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Name: Shivering Aspen
Personality: Widely seen as a gentle, soft-spoken soul outside of his duties, Aspen is doing his best to keep up with the whirlwind of change currently exploding around him. He's getting on in years and has seen much, but he's also grown somewhat set in his ways--handling everything has taken something of a toll on him, as he's slow to adjust to new things, but considering the fact that he has no other choice, he's making do with what he has. Aspen is notable for being remarkably level-headed and patient, and he often serves as a calming presence during times of stress; at the moment, he's doing everything he can to keep himself calm, but is putting most of his effort toward maintaining the peace within the Court. As long as the important things are managed first, he's sure he can handle the rest on his own time.

While Aspen is every bit the polite, respectful wolf that everyone knows him for, there's more to him than meets the eye. The Trolls' presence changed him, forging a hard-edged shell of steel underneath the pleasant, pretty veneer of his old self that he's maintained. Aspen was once something of a pacifist, dedicated to preserving life in a way that would be best for the earth and the Court as well--after living under Troll rule and experiencing those atrocities, however, his views have changed. He's been forced to confront the harsh reality of outright war, emerging blood-splattered and broken from the carnage, but with a new, horrifying light in his eyes. Aspen never wanted to be like this. In the wake of so many deaths due to the Royal Guard's blatant incompetence, however, he had no other choice.

Now that he's been appointed Marshal, those under his leadership will find a very different wolf from the poised Warden they may have been familiar with before. He will not--cannot--accept any kind of failure from the Guard again, and is hellbent on eradicating the same weakness that cost so many lives before. There is no room for error in his eyes, and any slip-ups will be swiftly dealt with.
Previous rank held: Warden.
How did you escape?:
-Managed to eliminate your assailant before they had a chance to eliminate you.

Aspen was a protector. He knew full well that his line of duty would, inevitably, lead to him being forced to take a life--there was no way around it, and certainly not after the Trolls began to show their faces. As they encroached further and further into his home, Aspen was forced to sit idly by and watch, unable to properly intervene lest broader conflict break out; he almost got into a few truly heinous fights by trying to put a stop to what he saw, but it was never enough to change the course of it all.
It did, however, earn him a few enemies. One of which saw fit to hunt him down when the fighting began, determined to take his pound of flesh in return for the hassle this pathetic Elf had caused him.

By the earth, by the trees, he had never wanted this. He'd tried to move quickly, protecting other Elves and guiding them to relative safety--he'd made several runs back into their home, picking up stragglers and survivors whenever possible, but he couldn't keep going forever. When he was almost too tired to move, still willingly running into the line of fire all the same, he was attacked.
He knew his assailant's face. He knew exactly what was happening. Those golden eyes still haunt his nightmares, burning like coals, the gleam catching the deep scars etched into flesh and fur.

By then, Aspen had little energy left in him. The only thing in his favor was that his attacker was much younger, much less experienced--almost foolhardy, even. The fight itself was drawn out--the Troll wanted to play with his food first, getting his fill of blood before he finished this old upstart off for good.
Aspen doesn't want to remember the next few minutes. It felt like an eternity, stretching on and on forever--each flash of teeth, each heavy thud of flesh and bone colliding, all dragging on. Aspen thought this would be the end, truly. He would die here in service to his people, and that would be it.
But the Troll kept talking, taunting him. Telling him all of what they'd do to the rest of the Elves when they found them, from each whelp to the Elders themselves--it would be a bloodbath, a massacre, unstoppable and unending until the Elves were nothing more than a red staid on the earth to be forgotten and washed away.

He couldn't. He couldn't, couldn't, couldn't let that happen.
So he lunged, with no breath left in his lungs and everything to lose. He threw himself against the Troll again and again, knowing that every second he lasted was a second he bought for the groups he'd rescued.
Somehow, with his teeth buried in the Troll's throat and burning hot lifeblood streaming down his face, he survived. Aspen himself died that day, but his body survived, and forged himself anew from the pieces.
He staggered back to safety, wheezing, bloody froth flecking his muzzle. At first, it was hard to recognize him, but as realization dawned, there was only silence.

Based on who you are and how you escaped, how do you feel about being appointed Marshal? Do you feel you have earned this title? Do you feel ashamed?:
Marshal is not his title to own. It was given to him, claimed that he'd earned it, but to Aspen, it feels...hollow. He was not a warrior, not in the true sense of the word--but then again, maybe he was now, with a kill to his name and experience on his shoulders. But in the same way, it was not his place to question this kind of decision--now more than ever, the Court needed to be unified and stable, and doubting such things would do no one any good.
He accepts it, but from time to time, he wonders if he's really the Marshal the Court needs. When those shadows of uncertainty come flickering by, he resolves to make himself what the Court needs.

How do you feel about the rogues filling out your ranks? As Marshal, you will be overseeing them. Is this an exciting time? Are you spiteful, or welcoming?:
As long as they can hold their own, Aspen cares little for where they came from. They have to be prepared to carry out their duties above and beyond what they may think is required of them, and similarly, prepared to handle a harsh taskmaster--he has no patience for weakness in his ranks, and will root it out with extreme prejudice. Rogues actually are held to slightly lower standards than the members of the Court, however; it's not really enough to make much of a difference in the long run, but they're not Elves, after all. How can he expect the same from them?

9/10; 3:44 pm CST: corrected some small grammer errors

Name: Cobralily (another name for the carnivorous Californian pitcher plant)
Personality:  Cobralily is likely the most honest she-wolf one would ever meet. She doesn't believe in telling lies, or even omitting the truth, even if it would spare one's feelings. She understands that the truth isn't always pleasant but at the same time she firmly believes that it is the only real way to peace.

A pacifist at heart, she doesn't believe in creating war, but has no qualms ending one if it is in her power. She holds so much love and respect for the world around that sometimes she forgets not everyone thinks the same as the Elves, or her for that matter. The Trolls were a grave reminder of just that.

Since then, Cobralily is much more wary of newcomers, though she understands the need for them at the moment. She doesn't trust easily and will likely look to the other members of The Court when she is confused or uncertain. After all, she is still young and having been so violently thrusted into her position, still unsure of her own status.

What/who do you miss the most from your past?: There was a place, not far from their home, that Cobralily used to go when her visions, or life in general, became too much. Perhaps it had once been a den or perhaps it was simply a miracle of erosion, but there was a small cavern carved into the center of the earth. It was surrounded by lush greenery and hundreds of flowers, dancing in rainbowed waves with the soft breeze that seemed to always be present. Her favourite blooms were always the white ones. Any time she would visit, she'd pluck a single white bloom near the entrance before she descended into the darkness of the open earth.

She would come here to think or to calm herself when the visions struck a nerve. There had been many times she'd run here, on the verge of panic attacks, just to sort through her thoughts. She even recalled having spent the night in the cavern once, by accident of course. Oh, how her family had worried.

Describe what you've seen in one of your visions: Howling, unnatural and ear shattering, swept across the land. A great buck, broad chested and graying about his muzzle, lifted his head. His nostrils flared, scenting the air around him. The buck's throat constricted on a grunt, his pupils dilating as the trees began to sway. Strong, old bark groaned against the winds that whipped through the woods. The earth trembled and the buck reared onto his hind legs, spinning about with such force his hooves dug deep into the soft dirt beneath him.

The sound of wood snapping echoed through the area, battling a distant boom of thunder for dominance in the thick air. The howling had become unbearable and as the buck fled, so did the entire forest.

Ropes of muscle flexed with each galloping stride, heavy pants spilled from his muzzle. But it was all in vain. Dark eyes glance behind him only to observe a great gray wall. It came towards him faster than any predator he'd ever known, gobbling up trees and shubbery alike. His legs moved faster, ears pinned across his skull, but again, it was in vain.

The rotating vortex crept closer still, screaming its rage, destroying everything in its path. The buck was old and weary, and when his hooves began to lift from the dirt, a screech like none he'd ever made before got sucked into the great winds along with him.

What's your take on the Elders allowing rogues to fill out the ranks? Are you pleased, excited, apprehensive? Do you like outsiders, or loathe them after all that you've experienced?: Despite her previous encounter with strangers, Cobralily is actually very excited to expand the pack again. She trusts the judgement of the Wardens and Elders and will do her best to help guide these rogues through their traditions and culture if called upon. She openly hopes for the best to come of this newest decision and offers support for those having a bit of trouble acclimating to their new way of life. Her favourite newcomers are the pups, though. She enjoys the little ones and is often found in a circle of them retelling some of her more... eccentric visions or stories she remembers from her own youth.

In winning this wolf, you agree to keep her within the Elven pack (unless they disband) and will do your best to stay true to her given 'history' ?: Yes!

Username: KasaiLoki
Name of Female: Grinning Twilight
Personality: Reserved, Quiet, slightly apprehensive
Relationship with male: Close friend, potentially will lead to more
Inner monologue on 'feelings' toward male: "I still can't believe he went from this wild pup, to...a genuine male?"
Recall a situation/circumstance that makes you think of male!:
She could remember it clearly, it was a gray day. If anything, that should have foreshadowed what was to come. She awoke next to her love that morning, ready to begin the day just as they normal would.

However, their routine would be greatly amiss. No one had seen the Trolls attack, and in the countless deaths, there he lay, covered in blood. Her love, her life, gone with much of the pack. A darkness crept in her mind, a void sucking out what will she had. But darkness wasn't forever. Even in the darkest of times, a line, as miniscule as one could muster, would shine.

Luckily for her, the light, however small it was, was in the form of her friend, Somber Dawn. They had quite a childhood, from an arrangement of mates, to fights, to eventually becoming close friends. It was this friendship she admired, and with it, the light she held onto to make it through the hell on earth that the pack had experienced.

It was a light she knew would never go out. A light of the friendship that grew stronger and stronger. Where it would lead, one didn’t know, but only time would be able to tell.

What was your vote in regards to the rogues being permitted to join, and how do you feel about strangers filling the ranks?: With the recent attack, Grinning Twilight voted against rogues joining. As much as she knew more wolves meant more protection, she is not willing to open her heart to someone not of elvish blood.

Username: RozeyBear
Name of Male: Somber Dawn
Personality:  Somber Dawn is... true to his name. He's a somber male, most of the time, very serious in nearly every aspect of his life. He takes pride in his pack, his culture and work. While most would assume him quiet, he's really very outspoken, with a voice that commands attention.
Relationship with female: old friend, unrequited love...
Inner monologue on 'feelings' toward female: "Honestly, she's the only reason I'm still going."
Recall a situation/circumstance that makes you think of female!: He'd been there when her mate had died. He'd tried to help but ultimately that didn't matter.

Losing so many of his pack had hurt, but the look on her face when she'd laid eyes upon the carnage haunts his dreams. He'd seen a similar look just before their arrange union was broken off. Just before she'd found her mate. And now she lost what she'd run from him to find?

He couldn't let her lose herself in her mourning. He made a promise to himself that he would stay strong for her. Because she needed him now like she hadn't before.
What was your vote in regards to the rogues being permitted to join, and how do you feel about strangers filling the ranks?: Somber Dawn voted to let them join. He understands the dangers that lie in that choice, but he also knows the dangers of losing their entire culture weigh heavy in the air without them.