"Where brilliance is good and madness is better..."
Helovia Info
Helovia opened in February 2012! We are an active fantasy equine RPG
Where once the world narrowed into naught but gray dust and desolation, the gods called for life. Wielding the elements of fire and light, dark and wind, earth and water, spark and time, they have created Helovia. The realm is set within the mythical globe of Loorien, a planet rich with all variety of creatures and blessed with all manner of magic. Originally populated by nomadic, tribal characters, they've since grown into massive empires saturated with culture and history. Separated into four distinct segments of Helovia, called "The Regions," each band of horse strong enough and capable enough, took up the power and responsibility of leadership. Unicorns, old, wise and mysterious, took to the north, hidden in forests of mists and shadows and rarely making themselves known beyond their cliffs of the World's Edge. Equines, vast, organized and militaristic, split into two, one group went north to the Windtossed Foothills and the other group went south to the Dragon's Throat. Pegasus remained nomadic, making their homes in various parts of The Wilds in a migratory manner. For many generations, the land was peaceful and calm, but peace was never the way of the gods. With a clash of argument, war and bloodshed massacred Helovia, and in the aftermath, the realm was eerily quiet. Now, as newcomers sweep into this land, they are met with the lingering bitterness of the gods and the struggle to reclaim what was lost. Nothing remains safe or certain while sorcerers and soldiers alike brood and bide their time for revenge, honor and glory.
Site Wide Plots
Kaos :: The Beginning of the End ☼ - 6/2017 - Kaos placed Helovia in a time-bubble for a short period of time, but the Helovian gods are fighting back. But Kaos is powerful- far more powerful than anyone thought. This may be the beginning of the end of Helovia as we know it.
Kisamoa :: A New Kind of Kaos ☼ - 3/2017 - Kisamoa asks Helovians to help him restore the Spectral Marsh. Which side will you choose?
Invasions :: All Out War ☼ - 5/2/16 - New layout and the brand new invasion rules are up! Thank you for your patience and we look forward to getting started with this new adventure.
The Rift :: Gods Do Die ☼ - 8/2015 - Helovia Gods are saving the Rift from corrupt gods! Can Helovians band together against these foreign deities?
The Literal Ship ☼ - 2/8/15 - Oh no! You have to pair up for Valentine's day!
Sky Island :: Murder ☼ - 10/25/14 - Vesta has been found dead on the island, and the gods have called to you to solve the murder!
Sky Island :: Peace ☼ - 7/7/14 - An island has appeared in the sky! Clouds carry Helovians from the Veins to the sky.
Restoration :: We Welcome the Dawn ☼ - 9/21/13 - The sun has finally risen on this day, giving the land new light, but the Time God and the Sun God have yet to be seen.
Endless Night :: Broken Magic Plot ☼ - 8/30/13 - The earth god has returned and is walking across Helovia to heal the land. Every area can now be considered lush and prosperous, but the sun has still not risen.
☼ - 7/19/13 - The moon has risen in the sky, heralding the return of the Goddess of the moon. Lamp trees which light the paths have grown brighter, moon flowers which grow in dark places have begun to grow and prosper and the world is brighter, filled with a new hope.
Endless Night :: Dead Magic Plot ☼ - 6/22/13 - The gods of Helovia, in order to protect the world, have disappeared into the rift, leaving the world sunless, moonless and magic-less in their absence. Only the herdlands have a source of light, but lamp-trees with glowing leaves and branches sporadically line the popular roads and paths from place to place.
Doppleganger Plot ☼ - 6/20/13 - The God of Time is still struggling to close the rift though which the dopplegangers have come. He has requested that his brothers and sister assist in closing this hole, but without knowing why it opened, the task is proving difficult. Magic still remains faulty and hard to control, but the herdlands continue to be places of refuge for those who are fortunate enough to call these lands home.
ORANGEMOON cools off the lands with a a viscious force. Colder than normal, a sign of things to come during Frostfall, Helovia is bathed in a rich tropical lushness - albiet a cold one. The coastlines of the Dragon's Throat are pelted constantly by tidal waves, and the desert climate is humid but chilly. Ice begins to form early in the Aurora Basin leaving the winding trails slick and dangerous. The mists of the World's Edge coat everything in a glistening crystalline shine which encourages mould to grow everywhere. The Spectral Marsh is the only area which remains fertile, blissfully temperature and lush.
Cotm
Character of the Month for
June, 2017
WEAVER, Corporal of the Aurora Basin, is a relatively recent addition to Helovia and has taken it by storm. Branded with the seal of Death on her chest, intrigue and interest follow both her past and present. Though she is assuredly beautiful, her sometimes sharp personality reveals that there is more to this uni-peg hybrid than meets the eye. Proving herself able on the battlefield in the Basin’s warrior ranks, we can’t wait to see her test her mettle against the looming Kaos happenings! Congratulations!
Helovia RPG was created by Tamme and Blu and coded by Tamme also known as Schwartze. All coding, palettes and imagery are copyrighted to the website and are not for use outside of Helovia. Thank you to our ServerMaster for hosting Helovia. A special thanks goes to Neo for all of her coding help and fixing Tamme's errors, Boom, for her loyal service and creation of the Time God, and to Ali for her consistent contributions and dedication.
07-22-2013, 02:42 PM (This post was last modified: 07-22-2013, 02:43 PM by Ophelia.)
Ophelia had avoided the land she had claimed for a long time, and she knew why. She could not face those whom she called family and not say what was in her heart, but she knew that this choice would not come easy. How could she expect those she loved to understand her? How could she not protect them for something that she helped create? The thought, now clear in her mind and void of any frills and lies was dark and it made her soul ache in a way that plagued her with guilt and the inability to truly do anything. She was trapped in the shackles of her own choices, lies she told herself so she could sleep at night, and the only ones who kept her going this long were those in this herd.
Ophelia hoped that they could understand, prayed that they would, but she could not expect them to. How could she? She had not only lied to herself, but to all of them, as their leader. In her absence, she had expected one of them to rise up, to take her place, but it seemed like their unfounded loyalty was too great, which only make her decision that much harder. Still, she could no longer avoid the truth and could no longer keep her soul in a state of torment. Ophelia had to make a choice, she had to act, to do something.
Maybe, just maybe they could make this work? Would hearts so filled with violence be willing to change? Would her sister even consider this idea, or would she think Ophelia to be committing treason? Still, she had to try. She owed it to all of them, her family - the only one she ever, truly had.
So her cloven hooves carried her through the lightly, snow dusted fields, the moon bearing down on her sparkling, pale body. The shards of stone in her hair glittered and danced under the stars, making her look like something straight from a fairy tale, but Ophelia was too insecure, too humble to realize her own beauty. With every step she took, a lump in her throat hardened, and she finally came to the edge of the waterfall and inhaled sharply, hesitating just a second before forcing herself to make the call. Any who would gather, could come, but she assumed that the rest of the herd would hear it eventually, one way or another.
Tinek perched atop a stone ledge, watching with a solemn, pleased expression. He wanted her to be happy, so he supported this decision.
Once they had gathered, she frowned. "I come to you having made a difficult decision, so I am not going to... coat it in sugar, simply explain," she said, steeling her voice and yanking her dual colored gaze upward. "The life of a sell sword is tainting my soul. I lied to myself, told myself that we would be helping those who were in need, but what have we done? We have supported the most massive powers in Helovia. The God of the Earth, Kri of the Throat, and the Aurora Basin have offered to pay for our services in one way or another," she explained. "We offer lives... for transient, useless trinkets and crafted things. We sacrifice others for our own well being, and that... I cannot... stomach this... cruelty."
Ophelia frowned deeply. "I tried to live with this choice I made, for you, but I feel it eating away at me every day. The fact that this is wrong, that we battle for nothing, that we put a price on another's life, it.... it's turning me into something that I am not. It is time that I left with what soul I have left to salvage." She looked up at them with a deep frown. "I am sorry, for having lead you to this. I am so sorry for taking you down this dark road, and I do not expect any forgiveness. However, I owe it to you all to tell you my decision."
She paused. "I love you all, but this is something that I have to do, for my own crumbling sanity." The pale mare smiled weakly before turning to leave, an outcast once more.
[Any of the herd is more than welcome to reply :3 ]
Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.
For a while Ktulu had known that there was something amiss with her sister. She was absent for days on end and when she was present there was a tension between them that had not been there before. It broke the dark mare's heart that a wedge had been driven between herself and her sister, but she didn't know how to fix what was wrong. She didn't even know for sure what was wrong, she only had the faint idea of what it was. So she'd waited for Ophelia to come forward with what was troubling her and though it took some time her patience was rewarded.
The Constrictor came forward and listened in silence to her sister as she began to speak her decision and her reasoning. A frown marred Ktulu's dark face, but she did not speak up to interrupt her pale sister, instead letting her speak her peace. Somewhere deep inside she had known that this life was not for Ophelia. She was too pure, too kind to be tainted by such violence. She never had been the bad one. Ktulu could not lie to herself, though. The Grey had changed in ways she had not anticipated. When she'd spoken to her sister about founding the group they were to fight for those who could not fight for themselves. The ones that were weak and being picked on and bullied by those who were larger and stronger for no reason.
Now they were the ones being the bullies. It made her stomach churn.
"I do not hold your decision against you." Ktulu finally spoke, her gaze softening for the first time in ages as she looked at her sister. She stepped forward intent on pulling her pale sister into an embrace, but then she stopped. Would Ophelia even want her to touch her considering the dark path she'd brought her down? "I love you, sister. Do well for yourself and know that if you need me I'm will always be here." She stepped back and watched Ophelia, already noting in her mind the changes that would be made within the Grey's ranks. They would go back to what they should have been and not stay the monsters that they had become.
07-22-2013, 06:43 PM (This post was last modified: 07-22-2013, 07:11 PM by Tamme.)
ARM YOURSELF Because no one else here will save you and I will replace you
The red stallion approached when his leader called, not out of respect but out of curiosity. Ktulu's sister had been an irritation from the start, getting in the way, being pushy, or whatever else it was she did. At this point, the white mare only had to breathe a sigh of disappointment and Rafe would have been on the edge of his hooves, ready to chase her out of the land. Not that he could say much, having spent most of these dark days hiding out near the light source, but what else was there to do? Nothing.
No contracts, except some warrior contract with the Basin - ridiculous. A group like this should be operating constantly, but so far, he had been asked to do nothing but go after a damn flower. How, fucking insulting. Rafe supposed he could have sparred, but really, what was the point with nothing else going on? The stallion was rattling in his cage, wanting to be let loose, so when the white chieftess finally renounced her crown, the blue eyed stallion tried very hard not to display his pleasure.
She was out of the way, and now movement could finally happen. The stallion's outward appearance barely twitched except for maybe an upturn of the side of his face which disappeared almost as quickly as it came. Rafe turned to his leader and bowed his four crowned head, eyeing the white one as she walked out. "We should capitalize on the Basin contract," he said, though he had rarely spoken in her presence before. Rafe's voice was smooth like vodka, deep and charismatic. "We have been too silent for too long. Soon, others may see us as excellent targets and turn their sights from the larger herds. We need to make our strength known."
Perhaps he was right, perhaps not, but he wanted movement. He wanted a job besides shoving rocks around a field. The moon, high in the sky, only made his hunger for battle that much stronger. A cloak of darkness was a perfect ally, and they did not know how much longer this veil would last.
An easy lope brings the wolf, companions in tow, toward the call of Ophelia. He knew her voice almost as well as he did that of Comadre or his own, having spent much of his time here in her company. This time, the tone seemed melancholy, and the hybrid quietly prepared himself and his beloved friends for what awaited them. With the return of the moon, the lines between he and his lupine companions had returned, but they were unable to speak freely as they once had. Instead, only emotions or general feelings could be communicated; Osiris was reminded of the early days being bonded to the little black. Unsteady, vague, but at least it was better than the eerie silence of their minds.
Upon his arrival on the scene, his golden eyes quickly flit around his company, Comadre flying quietly over to land on the stone ledge beside Tinek, offering a small coo in greeting, extending a webbed wing toward the larger silver dragon. Much like Osiris and Ophelia, their bondeds had forged a friendship.
The trio of wolves by his side sit in attention by his legs, Kaya foremost. Their eyes glimmer with the same attentive respect of Osiris, four pairs of furred ears tilted forward toward her. As she begins to speak, the wolves all appear to frown simultaneously, the emotions shared by a link restored. The hybrid's expression remains relatively stoic, however, despite the downturn of his lips. His eyes are calm, passive, but his heart rages with turmoil. Ophelia had brought him into a family of strong souls and bodies. She had accepted him when few others might. In this land, Ophelia was his oldest friend, a piece of his heart. Without her within the Foothills, would he still feel part of the family here? He wondered, but could find no certain answer.
He listens quietly to the sound of others' voices, the darker sister's voice surprisingly gentle. The smooth, debonair voice of a stallion, Rafe, next. A flash of Osiris's eyes roll over to him. Despite his efforts, the wolf could almost feel the smile hidden behind his words. Happy, very happy to see her leave. The wolf felt like snarling at him, but remained quiet. Pahana does so in his stead, surprising for the larger male wolf that was normally silent.
"Ophelia," Osiris begins, his voice confident, but low. "I have loyalty to you more than any of our brethren here. As such, I will follow you - as a vagabond, an outcast... whatever fate you would choose for yourself." Golden eyes glance around the gathered for a moment before returning to her visions of crimson and sapphire. "I am your friend until my final breath. Allow me to stand by your side."
we resign ourselves to existence in the dark. </style> we must stay afraid. </style>
With the rising of the moon, all of Phae's magical abilities had returned. Although her steps were nearly as soundless as they had been, they were not so muffled, that the spy moved without causing any disturbances, as once she did. As the sooty spy drew near, beckoned by Ophelia's voice, she felt a pit in her stomach begin to grow and swell, as her Leader's words began to ring in her ears.
Leaving?
Stella trilled slowly as she rode upon Phaedra's back, not seeking out a place near Compadre and Tinek, for fear of upsetting her bonded. Already, the bird could feel a wave - no a wall - of emotion building upon with the sooty spy's breast, as Ophelia indicated that she was leaving. Ophelia was the one who had heralded Phaedra into Helovia, who had offered her a place amongst the Grey even upon their first meeting, when the golden girl's talents as a spy were not yet known. There, Ophelia had taught her, and welcomed her as family, even as she made mistakes - becoming pregnant, being unable to aid in the invasion - even after all of that, she was given a place in the Foothills, and magic to accompany her new rank.
Leaving?
Too dumfounded, and silenced by the words of others, that the glimmering palomino remained partially in the shadows, watching as Ophelia drifted away, like a wraith.
"What now?" She whispered to Stella, her vibrant sea-green gaze having lost its flirtatious gleam. Would she stay? Or like Osiris, would she too offer to follow her Leader?
And so another part of his world fell apart. He had never known Ophelia personally, apart from a few words exchanged between them and his experience fighting alongside her during the invasion. She was revered and admired deeply by the members of the Foothills, and though he had never been able to call her a friend of his, he would have liked to. Chances slip away from your grasp when you wait too long, however, and so he found yet another opportunity lost to the sands of time, along with so many others. The endless night had taken so much from them, and now it was to take one of their leaders, too?
He had always been fond of night and darkness, especially the stars and moon, but now it felt so lonely. He stood on the shore of the pool, with its light faintly illuminating the slopes of the Foothills, though its glow could not reach the distant walls of the cliffs he called home. His herd-mates surrounded him, their presence comforting and reassuring, though even their familiarity could not chase away the despair he felt. He felt neither anger nor resentment toward her for her decision; he understood the need to make changes for one’s self sometimes. Wordlessly, he offered her his best wishes as he watched her depart, the light leaving her snow-white coat as she dissolved into darkness.
Back at home, they might have called her a deserter for leaving her family in such a time of need. The Foothills was different, however. They were a band of mercenaries, bound to each other as if they were family, and such grudges would not be held against their former leader. However, it didn’t seem as if everyone was so sad to see Ophelia leave them. A blood bay stallion who Murdock recognized as a warrior of their ranks stepped forward, his expression cold as stone though it seemed to hide a hint of a smile. Perhaps now some would see an open rank, left free for the taking by anyone with a bright new idea that could get them somewhere. Whatever direction they were taken in, Murdock only hoped it would be the right one.
"talk talk talk"
If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman?
In the moonlit darkness of the everlasting night, the shadowmere interrupted her rounds of scouting and protection, the duties regarding the preservation of her herd lands, and watched as her Pale Lady renounced her claim to the title. It was with great humility and dignity on Ophelia’s part, Circe thought, that she stood with an open heart and transparent eyes as she confessed her cowardice to her family. There was no stomaching the things that the Grey horses did, then, and here she was, owning up to it with sincerity in her words. The sorceress supposed she could respect that.
The objective part of Circe’s mind wondered what it would be like to follow in Ophelia’s footsteps; if she decided to turn her warrior-plated heart into something warmer and gentler, to renounce the ways of battle for profit and exchange. Her mind wrapped around the enormity of the situation—that Ophelia was leaving, truly abandoning their family—and reflected on the poise the Pale Lady had acted with. She was a true feminine, the epitome of grace and beauty, and Circe would never deny the pride she had felt standing by her chieftess’s side. Suppose it was selfish to blame the Forsaken for facing the truth of the matter; perhaps it was childish to yearn for Ophelia to continue the charade for the sake of morale? There was reverence in this, reverence and admiration hidden in the ruff, and Circe would recognize it.
She didn’t have to like it.
Though mostly the shadowmere’s façade was inscrutable, it was a slight look of disgust, an eye of disappointment, and an edge of regret and sadness in the corner of her mouth with which she looked upon her former Mistress; then she shook her head ever so slightly, lowered her gaze, and turned away from her, returning to her duties. There would be no following her Pale Lady; Circe knew herself. She did not come here in the wake of the Pale Lady’s service; she came to join a family, to become a part of a body once more, a shield sister and a comrade once again. To be a vagabond was distasteful to her; she was a violent tempest, a wild storm that needed to be reined in and given purpose. She could not take up that life again with a clear consciousness. Not after the things she went through.
Would she forgive Ophelia? Of course. The Pale Lady would never stop being the Pale Lady, and Circe would never lose the affection the white mare had won from her. However, she would look forward to the day where she could look her adversary in the eye and say the Grey had no cowards—and not risk a lie in the doing.
07-23-2013, 12:52 PM (This post was last modified: 07-23-2013, 12:54 PM by Archibald.)
ARCHIBALD the DAUNTLESS Cause You gotta be bigger, be faster, be stronger
If you're gonna survive any longer
The world was dark. Hearts were dark. It was changing, and he was not truly ready.
The general stood tall on the mound of earth beneath him, his mammoth hooves pressed into the snow with ease. Harsh wind brushed across his body and he wondered if the light would ever return. Archibald was born and raised in darkness; he was used to the night and the evil that lurked within. Once upon a time, he was the evil. Part of him still was the evil; part of him had moved beyond—if one looked at it as so. He had killed his mother, his brother, and had taken his family on a new path. He had mated with his first and last mare—Circe—and they were devastated by the monstrous blow of losing their child, their beautiful daughter. Archibald still dreamed, and forever would, how the memory of the small but solid foal felt, cold and limp, at his side, curled under his powerful neck. If he were a different stallion, with less of a darkness grasping him, he may have shed a tear for the loss. Circe had cried. He watched dreadfully, calling his brothers to side them in the tragedy. Knox and Evers—proving to be more loyal to him than his own twin—were the first to come with Loretta’s beck and call. Archibald would treasure, protect, and reward them when the time came.
For now, he just needed a glimpse of the light. The return of the moon had given him a morsel of hope for the return of the others, but he still yearned for the way that the sunlight reflected off of the pool in the Foothill’s heart; still yearned for the power he felt flow through his veins by the gift of the Earth God. Archibald reminded himself that, even without the gift, he was still the Dauntless—a warlord, a titan among ants.
Turning on his hind, slowly and begrudgingly, the stallion moved inwards towards the heart of his herdland. The Foothills had been quiet and his patrols had been almost uneventful in each turn of his head. Through the snow, Archibald let his head hang comfortably level with his spine, and Loretta trotted beside him faithfully. Ophelia’s call hit his ears like piercing wind, and his pace quickened intently. Surveying the group that settled—Ktulu, Osiris, Phaedra, Murdock—Archibald stopped all-too-close to the one he was most pulled towards, Circe. The mammoth lowered his muzzle to gently touch her withers, and hoped she would accept the gesture. Lifting his eyes to lock gaze at the turning chieftess, Archibald merely nodded towards her. He had no say in her decisions, no pull for her to stay. The Dauntless had predicted such a turn of events when the sisters had met and argued over the Basin contract. Archibald could not say he was disappointed in Ophelia, nor could he say that he understood and respected her decisions; all he could do was be the guarding warrior he had been since the birth of their, albeit different, sort of friendship.
Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall
Ophelia. It was a name he’d come to respect and a name he had pledged his loyalty to. There were many things Locket did not know about her and yet the day they had danced in battle told him all he needed to know, that she was worthy to lead the land he loved. The panda warrior made his way to the crowd of horses and listened to her parting words, his heart feeling heavy at the thought of a Foothills without her presence, but he understood the feelings she conveyed and admired her bravery in her honesty. A worthy leader indeed and a mare whose history would not end here. He listened to the words of the herd given in love and he smiled at the former chieftess’ retreating back, quietly commenting to himself. "You are not as forsaken as your title would lead us to believe." He wondered if she could feel it, the love given to her freely by those who had followed her all the way into battle, those same horses who now felt lost at her absence. "Goodbye Ophelia, I hope you find the happiness you deserve."
With that he turned and walked over to Ktulu and nodded to Rafe who voiced his opinion in impressive confidence. The wolf horse had expressed his wishes to leave with Ophelia and he wondered if others would follow her, he wouldn't be surprised after all. She did inspire that kind of devotion in the panda boys eyes. Yet, Locket’s place was here, in the Foothills. He had fought against ridiculous odds for it and he wasn’t about to abandon it now, he would serve the herd and the Earth God, watching over it until his bones withered away. He considered the contract they had agreed to then and nodded slowly. ”I agree with Rafe, if we pulled out of it now we would be seen as weak and no one wants to hire a weak mercenary.” He said in his odd vocals in a tone of determination.
Turning then, he surveyed the crowd one last time, nodding in respect to Archibald and Murdock before looking curiously at Phaedra’s companion, a few details clicking in his mind. Ophelia and Tinek. Phaedra and her bird. Ktulu and Eytan. That just left the other, white bear he was supposed to find. Slowly his quest was falling into place and he hoped soon he would be able to return triumphantly to the Earth God.
The call disrupted him from his thoughts, causing his head to snap upwards and towards the way of the waterfall.
Things had changed since the eternal darkness had swallowed Helovia, robbing them of their light, their magic, their hope... Except, in a turn of events, the moon and the stars had been returned to them, much to Apollo's delight. Finally there was hope in such bleak times, for with the return of the moon and the stars, surely life could continue on? If the moon returned, then shouldn't the sun follow? Whether or not he was graced with his magic, the Earth Medic had tried to not let this handicap hinder his duties to his fellows, and despite the darkness, and his fear to it, Apollo had done what he could to help.
Still... The bleating call that echoed throughout the night couldn't be ignored. Ophelia... The Forsaken, a name that Apollo truly believed didn't apply to his lady, was calling them, and as always when one of the leaders of the Grey called, he would go. Pushing himself upright and giving his body a good, solid shake to rid the clinging flakes of the recent snowfall, the black and white stallion ventured onwards, following the sound of Ophelia's cry to the familiar. His crystalline horn glinted in the moonlight, honeyed eyes shimmering as he took in the sight of those who followed Ophelia's beckon.
Pausing at the slope of the hill, Apollo listened, his ears snapping forward as Ophelia spoke. She was... Leaving them? A darkness that rivaled the one that plagued Helovia swelled from the pit of his gut and causing his insides to churn, ears tipping backwards in fear and surprise. Ophelia was leaving? Her words echoed around in the medic's head, repeating themselves over and over again before finding purchase somewhere in his brain. A heavy breath was blown out from his nose, one of beweildered acceptance. Ophelia had been the one to welcome him into the healing ranks of the Grey, she had been the one to give him a chance, to give him the family that he had lacked, the one thing he had always wanted... And in turn, he would forever be grateful.
"I won't squander this gift you have given me," Apollo whispered after the pale queen, knowing that Ophelia wouldn't hear his precious words but unable to keep his thoughts silent, "Thank you."
Apollo's head lowered after the Forsaken's fleeting form. Sadness clutched at his heart, but he understood her departure perhaps all too well. Ophelia searched for happiness. It had been that very thing that had driven him from his own home and away from his only sister, Andreas. Yes, he understood, but that didn't mean he had to like it. For so long he had grown used to the familiarity of both Ktulu and Ophelia being around, and now, it felt as though the Grey was wobbling on its very foundation. Would Ktulu lead them alone? He didn't doubt her abilities as a leader, of course not, but wouldn't such a thing be overwhelming?
His eyes sought out the form of the Constrictor, swallowing thickly. He was loyal to Ktulu just as he was loyal to Ophelia, and he felt sympathy for whatever their dark queen was feeling. Ears swiveled back around, listening, waiting... If Ktulu was to be their only leader, then he would listen to her words and do what he could to help, just as he always had.
[ooc: Hope this isn't too late to drop Apollo in here. :D]
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[O] Done pretending, the end [Ktu/herd?]
HP: 45.5
