The time that lapsed between Archibald leaving Ktulu with Ophelia in the meadow had not been great, but it had been enough for the King to decide what needed to be done. So, with his bitch in tow at his side, Archibald made his way north. The trek was long and arduous, but his hefty body and hardy nature was enough to endure it with ease. Loretta's mood seemed to improve the further north they pushed. As the temperature dropped a new pep was added to the malamute's step. She was in a land that was particular to her breeding, and Archibald witnessed the pup in her as she played and ran as they travelled as she often did in the deep throws of winter. However, the massive stallion reined her in as they reached the path that lead them to the Basin. He needed to keep her demeanor as a passive, steady, and stoney facade. They were here to speak to Ophelia, not cause qualms. After all, the Aurora Basin was the World's Edge's ally, and Archibald was always keen to keep those ties well.

Stopping the king looked around. About a yard away the sentinels cast their soulless eyes on him. Despite their large, metal, domineering stature the Dauntless was unphased by their stead at the gate. He was no enemy--and even if he was, Archibald was the Dauntless and would not succumb to fear or apprehension. Loretta stood on his left, shoulder pressed into his solid knee, and she was silent. Her amber eyes stared straight past the sentinels and into the tundra of the valley below. Despite them feeling summer, it was mild and it pleased both Loretta and the king.

"Ophelia, we seek counsel." His words were simple as he called out into the dim light of the morning, mist catching his breath from his bellow. The last time he stood on these borders he agreed to give his soldiers to battle--against his wishes--and today would not be so different. Ophelia was with him then, too, but as his Chieftess. Archibald did not possess the same mind and magic as the Forsaken did, but he knew well she did not agree to the contract they had signed in blood and gore all those seasons ago. She had stepped down, fled to the wilderness, found herself...and in time, Archibald had done the same.

[I cannot make a private thread in a herdland, but this is for OPHELIA only, PLEASE.]

The flickering candle that Ophelia was danced in the distance, and with a relieved breath Archibald moved forward with her to close the distance between them. He felt comfortable in her presence despite the looming sentinels. Archibald paid them no more mind--any beast who could not obey their master was not to be trusted, and Archibald knew Ophelia well enough that he was confident she would be a master over them. Sticking out his pale nose, he touched her shoulder and breathed warmly into her alabaster coat. ”Ophelia, thank you for coming.” Her string of questions was quick, and Archibald looked on her with hard, golden eyes. He nodded when she dismissed her own questions, and moved his massive body to follow after her comparatively dainty frame. The tent surprised him. This was a glorious contraption, he concluded, as Ophelia led him inside. This tent--quite similar to the herd tents on the Caela Insula--would seclude them from the rest and hush their words to any enemy present. Once comfortably inside--if one could even say that, given Archibald’s mass taking up a vast majority of the room--Archibald nodded again.

The King looked the Lady in her eyes, his stare confident but seeking, and honest. He had nothing to hide from Ophelia. He had pledged himself to her once as a brother of arms--he had protected her, walked with her (though distantly) while she was missing her memories, and had fought alongside her to reclaim the home they deserved. She had free range of his thoughts and his heart. Their friendship and bond was strong--stronger than anything Archibald could have imagined in his life, being born to the mother he was born to. But, in the wake of her death and the absence of his brothers, Ophelia was his sister and she would forever remain as such. There was nothing the white queen could do to breach his trust--save for things Archibald knew she would rather die than perform (such as harming his children). ”With the Moon Goddess walking freely in the World’s Edge I have not been able to sleep. Constantly I move throughout the herd lands, watching for her, protecting my kingdom from her tyranny. Above all things, my herd deserved to feel safe in their own home. They do not.” Archibald lowered his voice some, his tone hardening with the anger that boiled inside of his chest. The Moon Goddess had taken too much from him, from those he loved, and if she could not be eradicated, she needed to be abandoned. ”The recent tension between the Hidden Falls and our herds--personally and politically--has given me the thought of invasion. I am not confident that my herd, my children, or myself can have total faith in any god of Helovia once more, but the safety the Earth God would provide against the Moon Goddess is something I cannot deny. My children reside in the Dragon’s Throat for that very reason--the Moon does not hold weight where the Sun reigns. Ophelia, help me.”

Loretta watched the pale queen as Archibald spoke, though she did not pick up on any true emotion of anger. Her tail thumped against the hard ground. Will Ophelia help? she asked, looking up with curious amber eyes to her warlord. Archibald seemed to relax some, the muscles in his shoulders loosening as the Forsaken spoke. How true was that name of her now, Archibald wondered. She was strong, able, and wise. She had grown so much since her time of leading the Grey, and Archibald confidently, yet inwardly, decided he was proud of her. It was a different sort of pride than he felt as he looked on the strength of his sons, the beauty of his daughter. It was more akin to the pride he felt towards Lakota when she held her ground against him and his stubbornness of being healed after battle. A softness entered his eyes, so strange for the stoic, cold stallion, and he exhaled a breath he had not noticed he had locked inside of his chest.

”Midas as hurt Ktulu deeply, that is true. Ghost, his leading counterpart, made a mockery of Kaj while meeting with us. I was not lead then, but the taste of disdain for the hybrid mare has not left my tongue. Above the insults they have dealt towards the Edge, this war will be about my family. My herd. The ones I have sworn my life to protect, and this is the only way I see fit to fully acheive that promise at this time.” Archibald’s ears twitched some as Ophelia spoke, knowing nothing of the tensions that had started between the Falls and the Basin so long ago. During the reign of Illynx, Archibald spent most of his time in the ranks of the Windtossed Foothills and as an outcast. He had not been into political matters aside from the calling of his troops in his last herd placement--not since he had been Chief beforehand. ”I must admit,” Archibald opened his heart for Ophelia to dissect as she saw fit, ”I yearn to once more walk on the lands I hold in higher regard to any other in Helovia.”

Even if the name had changed, and the Earth God had moved his hoof over the land to morph the landscape, the territory was still the Windtossed Foothills, and it would forever belong to Archibald in his heart. ”Thank you for your allegiance, Ophelia. I will gather Kahlua and Kaj and meet you as soon as our hooves can carry us.” Archibald moved towards the entrance of the tent, but before moving his massive frame from beneath its secretive grasp the Dauntless turned over his shoulder, ”Bring Ktulu with your troops.” with that, the king dismissed himself.