The young male made his way into the unusually warm mountains, pausing as his sun-kissed gaze cast across the surrounding area. He took a moment to survey crevices in which one could be lying in wait for trespassers. Drakan got smacked by the strong aroma of a dominant male having marked the territory when he began his ascent and knew he'd have to remain on alert in case of an ambush from the male's pack. Nevertheless he continued his trek deeper within the territory, lumbering up to the top. With the loss of his Warchief, the battalion, and the disappearance of his stalker-companion, Drakan felt that he had no purpose on this earth but to roam until something or someone sparks his interest.

After taking a few more steps deeper into the territory, he came to a sudden halt. A gust of wind worked it's way through his thick coat as he turned to look down to the lands below. It was a pleasant view to say the least, but why was a pack living here exactly? Drakan's gaze was drawn forward to the peak of the mountain out of curiosity. It was then that he drew his head back, tilting his nostrils to the heavens to release a somber, low call to the pack to alert his presence. Once his entrance song had come to an end, he squared up in preparation for the unknown. Would the pack head send a scout, or would it be the leader himself? Time will tell.

"Speak."

Nothing would stop him from the daily patrol, the nightly patrol, the thing that gave him purpose. There would always be a part of Dimitri that burned to keep his home safe, and this was now his home. They had welcomed him in, allowed him to eat at their table, and taken him to their ranks. Another pack filled with demons, with dark energy, and with all the things that went bump in the night. So it went, in his mind. So it went, in his life. You don't have to be born a demon to return as a demon, and that was his hope. That was his aim. The only thing that he needed was to keep pushing for absolution.

Dimitri was fast. There was nothing that could deny that. The very second a breeze picked up, carrying the scent of a man to his system? Well, that's when he went off. Like a shot, hackles high, a low growl in his chest that would carry to those around him on the wind. Intruder. His heart was pounding, blood rushing in his ears. Sound the alarm. Sound the alarm. All his brain was able to shout was sound the alarm.

Alarm sounded. A howl, a call that there was a fucking intruder. It was only after the wind had called to him that a stranger had arrived, that the man called on his own. There was aggression in Dimitri, an under current of something deeper. Elias should arrive soon enough, and for now the illusionist would greet the stranger. Hackles up high, eyes burning brightly, he moved to the stranger.

The creature that greeted his gaze was taller, heavier, and stood too far over the boundary of the packlands for his liking. "Step back over the border." It's an order from a man that stands with only the strangest posture. Dimitri isn't a creature like the others. No wolf. Never a wolf. Wolf hound. With a keen gaze that's been developed to take down creatures like the one before him, he straightens his posture further. Hackles up along his back, teeth glimmering in the daylight as they show beneath his lips. "What's your business?" Ears pinned to his skull, Dimitri watched carefully, as if staring into the creature to read his soul. There was nothing welcome about a stranger.

As another welcoming breeze swooped down from the mountain top, along with it came a new scent and a shrill cry. A warning to his presence. Taller male stood his ground in waiting as a single long-faced canine made it's appearance. Interesting. Drakan would think to himself, eyeing the creature up and down, his head giving a slight cock to the side. Nostrils wavered, taking in this new male's scent. It was then that he realized it was not the same as the one whom marked the borders.. The sound of the male's voice rang in his ear holes, the fluff atop his head where they should be shuddered as his imaginary ears twitched at the sudden command.

It would appear this was a stronger pack like he hoped... His previous encounters of trespassing onto pack territories was typically ignored or, rather, far too welcoming. These were signs of weakness in his eyes. The fact there were respectable packs still about was a breath of fresh air for the rogue. This also meant he'd need to be a bit more careful when interacting with them. Drakan made a slow, acknowledging blink followed by a respectable bowing of his head to the odd-looking male. Massive paws shuffled beneath him as they carried his mass backwards and closer to the border's edge as instructed.

Drakan would motion to move backwards at the very least a few feet to please the hound. The sparkling whites of the male's teeth catching his sunset-colored gaze as he re-postured himself back into his neutral, laid-back state. His black and silver coat laid smoothly over his build, showing he had no ill intent. As the male's voice chimed again, questioning his reasons for coming into the pack's territory, Drakan found himself looking off towards the lower lands once more. It wasn't that bad of a view from here. The male rolled his shoulders in a form of a shrug in response as he glanced back towards the long-faced male. "I'm a lost soul, a lost cause." His voice, although deep, was gentle and soothing in this moment. "Everything I knew has forsaken me, so I roam." Male went silent once again, drawing in a deep breath of the mountain- Earth, sulfur, and ash. It wasn't terribly unpleasant, but reminded him of the abandoned mines he resided in when he had first joined the battalion. The thought of the old Warchief sent a warm tingling sensation through his body.

"Speech." Thoughts.

He watched the two from the up the mountain, beneath the coverage of the ancient eastern pines. He watched with a wide and watchful red gaze while Dimitri made his demand that the new brute respect their borders and readied himself to act just in case the stranger did not value such boundaries. His hackles along his shoulders prickled, reaching for the branch resting above them as Elias lowered his head, aligning it slowly with his spine. He was ready to bolt to the side of Dimitri and fight with him if needed, but what he witnessed instead was compliance. The stranger took a few steps back and Elias felt his hackles slowly begin to flatten out, then pulled himself from the thick coverage of the pine's branches so that he could make his descent down to the two of them.

His ears barely caught what the man said, though they twisted toward the mentioning of souls. Elias momentarily paused a few feet away from them, his crown lifting as his nostrils flared and he tested the air. He didn't smell any other wolves close, no strong scents on this male that could let Elias come to the conclusion that he was a pack wolf. No, perhaps he really was a roamer. He continued moving once he settled on this idea, stopping at the wolf hound's side.

Mountain king narrowed his gaze as he looked over the features of Drakan, taking in his scars and his build. He reminded him so much already of his dear friend Vale, if only in this regard- they were even the same height. Was this another warrior?

"Perdita anima," his voice was held at a low rumble, respecting the silence of the mountains around them for the time being.

"We were all lost once, but you have found yourself on hallowed lands where souls are claimed and molded." His healthy and inky lips pulled into the slightest smirk, "Lost souls like you seem to be finding us a lot lately. I am Elias Praetor, Apollyon of Ruina- the alpha."

His gaze switched to Dimitri at his side, thick neck turning just slightly so that he could see him fully out of the corners of his stare. He wanted to let him know it was okay to introduce himself and the pack if he so chose at this point, though pride radiated from the king as he felt confident in how the man handled the situation initially. Trespassers were not taken lightly, and Dimitri seemed to understand this. Luckily, this man didn't seem to hold any ill intentions. Elias was aware of the size difference between the two, and from the looks of it.. this stranger didn't hold any qualms about getting into a fight. One could have easily broken out, and yet here he stood.. a respectable distance just as asked. He refocused on Drakan.

"Are you a fighter? A warrior? Hunter, perhaps?" He was curious, already going through his mind on where to place this soul.

The male's thick toes grasped at the earth, the tingling sensation still strong within him. Vibrant gaze shifted to shadowed movement among the mountain side. Suddenly, an unexpected chill of ice ran down his spine, his skin shifting beneath his thick coat to shake it off. Was it the presence of this new male or his past thoughts that caused it though? Nubs atop of his head worked to take in the strange tongue of the new, behemoth of a male. What was that? Drakan glanced momentarily to the long-faced male, seeking a reaction, before falling back to the ashen male as his jaws worked and formed speech he recognized easily.

The large male's baritone rang deep, his words like that of silk to Drakan. So this was the alpha of this strange canine. Of these barren lands. Drakan's gaze was shrouded by dark lids as he lowered his gaze, shoulders rolling as he worked to slightly lower his stature into that of a respectable bow for royalty. Once Elias had questioned his previous role, he'd return to his previous stance- chest out, back straight, and head raised. Male's tongue ran across his lips to draw back excess saliva before he managed to speak. "Drakan Malthael." A larger than usual lower canine grasped at his upper lip during his pause- though it would soon find it's place behind his lips once his next words were spoken. "Once I served in a battalion under a magnificent warchief. I was taken into the clan during adolescence. My warchief and his right hand trained me in both battle and hunting large game. I have lost them, my brothers and sisters of war, to an avalanche that struck many moons ago and I do not believe any of them to have survived."

Another pause fell upon Drakan as he shifted his view away from the two males and looked down towards the valley. There was more to his story, of why a kid ended up among the ranks of a battalion in the first place... However, he vowed to never speak word of his sins against his own flesh and blood to any other. "I have no ties holding me, Apollyon."

"Speech." Thoughts.

The way Drakan announced his name made it cling to Elias' ears, they twitched in response as the Apollyon repeated the syllables of the man's calling within his mind. When it came to his pack, Elias felt very connected to each of the souls that found themselves within. It was the way of their people, their tradition.. once they took the blood oath, they were part of Elias' twisted little family and he would die for them. He took special care in preening each member of that family before they oathed.

His ruby gaze seemed transfixed on the brute's own as he told him stories about his warchief. He stopped short and left Elias with a strange yearning to know more. Truth be told, he'd never been in war that wasn't civil, coming from their own internal affairs. He has a past of his own he'd never talk about, so prying into another man's was something Elias simply would never really do. Vale exposed some of his history to Elias recently on his own accord, perhaps Drakan eventually would too.. but either way, Elias had heard and read enough from this man. The intentions Elias could feel coming from him were something like... gold to him. This was a man of honor with experience of combat buried beneath thick hide, if he really was what he claimed. Elias would not get ahead of himself, but eagerness to show this man what it meant to be in Ruina was overcoming him.

Elias wrapped up his thoughts and offered him a single, stern nod as he thought over everything he said. He believed him, he had no ties and he used to serve a warchief. He repositioned his weight on his paws, squaring his stance as he prepared himself to move back toward the mountains.

"We could use training like that here in Ruina. We claimed these mountains only a season ago, most of my pack members are still learning their purpose. I would like you to join me and the rest of Ruina during their first lesson, if you are interested. You may reside here as a Purgatorian and learn the ways of our people. I am sorry for your loss... here in Ruina, we believe that our fallen are never truly dead. Your Warchief is still with you, as are your brothers and sisters. I will show you how to speak to souls, how to grow in spiritual strength as much as you have grown in your physical strength. Will you stay, Drakan Malthael?"

Drakan's nostrils flared, his chest rising and falling, as he took in slow, deep breaths of the mountain. The male awaited the response of the Apollyon patiently, his gaze softly set on the large male's facial features. He scanned across the scars that littered his form, intrigued by them. It was obvious he, too, had an interesting past. Drakan would never flat out ask, however, and would rather await for Elias to open up to him on his own. He was not the type to pry.

Upon hearing Elias' response to his words, he'd respond with a slight tilt of his head as his mind worked to take in the thought of spiritual connection. Drakan wasn't a non-believer by any means, but he hadn't personally experienced anything spiritual in his lifetime. There were a few wolves he'd encountered in the past that spoke of higher beings, monthly rituals, but he'd never seen anything first hand. Hm. Drakan pondered on the subject momentarily before voicing his reply. "I must admit, Apollyon, that I have no first hand experience with spirits- but I am open minded. The thought of such has caught my interest. I shall stay and learn the ways of Ruina." The black-stained male spoke in confidence as he motioned to move forward into the lands, to follow Elias' lead to the pack he would become a part of. Ruina. Eden?

"Speech." Thoughts.