power had been one of nessicaity not of greed or a thirst for power. It had been the only logical choice and so he had followed the logic as he always did... But beyond even that, before the need for a leader had arisen his sisters had pushed him to take a throne. And now Cara was bickering and squabbling over little details that needn't concern her. He was less then impressed with his sister and didn't want any of his siblings to come and try and 'talk some sense into him'. They had no sense...

The voice would be what drew him completely from his thoughts, making him open his eyes and turn his attention slowly towards the smaller male as he approached. Robin... At least that was the name that popped to mind. He would call out to Indian timidly, approaching with caution so Indian would give motion for Robin to join him on the outcropping. <b>"I am not one to turn down a request so you may be a Voin, a foot solider. We will be holding a sparring session soon to gauge the level of all our members. Have you fought before?"</b> He would ask, looking slowly towards Robin. From the males reaction to the fight Indian had pegged him as a healer... 
<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel+Decorative' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="background-image: url('http://i.imgur.com/3g0j8XL.jpg'); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: bottom center; width: 480px; height: 800px; background-color: #fd3752; border-radius: 0px 90px; border: 3px solid #330000;">

<div style="text-align: justify; color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 11px; font-family: Arial; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: 15px; padding: 30px;margin:20px;text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #1f1612;width:420;height:380px;overflow:auto;"><font style="font-family: Cinzel Decorative; color: #000000; text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #1f1612;font-size: 30px; border-bottom: 1px solid #120908;">Robin Willowreaver</font><br><br><br><br>

Robin noted the slight skepticism that lingered in his leader's gaze and, unable to help himself, chuckled a little. It was an awkward sound, like the warbling of a young bird, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd ever had a reason to laugh. Up until now, the days had been pretty joyless; not to mention emotionally and mentally exhausting.

<font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"In my old p-pack, the children were always trained to b-be soldiers,"</font> the young wolf began, climbing up onto the outcropping and taking a seat a few feet away from Indian. <font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"We were put into g-groups when we were really little, and would stay with that group...forever, I guess. The wolves in them were supposed to b-become like a second family, so it was really important to t-train with them and spend as m-much time as possible together. I was...always with my brothers."</font>

Suddenly, Robin's voice grew quieter, and though he had been looking at the feathered wolf as he spoke, he turned away to stare out at the wide expanse of green and grey before them.

<font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"There were four of us. We were always a team, and our commanders would send us out on m-missions together; dangerous ones, most of the time. They were a lot stronger than I was...a lot braver, too...but I would always f-fight alongside them, and they usually l-left it up to me to think up s-s-strategies and such. I was good at that. I-I'm a good soldier, too. I'll p-p-prove it, if you need me to."</font>




<center><font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"Speaking"</font></center></div>
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Original Coding by Layla/fiftyblackroses</center>
Robin would begin his story as he climbed up into the outcropping Indian had chosen to seat himself on, speaking of his old pack and their ways. They groupings and the bond they shared. His brothers. It was something Indian could understand, his own father had instilled the same commorodery in all the lifters he had sired. A bond of brotherhood was strong, blood made it stronger in Indian's opinion but that didn't mean that what Robin had been apart of hadn't been any less meaningful. He would say he was the strategic one and Indian would nod along to show he was paying attention, though as Robin said he would prove himself Indian would look back to him and blink slowly. <b>"That's not nessicairy at this time, I trust in you. If you do well at the sparring event maybe you will have a seat as a commander, strategy wins battles and though I hope to never have them it is always good to be prepared..."</b> Indian would state slowly, growing slightly as he looked away again. <b>"What brought you here Robin... Where are your brothers now?"</b> Indian had a feeling he knew the answer but for some reason wanted to hear Robin say it.
<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel+Decorative' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="background-image: url('http://i.imgur.com/3g0j8XL.jpg'); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: bottom center; width: 480px; height: 800px; background-color: #fd3752; border-radius: 0px 90px; border: 3px solid #330000;">

<div style="text-align: justify; color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 11px; font-family: Arial; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: 15px; padding: 30px;margin:20px;text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #1f1612;width:420;height:380px;overflow:auto;"><font style="font-family: Cinzel Decorative; color: #000000; text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #1f1612;font-size: 30px; border-bottom: 1px solid #120908;">Robin Willowreaver</font><br><br><br><br>

Me? As a commander? Ha...that would be a sight, wouldn't it? Robin mused, the smallest of smiles creeping back onto his face. Being a soldier, a warrior, was a privilege in of itself, but to rise in the ranks and become a commander? Could he even handle such an important rank?

Did Indian truly believe that he could?

Tempted to ask him, outright, the young wolf turned a little and parted his lips to speak, but before he could the feathered wolf asked him a question, and the words were enough to send a chill throughout his body.

"Where are your brothers now?"

Robin let his gaze drop to the stony ground and kept it there, his eyes seeming to bore into the chiseled rock.

<font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"Gone,"</font> he said after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper. <font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"No...dead. They've been dead for months, now."</font>

And then he fell silent, looking for all the world as though he'd just spoken a language that he didn't realize he knew. The words that had left his mouth had been his, created by his own vocal chords and guided into the air by his tongue...and yet they'd felt so strange. Too strange.

It was then that Robin realized that this was the first time he was having this conversation. The people he'd met during his travels were few in number, but they'd been more or less enjoyable to talk to, and had helped to ease the ever-present ache of loneliness that had grown in his heart. Even so, it was rare that Robin ever talked about himself; he liked to hear about others' experiences and opinions as opposed to his own, and saw no reason to bring up things from his life unless he was asked.

And it'd been months. Three whole months since the night that had taken his last two brothers from him; three months and four days since Pan's sacrifice. Yet this was the first time that he was speaking of any of it, and the first time that he was admitting to himself what their fate had been.

<font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"A pack had moved into the forests that sat at the base of our mountain,"</font> the young wolf began, and for once it seemed as though he was suppressing his ever-present stutter, despite the tremor that still lingered in his voice. <font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"We'd never had neighbors, before, so my brothers and I were sent out for reconnaissance. Our commander wanted us to learn what we could about them by watching them...while staying hidden, of course. And we did, but...then we wandered a bit too deeply into their territory. Pan, my oldest brother, was afraid that we would get caught, so he went out and distracted some wolves to give us a chance to leave."</font>

Unconsciously, Robin unsheathed his claws and dug them into the rocks, the tremor in his voice growing stronger.

<font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"He knew what he was doing...that he probably wouldn't be able to leave with us...but he was brave. Braver than all of us. And they swarmed him, but he stayed in fought just so we could make it out alive."</font>

The young wolf grit his teeth in mounting frustration. Pan had been fearless in his confrontation with Death, but the pain he'd had to suffer through...

<font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"Our pack was distraught, but my brothers and I were furious. A few nights later, Argus and Iora came to me and told me that they planned on getting back at the monsters who'd killed Pan...they wanted revenge. And I knew that it was foolish and dangerous and an all around terrible idea, but...but I wanted it, too. So I went with them. Eventually we managed to find the same wolves who'd fought with Pan. We thought that we could win if we ambushed them, since they had no idea that we were coming...but we underestimated their numbers, their...their knowledge of the land, their everything. And we weren't smart about it...we didn't think at all. We were just a-angry and sad and we missed Pan...so much that it h-hurt."</font>

Robin paused, all of a sudden, unsure if he would be able to keep going. He was trembling, now—violently—and sounded as though he was on the verge of tears, months of pent-up grief threatening to burst forth from his chest.

<font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"I w-wasn't strong enough to protect them,"</font> he managed to choke out. <font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"I tried, but I...I just couldn't, I wasn't...wasn't s-s-strong enough. And they knew that I wasn't; they wanted to protect me. And in the end, I...I...I had to leave them behind. They made me, they...th-they wanted me to get away...so I ran and ran and ran, a-a-and I ended up here."</font>

Shoulders shuddering with quiet sobs, Robin curled in on himself, like a plant shriveling in the sun.

<font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"They're all gone...I'm the only one l-left, now...the only one..."</font>




<center><font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"Speaking"</font></center></div>
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Original Coding by Layla/fiftyblackroses</center>
There was tension in his voice, in his body. It was a sign that would make any other wolf stop their prying but the subtle tensions in Robin's shoulders did now sway Indian's resolves to go to the bottom of this story. Gone. Robin would give the simple explanation and Indian would nod slowly in understanding, assuming that that was the end of that story as he turned his gaze forward once more. He was about to turn around, to dismiss the male until they spoke again when the smaller male would continue speaking. He would tell his story, all of it. There was no stutter as her spoke with unnerving clarity. Indian wouldn't look back at the male as he spoke, simply listening in silence. He hated these types of stories. It wasn't that he was a heartless monster... He understood that this man was in pain and that this story was hard on him but Indian just didn't get it... The story would slowly devolve into sobs and slowly Indian's neck would twist to look down at the male with unblinking eyes. What did one do in this situation? He remembered his mother singing to his sisters when they were upset... Somehow he doubted busted out into song would make things better. Instead one taloned paw would lift slowly and he would attempt to pat Robin on the back. <b>"There there..."</b> He would say tensely, frowning slightly. It didn't seem like the right course of action but he had settled on it and he had to stick with it now. Slowly he would recoil his paw and place it on the ground once more, clearing his throat and looking away <b>"The best way to honour the dead is to live our lives like they would have wanted us to live..."</b> He would say after a moment. It was something his mother had said every time someone had died. It hadn't been often, and it had never been anyone Indian had known well... Part of him wondered if she had been saying it for her own benefit.
<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel+Decorative' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="background-image: url('http://i.imgur.com/3g0j8XL.jpg'); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: bottom center; width: 480px; height: 800px; background-color: #fd3752; border-radius: 0px 90px; border: 3px solid #330000;">

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Though he sorely wished he could stop himself from crying, feeling horribly ashamed of having fallen apart in front of his new leader, Robin found that he couldn't. His small frame refused to cease trembling, and the tears seemed to flow endlessly from his eyes, pooling at the underside of his muzzle where they dripped down his chest and stained the red-and-white fur.

He must think I'm pitiful, the young wolf mused, squeezing his eyes shut as vision blurred. And he's right. Here I am, mewling like a child...

And then there was a sudden tap on his back. Robin froze, the feeling of claws lightly pricking the skin beneath his fur sending a shiver down his spine. Was Indian going to hit him for making a fool of himself...? Convinced, the young wolf steeled himself for an inevitable blow, the quietest of whimpers escaping his nose. To his surprise, however, the feathered wolf drew his paw back and spoke to him.

Robin allowed himself to relax a little, his sobs gradually dying down until they were reduced to loud sniffles. Pan and the others wouldn't have wanted him to wallow in grief. They had cared about each others' happiness and safety above all else when they'd lived, and the young wolf doubted that that had changed, even if they weren't around, anymore.


<font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"I guess you're r-right,"</font> Robin murmured a moment later, still sniffling. <font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"Pan would fr-fr-frown at me if he kn-knew how much I was crying, just now...ha..."</font>

He fell silent, then, his gaze still boring into the ground until he turned his head to look at Indian, his lips curving into a sad smile.

<font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"I kn-know they m-might cause you trouble, b-b-but you should b-be thankful for your s-sisters and brothers. I'm not s-saying you aren't, but...w-well, with what happened at the m-m-meeting..."</font>

Unsure of whether not he was making sense, Robin trailed off, again, and seemed reluctant to continue.



<center><font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"Speaking"</font></center></div>
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Original Coding by Layla/fiftyblackroses</center>
As usual Indian wouldn't notice the tension, the preparation for a blow that Robin thought was about to come. He would notice the tension and the relaxation when Indian touched him then moved way, he wasn't completely oblivious to the world but he just didn't know what the reasoning was so he would simply ignore it. Robin would take a moment to reign his emotions in, sniffling slightly as he tried to reign his emotions in, something Indian was tankful for. He didn't do well with emotions, especially tears and sorrow... Robin would agree, saying that Pan would have been displeased with Robin's show of emotion and Indian would nod slowly in agreement. What loved one would ever wish their friends or family to be sad? 

A moment later Robin would look up to Indian and speak of his family, of the show Cara had put on for everyone. He told him that he was lucky and the smallest of smiles would twinge up the edges of his lips. Lucky... <b>"Our father always said family was everything. They might disagree with me, I may disagree with them but I will always love them. I hope they feel the same. Unfortunately my sister seems to think I have been entrapped by a pretty face... A thought I hope to disprove soon enough."</b> He would say slowly. He supposed he had brought it on himself, springing the news of Andra's rise to the throne beside him on everyone rather suddenly. He had hoped that they would all remain civil until they had privacy but Cara's temper had reared its ugly head...
<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel+Decorative' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="background-image: url('http://i.imgur.com/3g0j8XL.jpg'); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: bottom center; width: 480px; height: 800px; background-color: #fd3752; border-radius: 0px 90px; border: 3px solid #330000;">

<div style="text-align: justify; color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 11px; font-family: Arial; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: 15px; padding: 30px;margin:20px;text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #1f1612;width:420;height:380px;overflow:auto;"><font style="font-family: Cinzel Decorative; color: #000000; text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #1f1612;font-size: 30px; border-bottom: 1px solid #120908;">Robin Willowreaver</font><br><br><br><br>

Robin nodded a little to show that he understood, the words of Indian's father resonating with him. Family had been everything to his old pack...the bonds that existed between shared blood were of the strongest in existence, and they'd been devoted to making them even stronger, to using that strength as the foundation of a group of wolves that could come together and form a single, powerful being.

As far as the young wolf was concerned, Indian was lucky to be surrounded by so many siblings who obviously cared for them. Even Cara, who'd brought about unneeded tension, seemed concerned for the well-being of him and the new pack he was to lead. In her own way, at least.

<font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"I'll b-b-bet she's just worried,"</font> Robin said, having turned away to gaze out at the green and grey of the flatlands. <font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"Angry, b-but worried."</font>

And then he fell silent, wondering just how curious he was allowed to be when it came to Indian's method of decision-making. If he overstepped some boundary with a question, though, he supposed that his leader's refusal to answer would serve as enough of a dissuasion from continuing down the same road. All in all, it was kind of difficult to read the feathered wolf. Robin usually found that he was good at analyzing others, but Indian was a bit...well, guarded, in a way. More often than not his expression was blank, devoid of whatever emotions were tumbling about in that head of his. The young wolf actually admired the quality.

<font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"If y-you don't mind m-me asking, why d-did you choose Andraste as the qu-qu-queen...?"</font> Robin ventured, his voice tentative.




<center><font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"Speaking"</font></center></div>
<div style="height: 420px;">&nbsp;</div>
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Original Coding by Layla/fiftyblackroses</center>
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