Setekh lounged in the shadowed space below a tree. His molten orbs glinting sharply as they swept across the clearing in utter anticipation. He had chosen this spot deliberately, its seclusion a perfect stage for their encounters. His claws traced idle patterns into the soft soil, his thoughts a rhythm all their own.

Time bends so cruelly, stretching like the shadows themselves. he thought to himself. She will come. She always comes.

Setekh stretched out luxuriously, his lean body shifting into an almost feline posture—a stretch so languid it resembled a housecat. His tail swept in an arc behind him, stirring the fallen leaves up into a tizzy. He tilted his head, catching a faint rustle, his ears flicking to capture the sound as he rose slowly.

He shifted his gaze toward the path she would take, his piercing eyes narrowing. Every detail becomes orchestrated—his posture, the angle of his gaze, the stillness of his breath—all calculated to command attention when she arrived.

"speaking" | voices

Sericea's paws tapped impatiently against the soft forest floor as she led Iskandor deeper into the Red Forest. The towering redwoods loomed above them, their ancient trunks muffling all sound save for the occasional crunch of fallen leaves beneath their feet. Sericea's tail swished with barely contained excitement as she continued to guide Iskandor through the dimly lit forest. She moved with a graceful, yet restless energy, her steps purposeful and quick. Every so often, she would pause dramatically, her ears twitching as if catching some distant sound, before resuming their journey with renewed vigor.

"Isn't this exciting?" Sericea purred, turning to flash Iskandor a dazzling smile. Her green eyes sparkled with mischief as she studied his face, searching for any sign of hesitation. "We're getting close now, I can feel it." She edged closer to Iskandor, her fur nearly brushing against his as she led him around a massive fallen log. Her movements were fluid, almost predatory, as she maintained a proximity that was both intimate and slightly unsettling. "You're going to love my grandfather," she continued, her voice sweet as honey. "He's the wisest, most powerful being I've ever met. And he'll be so pleased to meet you."

Sericea's ears perked forward as she caught a familiar scent on the breeze. Her grandfather was near. She fought to contain her excitement, not wanting to alarm Iskandor. Instead, she turned to him with a playful grin, her tail swishing behind her. "Grandfather?" she called out, her voice a mix of eagerness and feigned casualness. "I've brought someone to meet you."

"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"

Iskandor's blue eyes flicked between the towering redwoods and Sericea's oh so eager form, his expression calm; vigilant. He matched her quick pace with effortless strides, seeing as they differed so much in size. Despite her excitement, his own demeanor remained composed, though some bit of curiosity brightened his gaze as he looked at her.

"Yes, exciting." the boy rumbled, a half smile tugging at the corners of his lips. As the girl edged closer, her red fur brushing against his blue-slate pelt, Iskandor tilted his head,craning to watch her with a subdued intensity. Her closeness was noted but met with an air of control, his posture carefully composed. He really… didn’t like it. The way she was almost leaning on him. "This grandfather of yours," he murmured, gaze as thoughtful as it was curious, his paws moving for personal space. "If he's as you say, I imagine he'll be a fascinating encounter."

And then she spoke, greeting a man he hadn’t even seen or smelled yet. Iskandor was rife with uncertainty, his brows furrowing as he met the older white wolf’s visage.



"Speech"

Moving quietly through the underbrush, Zagan was slipping in and out of the shadows, using the shifting light to keep himself hidden from Sericea and her little friend. He’d met the boy before- they ran into each other in the deep, icy labyrinth beneath the S.S Antiox. At the time, he seemed friendly and fairly naive- and yet here he was, walking almost hand-in-hand with his Sericea.

He’d been following them since the Marble Wash, tracking their scents and staying out of view as they traveled into the Red Forest. He was still in earshot, and could hear Sericea talking about her grandfather. The wisest, most powerful being. Zagan felt a jolt of jealousy shoot through him- but it quickly turned into confusion. Who was this grandfather?

Stopping at the edge of the clearing, Zagan crouched down in the shadows, blending into his surroundings. He kept his eyes on Sericea- his object of desire- watching her with an almost predatory gaze. As if someone was going to come and steal her away. The thought brought on a visceral reaction- his muscles growing taught beneath his pelt, his jaw clenching as he fought back the urge to abandon his post and force Seri to go home.

"Zagan Saxe"

Setekh’s posture was a casual one, regal in its nonchalance, even as he reclined back unto his haunches. She approached, that delicate frame shadowed by the figure of a young boy she beckoned forward with calm excitement. Setekh’s lips curled into a slow, devilish smile.

“Ah, my lovely Sericea,” he purred, drawing out her name as if tasting her. “What have you delivered to me this time?” His gaze locked onto the boy, predatory gleam unmistakable within those firely orbs. “I trust you chose wisely.”

Before she could respond, his ears flicked, catching her rustle of foliage at the edge of the clearing. A hum of amusement escaped him, his tail swaying behind him like a cat's. Without turning, his voice carried, smooth and yet taunting. It was clear. His granddaughter had a stalker. Ah, youth. Setekh smirked, his brows quirking at Sericea, his tongue lapping out to taste the anxiety in the air. It was tangy. “And… you, my shadow watcher... Why linger in the darkness? Come forward, unless you mean to entertain me with your cowardice.”

Setekh’s eyes sharpened, his ivory smile widening as he gestured with a slow paw. Towards Zagan's hiding spot. “Closer, child. Don’t be shy. You’ve already betrayed yourself; there’s no use hiding now.”




"speaking" | voices

Sericea's excitement evaporated in an instant, replaced by a cold dread that settled in the pit of her stomach. Her ears flattened against her skull as she whirled around, green eyes wide with shock and fear. Zagan. He had followed them. Her mind raced, searching for an explanation, an excuse, anything to mitigate the trouble she knew was coming.

"I... I didn't know … I swear-" she stammered nearly inaudibly, her usual grace faltering as she took a step back, bumping into Iskandor. She turned to her grandfather, her posture a mix of submission and defiance. She cut herself off, realizing her mistake too late. In her panic, she made a quick attempt to recover. “Grandfather, I brought Iskandor to meet you. I told him you give the best lessons.” Sericea's eyes darted between Setekh and the spot where Zagan lurked, her tail twitching nervously. She forced a smile, trying to regain her composure. “That is my brother, Zagan.”

"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"

Unease prickled at the edge of his mind. There was something… off about this situation. Why was her grandfather a loner, when she and her siblings and parents were part of the Syndicate? He wanted to trust in his new friend, his mother would’ve wanted him to be smart though. But his pride? He stepped forward slightly, positioning himself subtly between Sericea and the elder, his blue eyes steady as they met the brutes fiery ones. Maybe… maybe he had made a mistake in following her here.

Iskandor kept his cool as Sericea bumped into him, sensing her panic. His eyes flicked between her and the ivory male, taking in the tension and trying to wrap his head around it. He tilted his skull just a touch, still trying to gauge Sericea’s stammered explanation. She introduced him, and he thought it best to simply nod his head in agreement.

The boy shifted his stance, positioning himself in a way that suggested readiness without aggression, and then his gaze shifted as he looked toward this brother of hers. Low and behold, it was the boy he’d met in the strange ice cave! Zagan.


"Speech"

The proclaimed grandfather that stepped out of the shadows to greet Sericea was not what he expected. He seemed more like a presence than a shape- a ghastly white figure that was unsettlingly vague- like a mirage on the edge of reality. His presence caused a shift in the atmosphere, an uneasy stillness filling the air. It was palpable to the young Saxe- it made the hair along his nape stand on end.

Shit, he was caught. After greeting Sericea and Iskandor, the male called out, beckoning him out of the shadows. Zagan hesitated for a split second- not out of fear or apprehension- but he was weighing his options. Did he attack straight out the gate? Did he pretend to be cordial, to gather information? Did he call for Absinth, Aresenn, or hell, even Sephiran? Too many options, with only a few seconds to decide.

And that lecherous, predatory look in the male’s eyes was familiar to Zagan- the way he peered down at Seri- as if she was a puppet. A toy. And the way she crumbled beneath his intense gaze- how she stammered over her words, her eyes wide with shock and fear- it raised many questions in Zagan’s mind. Even Iskandor could feel it- he was gravitating closer to Seri- almost protectively. As if he had any right to protect her. It was enough to draw Zagan out of the shadows. He had to deal with this himself.

As he moved froward, his eyes never left Seri. He shot her a cold, sharp, and silent command- if I tell you to run, you run. The tension in the air pulled tighter as he closed in, stopping beside Seri to peer down at the slightly smaller, but older, grandfather. His body brushed lightly against Seri- a subtle notion that was a quiet declaration of defiance. “Grandfather?” He questions, his tail flicking behind his titanous frame. “Why haven’t I met you before.” A large ear flicked in Seri’s direction- it was a question for the both of them.

"Zagan Saxe"