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| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | Lady Kenelly visits with Her Grace, Avrenne Esprit Fallon, on a proposal for her vision for HOWL, and what the organization should be. However, Avrenne has another vision for worgen in the Alliance, and how to achieve it. 6k~ words. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
It's an unusually bright day for the near start of autumn, but that doesn't mean it's sunny — the overcast clouds that blanket the sky are rendered into a starker white as the sun shines behind them, and illuminates the gray white stone of the enormous Fallon House into orderly gothic elegance. The coast of Elwynn is calmer today, the sea stretching out behind the house darker with broader choppy waves, neither in threat of high winds and storms, nor of sparkling sunny weather, but something in between.
Outside by the professionally maintained foliage lining the well kept gravel drive, a sharp-faced, black-haired man in his thirties, dressed as a stable groom in House Fallon colors, awaits an arriving horse or carriage. The front door is large, and clearly intended to be opened by butler, who stands ready just before it, an enormous man who — if one had seen them — might wonder if some slightly shorter and smaller vrykul had managed to find employment, with a meticulously ordered manner and appearance, all polite service despite the fact that one might wonder if he has any difficulty crushing a man's skull between his bare hands.
After being forced to leave the Ashewood carriages behind in the evacuation of Gilneas, Lord Ashewood made a point of acquiring a new one upon settling in Stormwind. They proudly showed it off in their arrival to the Aspenwood wedding. However, that fine conveyance is suspiciously absent, leaving young Lady Kenelly to arrive on horseback.
She has dressed as finely as her transportation would reasonably allow, her riding cloak covering a gown of relatively sturdy material, dyed in the deep forest green and muted gold of her house's colors. The trimming is bursting with the colorful embroidered flowers that are her personal signature.
Kenelly offers the groom a polite nod of her head and the reins of her Gilnean mountain horse and approaches the front door, her eyes growing wider and wider as if to take in the looming sight of the gargantuan butler. She gives him the same nod of greeting, her voice cracking slightly as she introduces herself. "Lady Kenelly Ashewood, here to see Her Grace, the Duchess."
"Lady Kenelly," the butler Vane greets her. "You are expected. Her Grace will be with you shortly. May I take your cloak?"
The foyer of the Fallon's house is warm, the wooden parquet floors softened by many rugs, spaced within the center and another designating a seating arrangement by a large portrait displayed prominently to be the first thing a visitor might see, one of the Lady Fallon before she was the Lady Fallon: it's a dark, somber portrait, and it paints the lady of the house in a certain light of grim sternness.
Indeed, Vane is correct; Lady Fallon, by both her punctual nature and her physical stature, is there shortly, descending down the stairs to Kenelly’s left, and into the foyer. She had not been visibly pregnant at the wedding of Lord Bertrand and Lady Priscilla, her dress designed to hide what was thought to be only some lingering baby weight from her last recent pregnancy, but the truth of the matter is now very obvious. She looks to be rather far along, perhaps as much as seven or eight months pregnant, and her dress does not disguise it.
It’s a formal, moderately elaborate gown, some few notches below what she wore to the Gilnean-Allliance Diplomatic outreach, of a navy and silver embroidery, long sleeved and with a sweeping collar that gives room to showcase a necklace of silver and sapphires. Her hair is gathered into an elegant chignon, and her hands form a clasp in front of her as she reaches the foyer floor, her wedding ring of stormsilver, gold, star sapphires, and diamond on display, left hand over right. She bears only a partial resemblance to the woman in the painting, her cheeks fuller and her expression composed but not unhappy.
“Lady Kenelly,” the Duchess says.
Kenelly gratefully hands her cloak over to the butler, also asking him to hold a wooden box she has arrived with. As she enters under the stern gaze of the painting, she inhales deeply in awe. Kenelly's composure isn't enough to disguise her impression of the magnificent house, the artistry and elegance of it quite different from the spartan and simple manor her family had in Gilneas. The presence of the Duchess herself fills the young noblewoman with a sense of pride and admiration. Never one to forget her manners, she greets Avrenne with a deep curtsey. "Your Grace, thank you for receiving me. Your home is beautiful."
She gestures to the box in Vane's hands, "I've brought you something. If there is a place we might set this down before opening it?" The design of the box is such that it does not merely open, but unfolds.
Avrenne dips automatically in a returning curtsey, appropriate for their respective stations.
"Thank you," Her Grace's brows raise, as she regards the box. "If you intend for it to be on display for a purpose, we can place it in the Little Parlor. There is tea and a place we might sit to speak comfortably."
"That sounds lovely, Your Grace. Of course, you could display it if you like. I only wanted to present it on an appropriately stable surface." Lady Kenelly waits to be led to the aforementioned Little Parlor, already feeling a bit lost in the large manor.
Avrenne nods once to Vane, an implicit instruction, as she sweeps forward down the hall from the foyer, into the first door on the left, which leads to a comfortably sized "Little Parlor," a sitting room with two high backed couches centered around a coffee tea table, with enough room that a box could easily be placed, the soft light blues and whites of the room lending a sense of freshness. The light streaming in from the windows has that whiter overcast glow, brightening the room.
Next to the table and the chair closer to the window is an already prepared tea service, with a teapot of gladiolus flowers of orange, red, and gold, and delicate porcelain teacups of orange pansies. There are small sandwiches, cut into small rectangles, of cucumber and butter, smoked salmon and cream cheese, and shrimp with a basil crème fraîche, and a selection of sweet and elegant orange flavored macarons.
Avrenne proceeds to the couch by the window, sitting with a practiced elegance, arranging the folds of her dress to fall correctly, and her hands set on the swell of her belly, awaiting Kenelly's presentation with the air of a queen, the butler Vane waiting for instruction from the lady with the air of, well, a butler.
Kenelly's hand to her collar and the expression on her face express quite plainly how impressed she is with the hors d'oeuvres. It takes her a moment to free herself from the spread's mesmerism. The box itself doesn't take up much space, a little over a cubic foot. When she unlatches the top of it, the upper half splits into two hinged lids, "unfolding" to reveal the contents: a trio of deep crimson roses in a small pot. The roses do not grow from a bush, but from vines close to the soil.
"I have heard you have some expertise and fondness for floriculture. My mother taught me quite a lot about flowers and other plants. These are Gilnean roses; something of a symbol of national pride for my people. My mother managed to rescue some from her own garden before she evacuated. We thought if anyone else could care for them properly this far south, it would be you, Your Grace."
Avrenne's expression betrays only a brief surprise, before it's reorganized back into composed lines. "That is a most generous and meaningful gesture of a gift, Lady Kenelly. Please, convey my deepest appreciation to your mother. House Fallon has been in the process of re-establishing our garden, as we lost most of it when the coast of Elwynn experienced a devastating tidal wave in the wake of the cataclysm. We will only too pleased to be able to add Gilneas' symbol of pride and proof of its people's resilience at our home. Our gardener, Mr. Larabie, and my ward, Otto Renner, will be certain to attend to this matter with all due respect." She turns her attention to Vane, who stands at the ready. "Vane, please inform Mr. Larabie that he has a new precious charge for the garden."
"Very good, Your Grace," Vane says with a quick bow, stepping outside the room to do as the Lady Fallon orders.
Avrenne moves a hand elegantly through the air to gesture to the seating. "Please, have a seat, Lady Kenelly. I expect you are parched after the journey from the city. Tea?" She asks as she sets to the hostess' business of pouring the fragrant quality black tea, brewed reasonably strong, into a porcelain cup. Milk, sugar, and several slices of lemon await use.
"Yes, please, I'd love some." Kenelly takes a seat on the other available couch, turned slightly to face the Duchess. "I don't know how much you or your man know about Gilnean roses, so I should advise that it might be wise to keep them in their own planter. Their roots are firm and complex—they don't always get along well with other plants—and the strength of their roots can make them very difficult to remove. But given space to thrive, they require very little maintenance." With the tea poured, Kenelly adds a generous portion of milk and just a dash of sugar.
"Mm." Avrenne takes her tea black, setting it to one side as she fills a plate with one of each sandwich and a macaron. The plate is brought up to be just above the swell of her belly. She doesn't use it as a shelf, but that may be only due to her having Company. It looks like a very convenient shelf, if one's being honest. "I will be certain that Mr. Larabie is aware of the correct methods and good practices, thank you." The Duchess takes a demure, ladylike bite of a salmon sandwich.
"And if I may ask, what of yourself and your family? I trust you have been finding places for your own roots within foreign soil where you might thrive while we work on the long goal task of freeing your homeland from the grasp of an invasive species that has clearly violated the treaties by which they should have been bound?"
Kenelly takes an extra moment or two to swallow her sip of tea. She hadn't expected her metaphor to be turned around on her so adroitly. "My family? Well…my father is a resilient man. He has never been one to let unexpected adversity unsettle him. He has a way of being firmly rooted wherever he is. But he is already in communication with King Greymane to discuss plans to retake Gilneas." She sets her cup down, folding her hands in her lap. "But I think all of us understand we may be here for quite some time. So, I've been putting my energy toward projects that will, I hope, make our presence more tolerable and beneficial for all. That is why I've come today, in fact; to discuss the HOWL initiative with you. Lord Graves indicated to me that you might be interested in being a part of our civilian outreach."
"Yes," Avrenne confirms, nothing but the slightest movement around her eyes at the acronym, an indication that it's the first time she's heard it. "It is something I have to offer, that I am positioned in such a way as to be able to provide an interesting intersection of the Alliance myself, as a Lordaeron duchess married to a baron of Stormwind who was born into a noble family of Kul Tiras. House Fallon has connections to those in the Alliance that can be of great benefit to expand the circles of Gilneas' people, avoiding isolation while knowing how to respect their roots.
"I have, naturally," she allows, "no experience on the additional circumstances of the worgen curse, but I have some uniquely shared experience as someone who was once a refugee from a country whose land is occupied by the Forsaken, and I don't think that plans for retaking one's country conflicts with integration into one's current soil. After all, Stormwind's people should know that well enough, having done so before, many years ago, when they took shelter in Lordaeron before returning to their natural seat."
Kenelly nods with a sad sigh. "I fear memories can be short, especially when resources are thin. All the more reason we must focus on efforts that can expand those resources. Are you familiar with harvest-witches, Your Grace?"
"I have heard the term, and spoken somewhat to Mr. Clay of your pack, on the general nature, but I know less of the specifics than I would like to," Avrenne says modestly. Then she continues, "The relationship is one of someone connected to the land, similar to a kaldorei druid, with a knowledge of plants therein, as I have been given to understand. It was of this particular gift that I recommended the now-known 'Plaguelands' to the efforts of Gilnean worgens, in addition to the resilience to the plague that the curse offers. Your efforts in Westfall have been useful as well, Lady Kenelly, so Lord Bertand tells me, though I fear that the nature of the displaced of the Kingdom of Stormwind is still a place of volatility that may not offer the best place for additional allocation of limited resources, as Lord Graves has spoken to me of it on his recent visits to the region."
"I agree, about the volatility of Westfall," Kenelly nods with a resigned shrug. "But, I think we should at least have a nominal presence there to help where we can. If nothing else, to demonstrate to the people of the region that we're there to help. If I'm honest, those originally from Westfall remind me a bit of Gilneans. They are self-reliant and suspicious of outsiders. But if they become accustomed to the presence of a handful of harvest-witches, perhaps by the time Westfall is capable of being healed, they will be more accepting of our help.
"In any case, you seem to have a reasonable understanding of harvest-witches. Traditionally, our similarities to druids were largely superficial, but that has changed with the cur-…the change. Most of the worgen among our covens are now training as druids. But even our human sisters have powers that will be immensely valuable in securing future crop yields and reversing damage done by the cataclysm.
"But I'm rambling, forgive me. The efforts of the harvest-witches will be, I think, most effective in winning the hearts of the commonfolk. I imagine someone in your position could be more useful influencing the hearts and minds of the nobility and upper classes. Did you have ideas for the role you might play?"
Avrenne eats the rest of her sandwich as Kenelly speaks, and then picks up her teacup daintily, her expression that same ever present cool composure. "Yes," she says. "As I spoke with Lord Graves, what I have some notable offering is that I am well placed, and well connected, enough so to do as I believe you have seen for yourself not long ago, at Priscilla and Lord Bertrand's wedding. What expertise I may not have myself, I often am in the position of knowing who has such, and which person should best be spoken with to accomplish a goal. My reputation among Society is for my discernment and unsentimental judgement, based on rational thought and sound reasoning." She sips her tea. She certainly seems it, this cool headed Duchess, unsmiling and serious.
"My open affiliation alone with such an organization will do much as what has been done with the W.E.B., another organization that I have been a supporter of from the very night it was conceptualized, here, as a matter of fact, just there across the way in House Fallon's ballroom, by Lord Tyrrell," Avrenne says, her eyes flicking to the wall, as if to look through the material straight to the ballroom. "Furthermore, in these early days, knowing who to speak to and when can be crucial. I assume that you intend to find space and various forms of assistance for your people, as Lord Graves has spoken of, and for those I am well situated to know precisely whom to speak to, and my own voice asking for it likelier to grant any audience such as is needed where another, unknown and not yet placed well in Stormwind Society, might be wrongfully turned away."
Kenelly's smile brightens measurably as the Duchess speaks. As cool as Avrenne is, the younger woman cannot help but read her words as eager enthusiasm. "Precisely why I'm so excited to have you as a part of this initiative. I've come to know your reputation, and I agree with everything you're saying.
"If I may be so bold," Kenelly leans slightly toward the Duchess, "It seems to me that you could be very effective serving on our leadership board. I'm thinking of a sort of council of directors that would guide and make decisions for the organization as a group. I imagined as at least three people: two Gilneans, one changed and one unchanged, and a third to represent the people of Stormwind. I think you would be a natural fit. That is…if you were inclined and it fits into your busy schedule."
"I have at least two questions, if I may," says Avrenne, in a tone that suggests the if I may is nothing but a practiced softening of her directness; she has given herself the permission to ask them. "The first is what extent of active participation do you envision this board having, in regards to both the physical meeting and hands on approach of regular decisions involving the organization?" Oh, these questions come with subsections as well — the sense that this woman is both familiar and adept with contracts comes through. "The second is who have you thus far envisioned on this council of directors in specifics, and have you yet approached these choices to ask of their willingness?"
Oh, there are questions. Of course there are questions. The Duchess should strike no one as the sort of person to enter any situation blindly. "I confess, I don't have all of that sorted out…yet. This is all very new for me. I've never organized anything like this before. I suppose…on some level…" Kenelly's fingertips fidget, dancing across each other, "…I had hoped a more experienced hand would be willing to advise me. Someone…like you." She gives Avrenna a nervous-but-hopeful smile. "I imagine the degree of participation will depend on the level of activity HOWL generates. So…it could fluctuate based on need. But, ideally, once the most fundamental decisions are made and the initiative is running smoothly, it should require less direct oversight.
"As for the others…no, I haven't yet asked anyone. I can stand in for the worgen until we find someone more suitable. Lady Merelda Veyne has come to mind. As for the position for an unchanged Gilnean, I'd considered asking Gwen Armstead, or possibly Lorna Crowley. The former, if you don't know them, was the mayor of Duskhaven and showed excellent leadership before and during the evacuation. The latter might be a bit more controversial, as her father is Lord Darius Crowley; but his insurgency seems to be forgiven by the king now, and he is actively working to free Gilneas from the Forsaken now."
Avrenne listens attentively, but it might be obvious that there is not Approval in her eyes. "Mm." She considers Kenelly with those dark eyes of hers for a long moment, and then begins, the manner of her like a teacher getting out a red pen to edit a worksheet of a pupil. "Lady Kenelly, this organization is meant for worgen, given that you face a challenge unlike what many others will face in the Alliance. To have at its head not one, but a majority of those who are not worgen, is to begin as if to say that worgen cannot be trusted to manage themselves, and sends a message that worgen are to be governed by outside forces. When Lord Tyrrell began the W.E.B. it was directly after a crisis of warlocks, who in their specific case, had grown too insular and formed an echo chamber with members who are subjected to potential corruption at all times, and thus his board is broad with many non-warlocks as well as warlocks, to address that concern. Worgens are not in that same position, and should not be treated so.
"Furthermore, to only have a Gravehowl worgen on the board would be to send an even stronger message than your current chosen name, one based on your own singular pack, and thus will likely alienate other packs, as many would believe that there would be a bias towards favoring the Gravehowl pack above others. And to have any controversial member on the board at its start, given the already uphill climb, would be start with one's hand unnecessarily tied to first justify that person along with one's premise.
"Your board of directors should consist entirely of worgen, and not only them, but you must think of those in such positions as those with a vested interest in worgen well-being as well as authority to act without another's approval, and thus, given what I have witnessed and understood of the nature of packs, those best suited are leaders of packs, which seems to me the most natural course for an organization seeking the betterment of worgen. I would recommend three pack leaders to begin with, though I think five to be a better balanced number. In doing so, and appointing them in such a way, you will then draw in all of their pack members into the beneficial circle of the organization, and with a majority then being not Gravehowl's pack leader, for certainly you must appoint Lord Graves, it will still send the message that this is not an organization made by and for Gravehowl alone.
"Any and all non-worgen should be advisors and consultants only, our advice considered for what we know well, but ultimately we do not share this condition, and thus we cannot speak for the experiences and perspectives of those who live it. There are legitimate reasons why the House of Nobles of Stormwind does not consider for its seats those who do not have land and a title within the Kingdom of Stormwind, but that does not mean that those on the House do not listen to and consider the voices of those beyond the seat, from other human kingdoms and other races both. A worgen organization should be chaired by worgen, and supported by non-worgen as best as we may, our names known and affiliated openly, but not in positions of power to dictate to worgen. One must think in alliances, without loss of one's own independence, a feeling that I am certain many Gilneans and worgen both can understand and respect for a choice of who to follow," Avrenne concludes.
Kenelly wilts under the critique like a dejected student after teacher didn't like her essay. "I didn't think-…no, of course you're right. We need more worgen leadership." The dark cloud that was forming over her quickly evaporates, though. "But, respectfully, I'm not sure I agree that our leadership should be entirely worgen. There is the matter of the unchanged Gilneans, with whom we are inextricably linked and I do intend that HOWL should offer assistance to them. But also…again, respectfully…I think you underestimate the similarities between our position and the warlocks'.
"The truth is that we still don't know the extent of our risk for another kind of corruption. The night elves' ritual freed us from our feral state, but we still feel those intense instincts. There is no certainty that we won't return to our former savagery with the wrong sort of influences. Most importantly, the non-worgen of the Alliance may have such fears about us, which is precisely why HOWL is needed."
Kenelly breathes through a pregnant pause, sitting more upright as she braces herself to challenge the Duchess's opinion. "However, where I disagree the most is with the notion of appointing pack leaders to the board. I think this will send entirely the wrong message about our mission. HOWL is not a leadership organization, but rather a foundation of support. We provide assistance from the bottom, not from the top. We must not be perceived as an attempt to create any sort of 'council of packs'. At best, that would be seen as presumptuous among our own people; at worst, it could be seen as a treasonous usurpation of King Greymane's authority."
"What I have seen, Lady Kenelly, is that each time I have spoken with any worgen of the middle of a pack, they have always said the same thing that in the matter of their pack, they will need to speak with their pack leader. What you are proposing of installing someone of that position is that each time a decision will need to be made for that pack, they will need to go to their leader. Not only does it create an unnecessary middleman of delay, but ultimately, the pack leader will decide. It would be the same as if you were to create a board of those who were not head of their House to a position, and then have each of them still need the permission of the Head to approve or disapprove of a measure. You will, regardless of appointment, always end back up at the pack leader," Avrenne says. "You cannot provide assistance from the bottom, when that bottom is already structured to have a top. And if you intend such an organization to be so regardless in defiance of pack structure, then you will not be effective.
"How you will avoid unification of various packs and also serving those worgen packs as a group is a contradiction. Either you are working with worgen as a whole and group, or you are not. If all you intend is for H.O.W.L. to be managed by and supported with Gravehowl, then you are thinking too narrow in scope, and thus are not going to affect overall change. As it is, it already seems you have a strong bias for your own pack.
"As for any sort of concerns involving King Greymane's authority, I have been speaking of worgen as a group and subset therein, of which there are those who are not of Gilnean citizenship, and here you are speaking of the necessity to include more Gilneans unchanged and in fact considering one who is the daughter of the man who led a rebellion against the king," Avrenne says, her voice cold as ice. "I would recommend that you consider that a unification of similarly afflicted people and the creation of a group intended to be 'for Gilneans,' are two very different things, and while the first would have my support, the second would not."
Kenelly's brow slowly tenses as the Duchess speaks. Only the tightness of her lips prevents an outright frown. "I say this with the utmost admiration for your experience, Your Grace…but you are not a worgen. I am. I believe I have a better understanding of pack dynamics than you do. I've spent years running with a pack, and unlike most worgen, I now have the benefit of having been in two separate packs to see how they are similar and different.
"Yes, we seek our pack leader's approval when making major decisions. But bear in mind we are also very new to packs in their current form. Those dynamics are still developing, and while our wolf instincts tell us to defer to our pack leader in all things, we are half human as well, and humans are much more independent than wolves. Our pack leaders must learn to trust us to make decisions that are in the best interest of the pack and of all worgen. HOWL is an opportunity to nurture that kind of trust.
"What I propose is not in defiance of pack structure," Kenelly shakes her head firmly, "but in deference to it. HOWL must not become some sort of 'overpack'. That will certainly cause us to be perceived as trying to establish law and leadership, rather than support."
"I see," Avrenne says, her expression that cold composure. "And if I were to speak to your pack leader, Lord Graves, you believe he would be in agreement with you on this?"
Kenelly nods firmly, even enthusiastically. "I do. I did approach him with my proposition to ensure I would not be crossing any lines. While Lord Graves expressed certain concerns, which have been addressed, he seemed supportive of the need for such an organization and trusted me to see it through."
"Interesting. When I spoke to him, I heard him speak of certain concerns that I do not think have been addressed, including the over-broad approach you seem to be taking, of overstepping into the creation of a Gilnean support for refugees, rather than a focused worgen group meant to address the greatest primary concern of how to manage support the very real bias facing your kind, and how best to unite worgen into seeing yourselves as all banded together for this common need.
"You see, Lady Kenelly, without the support of other packs joining in, you run a risk of beginning to pit packs against each other, rather than ensuring them into a whole of those with similar needs and goals. What you have proposed to me is an organization and plan that favors Gravehowl over all others, with no firm course on how to gather others into this organization, and already your pack will be seen as having set itself apart, with the agreement with Cobalt Company. Some other packs will naturally think of you as a rival for Alliance acceptance, and I am hearing nothing on how you intend to address that," Avrenne says, picking up her tea to sip at it.
Kenelly's frown deepens, more visibly displaying her disappointment as Avrenne springs her conversational trap. "If Lord Graves' concerns ran so deep, I imagine he would express them to me. I have assured him that we are starting with a few, focused projects with the hope of expanding HOWL's support in the future. But just because I project certain ideas into the future does not mean I shouldn't bear them in mind in the present, as I lay the foundations of what is to come.
"Furthermore, I must protest to your suggestion that my plans favor the Gravehowl Pack." The young woman's tone takes on a hint of sternness. "In what way? I have not limited HOWL's support to the Gravehowls, nor offered my own pack any special privileges. We are working on reaching out to other packs, but you must understand that without an organization like HOWL to create a functioning network between those packs, communication is slow. That is something we will hopefully remedy. As you and Lord Graves have pointed out, we cannot do everything at once. We are building steadily, which is why we need the support of established pillars of the community like yourself."
"I look to your proposal, Lady Kenelly, for my suggestion that you have begun with a certain impression. The original plan you spoke of to me of three people, only one of whom is a worgen, and of your own pack, in leadership, and that you are not willing to have an all worgen leadership of more than your own pack. The name you have chosen, which is a name that borders on a sort of cheekiness that I am not certain behooves the seriousness of the situation, references your own pack. I hear you speak of small projects, and yet I do not hear how these projects have incorporated any outside your own pack as of yet, as reaching out to other packs has not seemed to be a priority over beginning, and so I have been given the very impression that I think others will take as well, regardless of your intentions," Avrenne says, cold and unemotionally.
"I agree that we all see the necessity of starting small, and considering long term goals as a place to reach but not grab first and foremost. I don't agree, however, that looking at this issue as a Gilnean concern is useful or helpful, and what I hear from you is that you consider it to be one, in your choice of direction, and of your unwillingness to consider worgen issues as being an independent concern that needs focus.
"What I see as useful, as someone who has been in both the position of a refugee in Stormwind myself, and one who has spoken to several worgen outside of your own pack, as one chosen by the Kingdom of Stormwind as part of such diplomatic outreach, is an organization that shows that worgen can be fully trusted in positions of power, even on a smaller level, and uniting packs together to not isolate or see themselves as needing to work for their own benefit because they think they have no choice, and an organization created from the start an environment for those voices to be heard equally, and think of themselves as equally important, regardless of the beginning impetus. I don't see this reflected in your proposal at present, Lady Kenelly, and I do see that you have an inflexible decision on the matter at present," Avrenne says, setting her teacup down, and readying her dress to stand.
"Thus, I am afraid I cannot support your proposal of an organization as you describe it. Should you revise those points, to my satisfaction, I shall be pleased to offer my support. Until such time, I wish you very well in your endeavors, such as they may be."
Kenelly closes her eyes for a moment, letting out her frustration in a slow, quiet sigh. "That is unfortunate. I worry that in speaking to others before speaking to me, you have been given some very inaccurate notions about what I'm trying to accomplish. If I may be so bold, you seem to have many preconceptions, and it is not I showing inflexibility; for it seems that regardless of what I say, you are convinced you have greater knowledge not only of my people, but of my own intentions. The proposal you cannot support is as you describe it, Your Grace. But what you describe is not HOWL, and bears little resemblance to my goals or actions."
She rises from her seat, her face tense; a mask to contain her emotions and maintain decorum. "Thank you for meeting with me, Your Grace. It's been an honor and a privilege." She bobs a small curtsey, but waits for some indication that she is given leave to go.
Avrenne rises with a practiced elegance. "I agree that we seem to have different goals in mind, Lady Kenelly. I offer only my own opinions of what I see, and what I think others will see, based on my knowledge of them. I have indeed spoken to others who sought me out first, and that I have already prior connections to, which might be useful for consideration in the future should you find yourself in need of connections. I see a worthy cause in improving worgen relations with the Alliance, and I intend to be certain that this is accomplished. "
As if summoned, the butler, Vane, appears at the door, holding it open for Kenelly and the Duchess. "Lady Kenelly. I wish you well on your endeavors with HOWL and your own goals. You'll excuse me, I have other business to attend to," Avrenne says, as she sweeps forward out of the room.