her footfalls are brisk and steady, the gait of one dripping in arrogance - one who has never known what it is to be denied, to be told ‘no.’ today she is particularly smug, a satisfied smile lingering perpetually at the corners of her mouth and flashing through the venom-bright recesses of her gaze. occasionally she throws a glance over her shoulder, letting it rake across her companion with a proprietary leer, allowing herself to look simply because she can, because every part of them is hers to do with as she pleases, and it sends a thrill down her spine to remind them of it. “we’ve reached the Polar Sound,” Yarra announces, a hint of cruel amusement in her voice. “my family resides around here; you may very well meet them soon.” oh, to imagine Seph’s face when he witnesses the beast she has procured for them… “would you like that, hm?” she prods, sketching a mocking brow. “would you like to meet the rest of the Saxe clan?” it is obvious she expects an answer, gaze swinging from one face to the next, lapping up their reactions with sadistic glee. "Speech"

Life had taken an unexpected turn for the twins, Sol and Khonsu. They had moved from a life constrained by religious faith to one bound by a more tangible and threatening force. Though they weren't physically shackled, their new reality was just as confining; led by a wolf who's cruelty was more piercing than any physical chain. She held power over them not through force, but by possession. By keeping what the twins held most dear, she had forced their obedience.

In their culture, reincarnation wasn't just a belief; it was as natural and inevitable as the changing of seasons. But now, their mother's soul was in jeopardy, trapped in her ashes with little hope of rebirth. In this harsh, northern land, the birth of new pups - and thus the chance for their mother's spirit to find a new body - was a rarity. Yarra, acting as judge and jury both, had the power to sentence their beloved mother to eternal limbo.

Sol, naive and too open-hearted, had shared their traditions with this stranger, not foreseeing the consequences. Now, as they walked through the snow, his head hung. Each step felt heavy, burdened with the weight of his mistake, the guilt overwhelming. He had hardly spoken a word since they'd returned to Boreas.

Their journey took them into the stark and icy landscape of the northern polar sound. The environment was as unforgiving as their unfortunate situation, a constant reminder of the grim future that Sol, in his innocence, had unwittingly chosen for them. "Stop." Khonsu whispered to his brother, sensing his twins self-loathing.

The woman's words drew Sol's ears to pin against his skull, his head bowing lower if such a thing was even possible. "If that is what you wish." The bolder male spoke, lifting his head in quiet dignity, seeking to draw her sweeping gaze away from his softer brother.  If there was anything to be greatful for, it was for the thickness of their coat, as it allowed Khonsu to meet the woman's gaze without shrinking from the cold.

Sol & Khonsu

Khonsu's response scrapes along her ear, drawing her full attention to that magenta gaze. from what she's observed he's definitely the more out-spoken of the pair, seeming to act as a kind of shield for his more timid brother. how...delicious. to have one's weakness literally attached to them, destined to a life for speaking up for them when they themselves cannot...Yarra shudders to imagine the inconveniences it would cause. now, though...it just makes things easier for her. more fun. "that's not how you address me, is it?" she prompts, stepping closer to them. she sticks her face directly into Khonsu's, relishing in his helplessness, his inability to resist her. "remember what we discussed, my darlings?" she glances from one face to the other, smirking openly. "you're to refer to me as mistress." there's a warning edge to her words, a promise of violence should her command go unheeded. it's taken a while, but she's managed to wear the pair down in some small way, slowly chipping at their defiance until she can begin moulding them into her desired image. the perfect servant. there's certainly a long way to go, but for now, she's happy to remind them of their slip-ups with minimal discipline - she's a merciful master, after all. and when she becomes the centre of their worlds, when she is the only thing they can see behind their closed eyelids, they will thank her for this mercy. they will worship her. "Speech"

Khonsu's heart pounded hard as Yarra's face loomed inches from his own, her presence overwhelming, suffocating. He could feel her breath, cold and sharp, against his muzzle. His eyes, a stark magenta, held a flicker of defiance that was quickly overshadowed by fear.

Beside him, Sol shifted uneasily, his eyes darting between his brother and their captor. He seemed smaller somehow, diminished in the shadow of her towering presence. Khonsu could sense his brother's anxiety, a silent plea for protection that had always been his to answer.

Yarra's words, laced with a thinly veiled threat, echoed in Khonsu's ears. He knew the cost of defiance, yet, every fiber of his being resisted the title she demanded. 'Mistress' - a word that signified their bondage, their submission to her will. Khonsu's gaze shifted out the corner of his eye from Yarra to Sol, a silent conversation passing between them. It was a look that spoke of survival, of the sacrifices they must endure for each other. As a barely audible whimper peeled from Sol's muzzle, Khonsu swallowed his pride.

"Yes, Mistress." he uttered, the word like ash in his mouth. "I apologize. It's been a long trip, we are weary. We won't forget again, right?" Taking the opportunity to avert his gaze from the woman without being disrespectful, Khonsu turned toward his brother. Sol nodded meekly in reply.

Sol & Khonsu

satisfaction washes over her, sharp and wickedly sweet, catching between her teeth like the bones of some small prey animal. she longs to bite down, to savour the blood as it bathes her tongue. “good boys,” she croons, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks with a wet smack. she wants them to remember these moments, these instances of kindness between the violence and misery. they’ll come to crave it, to work for these tiny fragments of affection if only for the relief it provides them. “we’re all weary,” she continues, stepping back to affect an exaggerated yawn. “me most of all. why, i couldn’t possibly lift another paw. so you’ll hunt for me, darlings, and set up a shelter. understood?” she sits back and surveys them with a quirked brow, admiring their muscled frames and handsome faces. it mightn’t do anything for her, but she can see them becoming…potential donors to the Saxe family, when the time is right. they’ll need the numbers, after all. "Speech"

One after the other, their mistress bestowed upon them a wet kiss to the cheek. Each man's ears pulled back in turn, though the movement it was the only similarity to exist in their nonverbal response. Sol flinched as her muzzle neared, fear drawing the small muscles in his cheeks to twitch in panic as they were touched. It was a brief reaction, as no pain followed. His relieved exhale filled the space she had created as Yarra pulled away, moving to his brother. Khonsu remained stoic, his sharp gaze unflinching. "Yes, mistress." He dipped his head as she pulled away, concealing the scornful curl of his lip.

The twins turned, the hourglass necklace around their neck swaying gently as they moved. It was clear to both men that in any other captivity situation, the request would have been a blessing. A perfect opportunity to run, hide, and break the chains that bound them. Sol's head ducked, looking beneath his brother's back toward Yarra's, wishing desperately that it could be as simple as just... not coming back.

The wintry taiga offered little in terms of material to construct any sort of shelter with, but it did have the unique feature of a towering cliff bordering both sides of the valley. Khonsu's gaze swept the sheer rock face, searching carefully for a suitable slope of stone that could serve as a windbreak. There were plenty to choose from, but they decided eventually upon the closest outcropping to their seated mistress. The last thing they needed was to be accused of trying to tire her further. "If you'll come with us." Khonsu requested.

A fire would be the first priority - a tool for cooking, and an offer of warmth - one the twins were well equipped to provide. With nimble paws they manipulated the hourglass pendant that hung between them, revealing a hidden compartment from which they carefully extracted a small, dried bird's nest. The fire-revering wolves always kept the means for ignition close at paw. Skillfully, they sculpted a base from scavenged twigs, nestling the nest within as a bed for the soon-to-be kindled warmth.

The Fresnel lens upon the hourglass was the key to igniting the fire. Positioning themselves so that the lens could catch sunlight at the right angle, they focused the intense beam of light onto the pile to be lit. The lens amplified the sun's rays slowly, creating a small but growing point of heat at the heart of the tinder. "What meal does our m-m-mistress crave?" Sol inquired, breaking the silence. Khonsu, focused on the task, flicked an ear at his twin's query, but kept his gaze fixed on the lens's work. Patience and precision finally paid off as the nest caught, bringing forth a lively dance of warmth and light.


Sol & Khonsu

her boys fall into line quite well, once she reminds them she means business. it’s a little irksome that she has to keep reminding them of that fact, even after all this time - but no matter, they’re learning. soon, though, they’ll learn that the consequences will become more dire should they continue resisting her. she does not welcome reluctance or hesitation in her toys, and they should come to know this sooner rather than later. despite this little hiccup, however, they quickly prove themselves useful. Yarra allows them to lead her to their chosen shelter, humming a low note of approval. it satisfies her to know that she doesn’t have to chain them to be obeyed, that they won’t stray from her side even if, physically, there’s nothing to stop them from doing so. this is a kind of power that is so delicious it makes her mouth water, sends an electric thrill down her spine. once the fire has been fixed, Yarra settles delicately before it and closes her eyes, grinning to herself as the warmth washes over her and chases off the worst of the cold. peeling open her lids, she flicks a glance at the twins, amusement dripping from her voice. “such a shame you boys can’t enjoy it with me,” she sighs, pouting with faux sympathy. “but alas, the prey won’t catch itself.” at their question she clicks her tongue, taking a moment to think. really, she knows what she craves - to rend the flesh from their hides and taste the blood beneath, to let it bathe her tongue as she carves her mark into them. mine, forever mine. she’s nothing if not possessive, after all. “surprise me,” she says finally, lifting an expectant brow. “and don’t take too long about it.” oh, what a fun game. she imagines them anxiously seeking out prey, unsure what will earn them a punishment, unsure if there’s even a right answer to this request. wrought with panic, she’s curious to see just what her pets will do in the face of such vague instruction. "Speech"

"Of course, Mistress." Sol & Khonsu murmured in unison, their voices subdued, obedient. They bowed their heads, acknowledging her command. Without another word they turned, coldness returning to their faces as they grew further and further from the warmth of the flame. Swiftly they slipped away into the embrace of the forest, set on finding something worthwhile to present to their mistress.

-timeskip as they hunt here-

The forest released them from its darkened depths just as the sun began to rise, the evidence of their ordeal displayed by the rabbit carried in Khonsu's jaws and the wound on Sol's flank. They laid the kill down first, a but it was a small offering compared to the set of bear claws that followed. Unexpectedly, the twins had encountered competition for the corpse.

"We apologize for the delay, Mistress," Khonsu spoke, head held high despite the pain and fatigue. The bear claws were presented with reverence and pride, one that was reserved for the rare occasions when the twins exceeded even their own expectations. "And we bring more than just a meal." Sol added, nudging the formidable claws forward, a peace offering and a prize meant to appease her.

The injury they bore was not hidden; deep, ragged furrows still bled where the bear's claws had torn through the flesh of Sol's flank. They endured it quietly, as both a mark of their failure to return unscathed and the lengths they would go to fulfill their mistress' whims. The pain was evident only in the tension of their stance, the subtle wince with each breath. Meeting her gaze, Sol pled for her understanding, awaited Yarra's judgment with a yet-to-be-expressed whine upon his lips. Was this sufficient? What would come next in this cruel game they were bound to forever play?

Sol & Khonsu

Yarra's expression is an impenetrable mask as she regards her Sidis, eyes slowly roving over first the kill, then the claws...and finally the injury. for a moment she takes it all in with a stoic silence, allowing time to stretch, taut and tremulous, between them. it's a wicked little game, keeping her boys suspended on the edge of apprehension and fear, delighting in their uncertainty. finally, her brows scrunch with greatly exaggerated concern, tone so sickly sweet it turns every word mocking. "oh, my poor darlings - who did this to you?" she parts their fur with a propriety hand to better examine the wound, clearly demonstrating the entitlement she feels to their body. they may never deny her, for every inch of them is hers to break and mend as she sees fit. "are you in much pain?" she gives a low tut and moves away, gesturing to the dying fire she's kept alive all night. "we better treat that before it gets infected. go lie down, hm?" her tone brokers no argument as she slips out of the cave. when she returns, it is with a dripping clump of moss clutched between her jaws. "here, allow me," she instructs; even when offering help her voice is commanding. Yarra begins to mop up the blood and clean the wound with her soaking bundle, utilising it as a sponge of sorts. "i'm no healer," she muses, placing the moss to the side as she examines her work, "but this will do for now." she reveals a strip of bark she'd also collected, on the underside of which is a pouch of sticky cobweb. gathering it between her toes, she takes care to smear it across Kol's flank to create a makeshift bandage. it lacks the technique of an experienced healer and will need to be changed a few times, but for now it will suffice. probably. honestly, the idea of infection doesn't bother her too much - enduring discomfort in service of one's master is the mark of a competent Sidi, in her pinion - but it'd be inconvenient if they became ill. now that she's completed her task, she looks eagerly into the twins' faces to gauge their reactions. how confused they must be at their mistress's sudden kindness, and the thought thrills her. they will come to understand and perhaps even accept her volatile nature, the flashes of care interspersed with heartless cruelty. and once they've tasted just how accommodating a mistress Yarra can be, they will crave her kindness, will do almost anything to win it. at least, this is her goal. "you may eat your share of the kill," Yarra begins, a wicked gleam entering her eye - "but only one of you shall. the other will go hungry." how will they choose among themselves? will they grow resentful of each other? the very idea makes her giddy. "well, boys: who will it be?" "Speech"