Sol shot Thorne a knowing, razor-sharp, absolutely terrifying smirk. It was a look that said, I know exactly what you are doing, and I don't care. Thorne's poisonous smile faltered instantly. The Elder took a subconscious half-step back, suddenly feeling like he was the prey.
"It would be incredibly rude of me to refuse my birthright," Sol continued smoothly, turning away from the sweating Elder to face the Chief. "I can't just stay here to hide behind wooden walls."
"Or... or you can just wait!" Veylara suggested frantically, her tactical mind racing for a compromise, seeing that his insistence was unbreakable. "Stay in the village! We will mobilize the hunting parties. I will personally lead our strongest, most elite warriors into the deep Orrath. We will track a high level beast, weaken it, and bring it back to the Grove for you to anchor safely!"
