Xairo trotted through the Red Forest, his paws crunching softly on the carpet of fallen leaves and moss. The towering redwoods loomed above him, their ancient trunks so massive that three grown wolves could not have reached around them with paws linked. In the hushed dimness beneath the dense canopy, Xairo felt small and exposed, an unusual sensation.

He lifted his muzzle and inhaled deeply, sorting through the earthy medley of scents - damp soil, decaying leaves, the musky traces of small creatures sheltering in the undergrowth. There was no hint of other wolves- or at least, the best he could tell. It seemed that he was alone out here.

Spotting a fallen log up ahead, Xairo bounded forward, muscles bunching beneath his dark blue fur. He leaped atop it and paraded along the rotting trunk, head and tail held high. One day, the whole pack would look up to him like this, in awe and deference. He just needed a chance to prove himself.

"Xairo Saxe"

Iskandor had been honing his knife-fighting techniques against the bark of the redwoods, each strike reverberating through his jaws with an ache that bordered on satisfying-but-still-painful. His focus was sharp, movements clean, until a shift in the air caught his attention—a scent, a faint sound. Instinctively, he paused, tucking the knife into the snug fold of his wrist wrap as he turned toward the disturbance.

His approach was quiet, yet marked by a low huff as his piercing blue eyes scanned the clearing. They landed on a figure perched atop a fallen log—a boy around his age, fur a striking shade of blue, tail and head held high. The sight sparked a strange curiosity in Iskandor, his mind already picking apart the stranger's stance. What did it mean?

"Hello," he greeted, his voice calm and measured as he stepped further into the open. Though this boy wasn’t the strangest Iskandor had encountered, he still couldn’t suppress the intrigue simmering beneath his otherwise composed demeanor.

"Speech"

Xairo whipped around at the sound of the voice, nearly losing his footing on the slick log. He hadn't scented another wolf approaching - how could he have let his guard down so carelessly? Narrowing his emerald eyes, Xairo studied the newcomer, a grey scale boy with electric markings- around the same age as himself.

The stranger's calm demeanor irked Xairo. He wasn't used to being caught off guard, and the fact that this kid had managed to sneak up on him was deeply unsettling. Xairo lifted his chin, determined to regain the upper hand. "Who are you?" he demanded, not bothering to return the greeting. He remained perched atop the log, using the extra height to his advantage. "I haven't seen you around here before." Granted, Xairo hadn’t ever really been around this particular area much himself. But the other guy didn’t need to know that.

"Xairo Saxe"

Iskandor met the other boy’s demand with a raised brow, his blue gaze steady on the stranger who now seemed overly tense, looking down at him with unfriendly eyes. Iska let the silence stretch, not out of hesitation, but as a counter to the other's obvious attempt at dominance. "Iskandor Fatalis of Armada." Iskandor replied smoothly, voice an effortless blend of confidence becoming of a prince—and his own cool composure. Or at least, that was what he was being taught to do. He took a step closer, unhurried, exposing himself to the scrutiny of the high vs low ground. "This isn’t my first time here, so we probably just missed each other before."

He inclined his head slightly, trying to maintain civility between him and the on-edge boy. Iska’s gaze met the azure boy’s eyes, curiosity entering his voice as he attempted to push the conversation in a more amicable direction. "And you are?" Every new soul met was another page of knowledge in his book, that much was a fact.



"Speech"

Xairo held Iskandor's gaze, his tail lashing behind him. The other boy's calm, almost regal demeanor grated on his nerves. Who did this guy think he was, anyway? "Xairo," he said at last, the name coming out as more of a growl. He didn't offer a surname or pack affiliation. Let Iskandor wonder. Xairo hopped down from the log, leaves crunching under his paws as he landed. He began to circle the other boy slowly, green eyes glinting.

"Armada, huh?" Xairo flicked an ear dismissively. "Never heard of it. Must not be that important." It was a lie, of course. Everyone knew of the Armada pack. But Xairo wasn't about to let on that he was impressed.

"Xairo Saxe"

His eyes followed the newly named Xairo’s movements without turning his head, again countering that dominating presence with his calm outward demeanor. The dismissal of Armada though? Iskandor’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. A spark entering his eyes—a challenge. A need to show this stranger just who he was messing with. Only he didn’t take the bait, didn’t rise to the insult. “Perhaps you’d do well to learn more about the world around you, then. Ignorance is not bliss—it's a failure on your part.” The Fatalis prince’s lips quivered with the jab he’d unleashed, his eyes crinkling at the edges as impulse began to win out over his aloofness.

"Speech"

Xairo felt his hackles rise at Iskandor's jab, a low growl rumbling in his throat. How dare this pompous jerk lecture him? Xairo stopped his circling and stepped closer, deliberately invading the other boy's space. "You think you're so smart, huh? So worldly and important?" He curled his lip, baring sharp white fangs. "I bet you've never even been in a real fight. Probably have servants to do everything for you."

Xairo's blood was heating up, adrenaline beginning to sing through his veins. Part of him hoped the other kid would rise to the bait. It had been too long since he'd had a good brawl. His muscles tensed in anticipation.

"Xairo Saxe"

Iskandor’s eyes narrowed as Xairo stepped into his space, the vocal challenge hitting its mark within the stranger. His lips pulled back slightly, his breath catching as his composure crackedjust a bit more. Like a damn with too much water behind it. “Smart? Yes, actually.” he retorted, not giving the ‘important and worldly’ comment the time of day. But as for his personal space being invaded? That required action.

Iska pushed forward, a bold step—head held high. His chest brushed against Xairo’s, lips curling into a half-smile. The thrill of confrontation blazed through his bright eyes, his heart thrumming in his chest. Maybe the other boy would feel the thud thud thud if he was paying attention. “Look. If you’re so eager to test me, then stop talking and do it. Or should I bring out my ‘servants’ to push you down into the dirt?” You know, because he didn’t know a thing about getting his paws dirty, right?

"Speech"

Xairo's eyes flashed with savage glee as Iskandor stepped forward to meet his challenge- the thrill of anticipation as Iskandor pressed against his chest flooding his system- the other boy's breath hot on his muzzle. So the kid had some backbone after all. Despite the taunting and teasing that had led up to this moment, Xairo couldn't help but feel a twinge of respect for Iskandor's bravery in standing up to him. But it didn't matter - Xairo was determined to put him in his place once and for all. "I don't need an invitation," Xairo snarled. Without warning, he lunged forward, aiming to bowl Iskandor over with a powerful shoulder check.

Xairo vs Iskandor for Dominance
Round: 1/3
Age: Under One Year
Size: Titan
Build: Balanced
Offensive Battle Accessory: Leather armor
Defensive Battle Accessory: Ram horn headpiece
Companion 1: Annellated Coral Snake, Female - Battle
Companion 2: Raven, Female - Battle
Mutation 1: Split pupils - perception
Mutation 2: Saber fangs - offensive
Mutation 3: Ram horns - Defensive
Skills: Master Fighter & Expert Intellectual

"Xairo Saxe"

Iskandor’s lips curled ever more, the half-smile on his lips breaking into a full, wide grin as Xairo lunged. The blur of movement came with a force Iskandor barely had time to counter—barely. A jolt shot through him as the shoulder check connected, his claws digging down against the dirt. But he didn’t go down. He'd fought Cit like this before, how could he go down to another boy so much smaller than his behemoth of a brother?

He straightened almost immediately, pushing back with his own shoulder to reclaim the space, his eyes blazing like twin ice storms. Heart pounding, he held his ground, his muscles taut beneath his coat. The thrill of the fight just about made his blood sing, and pushed away any thought of retreat or de escalation. It was a fight between young brutes, sure—but more than that it was about his pride and proving he deserved to keep it. Iskandor whipped his skull back, aiming to headbutt Xairo right on the forehead while he braced for the impact with his rear legs.

"Speech"

Iskandor vs Xairo for Dominance
Round 1/3
Age: Under 1
Size: Titan
Build: Balanced
Offensive Battle Accessory: Wrist blades
Defensive Battle Accessory: Fur shoulder mantle
Companion 1: Possum, Female - Battle
Companion 2: Rave, Male - Battle
Mutation 1: Cat Claws - Offensive
Mutation 2: Reinforced Bones - Defensive
Mutation 3: Thick Skin - Defensive
Skills: Expert Fighter & Beginner Intellectual

Xairo grunted as Iskandor absorbed the force of his charge and retaliated with a hard shove of his own. Xairo's paws scrabbled against the leaf litter as he fought to maintain his balance. Before he could fully regain his footing, Iskandor's skull cracked against his own in a dizzying headbutt. But in an effort to try to deflect some of the impact away from his head, he leaned into the charge with his horns. Pain exploded behind Xairo's eyes. He staggered back, shaking his head to clear it. But he was quick to recover.

A metallic taste filled his mouth - he must have bitten his tongue. Xairo spat a glob of bloody saliva onto the forest floor, his lips curling back from his fangs in a vicious snarl. Iskandor was tougher than he looked. Good. Xairo liked a challenge.

Adrenaline surged through his veins, sharpening his senses and quickening his movements. Xairo began to circle Iskandor again, green eyes blazing, looking for an opening. His earlier arrogance had faded, replaced by a cold, calculated focus. When he spotted his chance, Xairo darted in low and fast, aiming to catch Iskandor behind the foreleg and yank him off balance.

Xairo vs Iskandor for Dominance
Round: 2/3
Age: Under One Year
Size: Titan
Build: Balanced
Offensive Battle Accessory: Leather armor
Defensive Battle Accessory: Ram horn headpiece
Companion 1: Annellated Coral Snake, Female - Battle
Companion 2: Raven, Female - Battle
Mutation 1: Split pupils - perception
Mutation 2: Saber fangs - offensive
Mutation 3: Ram horns - Defensive
Skills: Master Fighter & Expert Intellectual

"Xairo Saxe"