Ah, Abaven. How was it that umpteen years had passed and it had managed to remain...well, just as bland as it had been all those years ago? Even from a distance he could feel its meh-ness. Perhaps that was what had enabled it to endure. Other packs warred, bickered and eventually splintered, but perhaps the same qualities that made Abaven blend into the forest were what had kept it alive. It's quiet, unobtrusiveness. If that was the case its continued existence was a sad one in his opinion.

Valentine had learned a little bit about the Abraxas since Ashmedai had first told him about them. He cared little for most of their supposed exploits, but the subjugation of Abaven piqued his interest. It was kind of fitting, really, that Abaven, in all its vanilla glory, would fall to the Abraxas so...unspectacularly.

At one time Bass had been an ally of sorts. And Rhythm, a former member of Abaven, had been precious to him. It was for that reason that Valentine had decided to investigate these Abraxas fellows. That and boredom. He could only loll around the old Imperium lands for so long.

Nonchalantly he padded along beside the border. Sooner or later if no one showed up he'd howl to get their attention, but in the meantime, he was just going to poke around and see what became of his nosiness.

Archon had been working on his pack habits. It became more routine to tour the borders. Now with this... companion of sorts checking in with him, Archon had begun to cook up ideas about what plans he might want to execute once Spring arrived. Perhaps they could start working on physical deterrants for the borders? A more secure area for housing herbs? Maybe even a place to allow Abaven to host visitors as they so desired. The possibilities were endless.

Speaking of strangers, a large brute skirted around the other side of the border. A visitor? He wasn't any of the Abraxas members, from what Archon knew. The male was headed his direction, so Archon aimed to reveal himself. He didn't need to say anything yet. He would wait to see how the male reacted to the pack's presence first.

With lackadaisical carelessness Valentine meandered along the border. He occasionally strayed too close; daring someone to object. Let them come. The Abraxas were probably a youthful bunch but if any got lippy with him, he'd kick their ass for the hell of it. Or die trying, but eh, he had to go somehow, right?

After a bit, a large ruddy-colored male emerged from the packland. The male was big, probably close to Angelus' size, but Valentine wasn't concerned. He'd fought scarier looking individuals before. And the male wasn't overly aggressive so that was in his (Archon's) favor. It would be a shame if he got humiliated at his own border.

"So."Valentine made a show of eyeballing the male. He had to be one of them. Destructions all looked the same and this guy didn't have any of their characteristic markings. "You must be one of those Abraxas I've heard so much about."

The male's lack of caring in terms of border proximity seemed less absent minded than an unaware stranger. Was he... testing them? Archon wasn't totally convinced it was any of his problem. He could leave that to Abaven's guards, although by that measure, anyone could come or go as freely as they wished.

The brute looked him up and down and all over. Archon waited. This man posed no threat to him, and many were awestruck in the presence of greatness, so Archon let the male soak it all in before he spoke. He guessed that Archon was an Abraxas, and he nodded. This male had heard of the Abraxas? Good. That was very good news. If loners such as this male had come to know their names, then God would surely be pleased.

"Indeed I am. Have you... met any of my kin, perhaps?"

Unimpressed, the wizened old alpha turned his attention to the packlands. "Nope, can't say I have. I've been away for awhile and just reconnected with my son who informed me that some guy who thinks he was farted out of some god's ass took Abaven over and well," he shrugged nonchalantly, "I had to come see for myself."

His attention returned to Archon. His expression wry, he asked, "So, tell me, Abraxas, what's it like to be farted out a god's ass?" Valentine wasn't after anything in particular. He didn't dislike the Abraxas for what they'd done or anything like that. No, he was simply bored and looking for entertainment. If these Abraxas guys were straight from god's ass then surely they'd be able to entertain him.

The large man went on some vulgar spill about his son and god farts. It was crude enough to cause Archon's nose to twitch a bit.

"I assure you none of the Abraxas were... farted out of anyone's ass," Archon said as flatly as he could. He tried to figure that, perhaps in the man's old age, his mind was possibly deteriorating, causing him to act out like an adolescent pup out of his pack for the first time.

"As for your question, we are like most of you mortals since we are in the same flesh, although we are somewhat more capable in almost every way. We have a unique understanding of the world where we understand our purpose as a whole. Even if one of us fails, it is designed so that many more will fill his place."

Archon spoke smoothly. These words had been running around in his head since he was a pup. He didn't expect someone like this male to understand.

"As it stands, we have taken control of three mortal packs, not just Abaven. Although this one is somewhat of a peaceful takeover, the previous packs were taken by force. As I understand, this is the first time for a singular entity to control this many packs."

Archon was definitely bragging a little, but it was still quite modest compared to most of his family.

"So then, what is it like to be a mortal?"

Archon thought about tacking on, "who is nearly at the end of his meaningless existence," but decided to keep the interaction cordial. Although he wasn't impressed by this man's crass demeanor, he wasn't being outwardly violent and Archon had no reason to provoke him.