"Leave. You are not welcome here."

That had been the only words of parting that Apollo had spoken to Confutatis as he stood upon the muddy battlefield, his sides heaving and breathing strained. His body ached in agony from the wounds he received, muck and grime coating every inch of him, but... He had won. For another day, at least, the Foothills would be safe from blackening madness of those like Confutatis'.

As he had left the sight of carnage and bloodshed, the tears that fell from the sky began to slow until the storm passed completely, as though the grieving souls of the dead had finally found peace. Perhaps they had... Whether they had been crying for he or his challenger, Apollo would never know. His destination was quite simple; the waterfall that had served as the prime meeting place of the Foothills. It was there that he would summon those of his family, to ensure them that all was well, at least for now... And answer any questions or concerns that they may have. This fight had only been a taste of what could happen, and Apollo knew that next time, they may not get so lucky.

Slowly and with pain radiating from his wounds, the Chief stepped into the river that flowed through the Foothills plains, lowering his head with a cringe of pain to wash away the blood that coated his face and horn. As the water coated his jeweled crown, cleansing the crystalline blue from the debauched blood, Apollo released a tired, haggard sigh. He was exhausted, sore, and desperately wished Lakota was there to tend to his wounds... Perhaps, if he called for her, she would come.

It was only after Apollo had washed away as much blood, grime, and mud from his body as he could that he pulled himself from the flowing river, soulful brown eyes searching those around him. Every step brought him pain, but it could have been so much worse. Coming to a stop atop the hill, the Merciful sucked in a deep breath and called out to his brothers and sisters.

"Brothers," Apollo began, his voice sounding tired even to himself, "Sisters... Hear my words, and please grace me with your presence once more. There are things that need to be discussed." For him, his herd was not just a herd. They were family. This blood that coated his body was shed for them, the pain that he found himself in was for them, and the blood that he had drawn, no matter how hard it had tugged at his morals, had also been for them... And he would do it again in a heart beat, if they asked.

Only when they had begun to arrive did he continue, his head held high despite his fatigue. The gash upon his neck and shoulders ached at the action, the horrid burn of acid from Confutatis' saliva painful, but he did his best to appear strong. "Many of you I do not know, and you may not even know me... And I'm sorry for being so estranged. I am Apollo; your Chief. I serve beside Phaedra the Opulent, your Chieftess, to guide, love, and protect you all. I am aware that there may be some concerns, questions, or things that some of you would like to say... Please, do not hold your tongues. Speak. I implore you."

[ooc: Set after the battle. This meeting is NOT mandatory, but Apollo would enjoy meeting the new lovely faces of the Foothills. :D]