---

It was a surprise, really.

Nobody had expected them to arrive, much less try to claim the throne. Their appearance came so soon after the old monarch's death that some of the less scrupulous clans were spreading rumors of foul play, though everyone knew them to be false. King Hevarrdir had been old and ill when he died, though his death was still sudden enough that the elderly Skydancer hadn't had the time to name an heir or successor.

Which naturally meant that the squabbles over the throne had begun.

Skoll rolled her eyes lazily at the fresh round of protests aimed at the black and yellow Imperials standing on the Senate floor. The mother stood tall and imposing, casting a defiant gaze into the crowd of senators and their entourages. The father stood quietly by, focused on their son who had wound himself between his father's legs. Skoll had to admit that the female Imp was intimidating, maybe even the only thing keeping the room from descending into a bloodbath as it usually did during Plague power squabbles. The blue Guardian smirked at the thought, turning to her trusted advisor with the intention of making a rather rude and sarcastic comment about another senator. The words never left her throat.

Xalic was having a vision.

The gray Guardian's eyes were distant and pale, her breathing slow. Skoll watched the Water Seer with interest, half listening to the Grand Advisor as they mocked the Imperials for thinking Rotriver Cavern would allow outsiders to rule. Skoll snorted, her red eyes narrowing after a particularly low insult. Whoever became the next monarch, she sincerely hoped they got rid of that worthless windbag. Preferably by eating him, but Skoll would settle for an exile.

Slowly, Xalic came back from her vision, blinking her dark blue eyes slowly.
"She will be kind," the gray and gold Guardian whispered softly. "We will know peace."

Skoll did not speak, mulling over her advisor's words. She examined the Imperials again, taking in their rather regal demeanor, the way they held themselves like high-born Light nobles. The mother Imp was already proving to have a seemingly endless reservoir of patience and self-control, while the father seemed supportive, if a little sour over the Grand Advisor's behavior. The Grand Advisor's high-pitched voice cut through Skoll's thoughts.

"Will any clan take these in, so that they may rule?" There was a nasty sneer in his voice, Skoll noted. Of course there was. What else could you expect from a Pearlcatcher?

Silence reigned over the Senate Chamber. Just as expected, no senator from any of Rotriver Cavern's noble clans stepped forward to claim the Imperial family. Skoll didn't need to look to see the Grand Advisor's ugly grin spreading across his beaked face.

She really hated that guy.

"Very well then" Skoll grunted, standing up and taking the few steps to the front of her Senate alcove. "We will claim them"

Her voice carried well, as it always did. The senate Chamber went silent, the Grand Advisor freezing mid-sentence with his mouth agape. The Imperial family peered up at her, surprised. Skoll could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on her, her own entourage staring at her in utter shock. She smiled.

Oh how she loved it when the Senate was surprised.

"I-I'm terribly sorry, but what did you just say?" The Grand Advisor stuttered, finally managing to find his slimy voice.

"I said the Houndstooth Clan will claim them." Skoll repeated, staring down at the Pearlcatcher. Gods, she hated looking at his smug face, but seeing it this shocked and bewildered was just so very satisfying.

The Grand Advisor started stuttering, first turning to the Imperials, then gesturing helplessly whilst looking around the chamber. Whispers and low voices spread among the alcoves as senators and their advisors discussed this turn of events, and if Skoll had well and truly gone mad. Skoll waited patiently, hardly giving the three Imps in the center more than a disinterested glance.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Grand Advisor spoke again "Well then, I suppose that now you have a legitimate claim to the throne. Are there any challengers?" At those words, a cruel smile spread across his face. Skoll didn't understand why he was acting so smug, the mother Imperial was from the Ice territories and could easily tear through the ranks of Plague-born challengers like a hot blade through rotten flesh. Of course, if the Imperial was expecting it to be like the democratic elections in the Light territories...

But the mother Imp seemed prepared for a fight, and she would get one soon. Nobody could deny how her white eyes were blazing with determination, but the Scarred Wasteland was not known for creating cowards. And then, a senator's voice cut through the air.

"Can this wait, Nolentus? We've been in here for almost ten bloody hours! I'm not about to wait ten more as the challengers slaughter each other!"

Murmurs of agreement broke out, and several other senators began voicing their opinion on the topic. The Grand Advisor threw his hands in the air in defeat.

"Very well, very well! We shall meet again tomorrow to resume this awful debate of succession." He cried, and Skoll noted the amount of exasperation in his voice. 'Bloody pompous cabbage,' she thought with disgust, 'not everyone can sit for hours on end. Some of us have work to do.'

The senators began filing out of the chamber, eagerly heading for home. Skoll grunted, turning to her entourage.

"Come along, we need to meet these Imps." She said as she began wandering down to the chamber floor, stopping briefly to chat with several senator friends. Xalic and the two guards followed close behind, still utterly bewildered by the turn of events.

One of the guards paused as he was struck by a sudden thought.

"Matriarch, do we even have room for them?!"

---

I weep for her new range with Artis. It's so friggin huge ;A;

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