Shapely royal legs carried the Klein woman over the sandy dunes. She was at home here, after trying to eke out an existence in her motherland Boreas was almost easy. Deathbelle had become lean, with shorter fur better suited for the desert environment. She had become near nocturnal, traveling by night instead of the sweltering heat of the day.

Decorated paws were placed with care on the shifting sides of the dunes. Mismatched ears perked and her brilliant magenta stare wide as the girl took in her surroundings. Not much lived here. Plants and prey were scarce, but so were wolves. No scents clung to the ever changing sand, and she had no sign of Hannibal at all here. She could continue north though, ever seeking her lost blood.

Deathbelle crested the mighty dune, her form silhouetted by the waxing moon. It would be full in just a few nights. The whole of the desert was laid out before the princess as her eyes turned up to the rich tones of the milky way.

Miach silently moved along the brim of a high dune. The moon casted its cool beams down upon his crimson form which seemed to make his lighter markings pop. Blood red Praetor eyes flowed along the surrounding sand with mild interest. Upon coming back to these forsaken lands the cursed beast hadn't made any friends.. Not one. Perhaps he was truly doomed to live such a dismally boring life. It wasn't as if he was outwardly putrid enough to ward off others.. Or was he so blind to his own self? Depressive thoughts of self doubt and anxiety often consumed his riddled mind especially in a place so barren making him feel even more lonely. The silhouette of a Wolf fell into his crimson view. Hefty pad falls never stopped as he continued to walk in the stranger's direction at a slow saunter. Miach took in her foreign scent as he took a moment to eye her very unique fur pattern. Obsidian was the base and alabaster invaded her form like a divine plague. It was as if a hellish ghoul had been kissed by an angle. Dark and light fought upon her fine locks. The babe's pelt with intriguing enough for the usually very quiet beast to draw closer. A curious look was tossed her way as the Adravendi stopped at a polite seven tail lengths away. "Greetings miss." speech action

Catching Deathbelle off guard was a rarity, especially by those who had no intention of doing so in the first place. As her magenta gaze swept over the sand again she found the tall form appear. His bright ruby eyes glinted in the light of the moon as she caught them resting on her dignified frame. His bright white markings flashed with the white of the moon. The red of his coat not quite diluted enough that Deathbelle couldn't see the resemblance in his fur and that of her own mother’s.

He looked curious as he came to a halt before her, his stance lacking the threat of violence. Her own gaze was sharp, her brows knit tightly as she watched him down her nose. ”Good evening, sir.” She replied with ice clinging to her words. She perked a brow curiously, wondering why he had disturbed her so boldly. ”Deathbelle Klein,” she was polite enough to offer him her name without prompting. ”Do you know of any others by that name?” Since he had approached her she couldn’t help but try and get information from him.

The minx before him was bold and straightforward. As soon as she spoke he could hear the ice freezing each syllable. First a greeting as his own, then a name, and lastly a question. A crimson and ivory brow raised as his bleeding gaze searched her form. She was a unique contrast of black and white. As if a painting half done. Miach stood tall as he thought over the name, Klein. He felt as though it was mildly familiar and then it dawned on him. It was the same name he heard at the battlefield not long ago. A similarly piebald male had announced his name was Hannibal Klein, one of the fighters. The loser, in fact. He narrowed his gaze ever so slightly. "I have heard the name, yes." It had been a few weeks since the challenge and could only assume the scabby albino was off mending his wounds and the big guys bitch by now. Miach wrinkled his nose with distaste as he spoke, "I observed a challenge up north in the battlefield. A male named.. Hannibal Klein, I believe it was, fought for his freedom." The beast paused. "I only remember the name due to the tragedgy surrounding the battle. The drama imprinted it within my mind." Miach stared into her eyes, "The albino lost, but fought well." Now realizing he had been rambling on the male cleared his throat. "Does that help any?" speech action

His posture changed little as she gave him her words freely, but he would pause for a long moment. She waited with patience enough to only flick her alabaster tail a few times before the corroded iron man answered her. Surprisingly in the affirmative, of course she should have had no doubt the majority of wolves should know the Klein heir’s name by now. Though he didn’t offer her complete good news. There was distaste written all over the stranger’s face as he continued on about Hannibal’s current status.

She appreciated the honesty, his bright crimson eyes stared into her own magenta gaze when he told her the result of the dramatic battle. She attempted to hide any emotion that she felt within. That moment she would feel disbelief, but only because the thought of Hannibal losing was inconceivable.

”Yes..” She spoke softly, the earlier chill to her voice lost as he accepted what he said as truth. Belle rewarded his loose tongue with a polite smile. ”May I thank you by name, good sir?” The Klein royal continued just as warmly.