An untold number of wolves had passed through the maw since the fall of Ruina, and none had been his family. He had tried to call them back to him once and none had answered, now he felt bitter and annoyed that the family he had pledged his life to had chosen to abandon him. He huffed and swatted a goat’s skull out of his way as he walked the craggy path to the den he had once called home. Most days he traveled alone, leaving Astraios to do as he pleased. He had marked their newly made den in the Soulless Forest as theirs but his son hardly seemed impressed by it. The chill wind of the impending winter rose and raked through his fur before he lowered his head and continued to walk. speaking Thinking You

The wolfess slips quietly across the ridges of the east, her small paws agile enough to keep her from what would certainly be a fatal fall should she lose her footing. There is a certain excitement that comes with climbing here, but it isn't long until Leera veers off onto a rocky path. The further she walks, the stronger the scent of an unfamiliar male becomes. Slowly, the long hairs along her spine raise, but she's not afraid yet -- it's more of a grudging curiosity that pulls her closer. When he appears before her, ahead by several paces, Leera freezes. Her eyes lock on his black-grey silhouette. For a moment, the woman studies him. "My," she crones, the tip of her tail curling. "You are too handsome to be sad." Although her stance wis rigid, her voice is warm and bell-like. He smells like the earth here, like the earth in all of Boreas, so perhaps it's true he knows a bit more than she. "What plagues you?"

The words were familiar and for an instant the memory of a storm in the redbud nook washed over him. “So I’ve been told.” He said, straightening his neck as he looked the woman over. He could tell immediately she was older than he was, but he supposed in spite of everything he had done and accomplished he was still quite young. "What plagues you?" she asked, and the king wondered how much of the truth he was willing to give to the stranger. “The fall of a kingdom.” He responded with just the slightest note of sourness in his voice. “The rise of an empire.” His mind finished although he brushed the casual thought aside. “These lands were once my father’s.” He said, casting his head to the side as he took in the view of Abaven’s valleys below them. Once he had looked at them with the hunger and bloodlust of a vengeful and entitled prince, now however those that had wronged him in the peaceful pack were gone and all that remained were passive wolves of little consequence to him. If he felt like it and if he raised his pack’s numbers to be more formidable he might still march on the pack and claim whatever he desired with the entitlement afforded to a wolf of his stature. “May I ask, to whom I have the pleasure of speaking to?” He asked with the gentility of a king, his head tipping downward slightly as his golden eyes met hers directly. Speech, Thought, You

The woman keeps her eyes trained on him, but she allows herself to settle down. Hips lowered, tail curled around her paws, ears set upright: she listens best like this, and she dips her chin slightly to his tale of a kingdom fallen. "The rise of an empire," she repeats in his tone, an ear twisting gently atop her snowy crown. "What's so horrible about that?" Leera lives and breathes to birth empires, build congregations, and conquer cathedrals; she can't imagine an downside to the creation of a kingdom unless it's been taken from you. Perhaps such is the case with the man. He explains that these lands were once his father's, and she tilts her head with piqued interest. "And whose lands are they now, hm, if not your own?" Her voice is gentle, as if she's talking her way out of something. "You don't seem like the type to throw away a father's legacy." That'd be a shame; if she had been lucky enough to come into a kingdom by blood, she'd fight tooth and claw to keep it. "My name is Leera Vindictus."

He was shocked visibly when the woman seemed to read his mind and speak out loud the exact words he had thought. Was this a trick? Or had he somehow unwittingly gave voice to his private musings, what was more disturbing however was how she chose to play it off as if nothing strange had happened at all. It was deeply unsettling for him but he forced himself to focus on her question. “I suppose it’s more a loss of my father than the loss of his lands.” He explained, attempting to keep his voice casual. “I have my own lands now, my own pack, and my own people. Most of the members of my father’s pack abandoned him. I had to make a legacy of my own” He explained, feeling slightly reassured as he spoke. “I am Tyranis Praetor, the High Lord of Erövrare.” He said and tipped his head respectfully. speaking Thinking You

Remaining in an easy sitting position, Leera watches him as he tells her his tale, tongue sliding across her teeth. Just by the way he speaks, by the way he holds himself, she can tell this wolf is of importance. But her attention isn't snagged until he mentions a people, his people. His. People. Pink eyes flash with something dark and desirous; finally, someone worth meeting. Someone who isn't completely useless. Someone with power. "Erövrare," she repeats, tail curling with feline fluidity. "Yes, I've heard of it." And she has, from that Hannibal she'd met along the coastline that starry night. He gives her his name now, Tyranis, and Leera dips her chin slightly. She's drawn to his aura of strength, lustful for his high lord title, so much so perhaps that she begins to feel the warmth in her cheeks -- but she does little to show this. Instead, she keeps herself still, contemplative as she watches him.   "I'm sorry about your father," she offers easily, but there's hardly any grief that passes her expression. "But better him than you, yes? Look at what you have now. A land, people who crown you... you have everything." speech action

speech Thought

The quick peeking of the woman’s tongue against her cheek raised his ears, and the subtle purr that entered her voice raised the hairs on his neck with charged delight. He had little doubt that she was attracted to him, he was after all an immaculately handsome wolf, crafted by the divine intervention of Ruina’s demons to carry the best traits of his mother and father.

“Well, almost everything.” He said with a suggestive smile. While he had a chosen heir and lands charged with the same magical energy of Mt. Vulcan the one thing his father had that he lacked was a horde of several children, many of which had found him after he had raised his own pack, and one that had surpassed all expectations and come into power twice.

Although his heart belonged to Kai he had a great desire for a legion of his own to fill the ranks of his pack and conquer anyone who dared to stand between him and his family’s rise to greatness.

She doesn't miss his suggestive smirk, nor does she miss the look of lust on his face. Sure, Tyranis is immaculately beautiful, but she is equally so. Aware of this truth, her dark lips melt into a soft, sultry smile and she bats her lashes slowly. She turns her body, displaying the sharpness of her hips and the curve of her spine. Leera does not percieve herself as a lustful creature, but this is her chance. At least, it may be. She's drawn to power, strength, honor, all of such she sees in Tyranis -- even in the brevity of their encounter. "A shame," she replies, but the desire still flickers in her eyes. So, he does not have everything... but if there is something that he wants from her she'd be more than willing to provide. "Come closer, Tyranis. Tell me what you do not have." It's a command now, and she watches him with a sharpness, blood rushing through her veins. speech action

“Well…” He said with feigned wistfulness as he stepped closer to her, very nearly threatening to brush against her but stopping just short of contact. “Although my people are mine there aren’t to many of them. They’re loyal, but I’m afraid we are still small in number.” He said, letting his tail flick to wave the distinct scent of male toward her.

He lowered his head, his hot breath beating against her ear as he whispered to her. “Perhaps you would consider joining my ranks?” He let the suggestion hang between them for her to answer. At such a close proximity he could smell her heat and wondered momentarily if the woman’s desire for him a result of her raging hormones. If she declined joining however he fully intended to take her by force and then take her as he pleased.

speech Thought

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Folding her ears against her crown, Leera watches him through a narrowed, hungry gaze as he moves closer, closer, closer until she can feel the heat of his breath against her fur. His hesitance to touch her makes her nearly growl; impatience runs through her veins along with a thick, carnal urge. But she minds herself well enough, determined to seduce Tyranis, choosing to stay silent as he speaks about his people and how there are not enough of them. She also pauses when he asks if she'd consider joining the Erövrare ranks, and the vaults of her mind tick with thought before she parts her dark lips to speak in a voice barely above a murmur. "Give me a place in Erövrare and, in return, I'll bear your children." After all, it's numbers he needs. That's something her womanhood can offer him. Leera tilts her head at an angle, watching his expression. "But if I take your seed, I will not be tossed aside as a commoner. You'll give me a rank worth negotiating for." That is how the game works -- give and take. There's something they both desire, so why not settle for an old-fashioned trade? Leera runs her tongue across her lips again, watching Tyranis through a seductive haze. She attempts to brush her shoulder against his, wanting him to feel the silkiness of her fur and smell the warm smoke of her skin. "Come on, Tyranis... it's what we both want..." she aims her breathy voice into his ear. speech action

speech Thought

“The scandalous whore.” He thought venomously then balked as he realized she might have heard that thought just as she had before. He dismissed the thought quickly but his mind lingered on the audacity women had to make demands, to an alpha no less, in exchange for siring young. For all he knew she had already mated multiple times and he was simply the most profitable mark for her. Time would tell he supposed but for now his major concern was getting the first of many litters.

He pressed against her with surprising force, locking his arm around her chest to pull her against him. “Very well.” He purred. “I will start you along the path to become an oracle.” He said then nipped playfully at her ear as his hips pressed against hers

-FADE-

It seems, judging by Tyranis' reactions, that her tactics are working. She succumbs to his force willingly, going languid as he locks his shoulder around her and pulls her closer, so close that she smells the pack on his dark violet-smoke fur. His purrs reach her ears, wrapped in the warmth of lust. But there's one thing she holds onto, one thing that catches her attention even more than physical desire does. Oracle... He offers, and she pauses for a moment, ticking the title over in her head. She nods slightly, as much as she can in his grip, narrowed eyes closing softly at last. And the cycle beings again, her mating with another man of power, attempting to claim him as sire to her fourth borns. She returns the brute's playful nip by pressing her teeth into the tender skin above his chest, ears flattening before letting Tyranis seal the deal. -fade to black- speech action