The early summer sun painted the landscape in warm hues, casting a golden glow over Aresenn as he made his way through the familiar terrain of the band's territory. The fresh scent of pine and earth filled his nostrils, reminding him of home. The ache and fatigue in his muscles had finally subsided after his clash with Sephiran, but the scars that had been dredged across his face were already fading. As he strode with purpose, the desire to find Sephiran in the back of his mind, fueled by the information he had gathered during the northern scouting mission, but hadn't been given the opportunity to relay. After the fight, and Absinth's assault, he hadn't felt much like speaking to his friend. However, time had served well in reducing the animosity between them, and there were important things that needed to be discussed.

As Aresenn approached the ocean inlet, his keen eyes caught sight of Sephiran. The tall figure was seated on a boulder at the water's edge, seemingly lost in thought. Aresenn considered hesitating, knowing that he was about to interrupt something. However, his stride never faltered. The information he had was worth breaking the silence. The Praetor casually closed the distance, keeping his attention trained on the other brute for any shift in posture that would indicate a more serious action. .

"Sephiran," Aresenn addressed him, his tone measured and composed. "We need to talk."

"Aresenn Praetor"

Perched atop a boulder with the warmth of the summer sun shining down on his back, Sephiran watched his little pet flying around in the sky. The falcon was hunting in the shallow waters of the inlet, creating a small pile of fish at Sephiran’s feet for his disposal. He hadn’t instructed her to do so- in fact, the falcon was hoping he would allow her to keep her catches, because he wasn’t hungry. He was merely watching her out of boredom, trying to keep his mind busy and drown out the ruminations whirling around in his head. His siblings. His uncle. His cousins. His… friends, Aresenn and Absinth. Aurelia. Even the two-headed monstrosity. His band members were heavy on his mind, as was the progression of his kingdom. There were so many things he needed to do- links in his armor he needed to fortify, resources to collect, bargaining chips to obtain, and- His musings were interrupted by a voice. Aresenn’s voice. We need to talk. His ears flicked upon his skull, gaze shifting as he looked at the male out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t say anything, instead, he released a low, deep rumble of acknowledgment. They hadn’t interacted much since their battle- and Sephiran couldn’t help but wonder if Aresenn’s perception of him had changed.   "Aresenn" & "Sephiran"

Aresenn carefully observed Sephiran's subtle nod, his piercing eyes unflinching as he confidently strode over and positioned himself beside the Sultan- a few strides between them, yet still conversational. The steady cacophony of the ocean waves crashing against the rugged cliffs created a natural background melody for their imminent discussion. The Praetor brute's amber gaze bore into Sephiran, their depths revealing a mix of determination and a certain guardedness. The last encounter between them still lingered in the air, but Aresenn was resolute in addressing the matters at hand. "There is nothing north of the Armada except snow and ice. Desolate tundra," Aresenn stated, echoing the information he had gathered during the northern scouting mission. His tone was factual, devoid of any emotional inflection. "And then the ocean as far as the eye can see."

It was only then did he allow his attention to drift out over the water as well. The gears turned in the back of his mind as he drew his next breath. "If your intention is to move, there isn't much worth inhabiting up there." He finished, on a lower note. Not that he particularly cared what was weighing on Sephiran's mind. If he wanted to move Syndicate to the tundra out of spite, Aresenn would still do so. That's where his loyalty stood.

"Aresenn Praetor"

Tail flicking behind him, with his multi-hued gaze shifted towards Aresenn. Sephiran waited for the male to reveal why he interrupted his musings. The tension between them crackling and intense, as memories of their battle came to his mind. The symphony of their snarls, the sweet taste of Aresenn’s blood, the clashing of their bodies. The memory alone was enough to rouse a shockwave of thrill down his spine, tongue sliding across the roof of his mouth, fighting back the sudden accumulation of saliva. It wasn’t that he wanted to attack Aresenn- not at this moment, at least. But he couldn’t deny the thrill that accompanied their fight. He was a glutton for savagery, after all. He should have known Aresenn still intended to report the findings of his expedition. Truthfully, Sephiran hadn’t thought about it much, given his mind had been consumed by jealousy and contempt. But he was receptive to the information, nonetheless. Storing it into the labyrinth of his mind, as he was considering moving the band. He just didn’t know where to yet. The mention of Armada did cause his pelt to bristle- standing erect primarily around his shoulders, as he turned an ear in Aresenn’s direction. “And what of Armada? And your… princess, you like to fuck.”  His voice became low, venomous and scornful. This was his way of inviting Aresenn to further explain his ties with the Armada- something he hadn’t been able to do, due to the nature of their previous encounter.   "Aresenn" & "Sephiran"

Aresenn locked eyes with Sephiran, their intense gazes meeting in a silent battle of wills. The tension between them was palpable, like electricity coursing through the air. With each flick of Sephiran's tail, Aresenn could feel the emotions churning beneath the surface, a potent mix of anger and resentment. The echoes of their previous ferocious clash lingered in the air, a brooding reminder of the brutal fight they had engaged in not long ago.

Aresenn's response was calm and measured, his voice remaining steady despite the sharp edge to Sephiran's words. "The Armada," he replied firmly, "lies where it has always been, and will likely continue to do so. My allegiance lies with Syndicate above all else. Personal attachments have no influence on my loyalty."

His piercing blue gaze remained unwavering, his features carefully composed as he addressed the mention of the Armada princess, Andromeda. She would be the first one to tell you that she was more than just a princess. But be that as it may, her status among her own family held little regard in the dealings with Sephiran. For the sake of strategy, for the hope of acceptance,  he felt it would be best to resign it. "She holds no title over me. Our interactions are personal matters, and they do not compromise my commitment here." Aresenn's tone carried a firmness that reflected his loyalty to the band. He had used such brash depiction in the face of their fight to try and shock the Saxe brute out of his spiral of aggression. Honestly, he wasn't even sure Sephiran had heard him mention it. Though, it was clear that he had.

"Aresenn Praetor"

Just as he usually did, Aresenn responded to Sephiran’s volatile mood with calculated composure. Though, there was an unyielding undertone in those amber eyes- one that teased Sephiran’s grandiosity, as he wondered what was really going on in Aresenn’s mind. It was easy for him to fall into the trap of persecutory delusions- but he had to remind himself that this man hadn’t betrayed him thus far. And his explanation of his relation with the Armada, was a testament to that. Still, the Saxe still had his doubts- he was an impulsive, jealous, greedy creature, after all. For several moments, Sephiran was silent- but inside his mind, he was replaying every word Aresenn just said, and recalling their interaction with the Armada. How he was attacked by the alpha, and ran out of the market.  Funny, how they had been chased out, and yet Aresenn found a way to pillage the alpha’s daughter- in the most intimate, licentious way. It was behavior he would expect from his uncle Rhazien; perhaps, Aresenn had a knack for manipulation, after all. Turning his gaze away from Aresenn, Sephiran would give a simple response. “Then I’ve underestimated you.” He was more impressed with his ability to connive against their enemies, more than anything. Or perhaps, this was the crimson male’s way of patching the animosity between the two groups. Regardless, Sephiran wanted to know something. “With that being said,” He suddenly pulled himself onto his paws, standing beside Aresenn, wanting to dominate the space between them. "If the Armada were to wage war against us… would you spare her?” Another test of loyalty, in Sephiran’s mind. Because he certainly wouldn’t hesitate to ravage her. "Aresenn" & "Sephiran"

Aresenn's gaze remained steady, unwavering as he met Sephiran's challenging stare. The tension crackled between them, thick and suffocating like a heavy fog settling over the jagged cliffs. Sephiran's voice cut through the air, sharp and calculated, carrying a weighty promise of danger. Aresenn felt the pressure bearing down upon him, a crucial test of his allegiance to Syndicate and an insight into the complex network of loyalties and rivalries that shaped their world. As he stood there, the salty ocean breeze mingling with the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, he knew that this had the potential to be defining moment. His mind raced, calculating the potential outcomes of his response. Would showing mercy to Andromeda be perceived as weakness, an opportunity for the Armada to exploit? Or would it be a strategic move, a way to maintain a delicate balance in their tumultuous relations with the neighboring pack? Aresenn was many things, but didn’t see much purpose in holding back.

Aresenn's voice was calm and measured as he finally spoke, each word carefully chosen to convey his resolve. "If the Armada were to threaten us, I would do everything in my power to protect Syndicate," he stated firmly, his gaze uncompromising. “I would capture her before I saw her killed. However, her fight is her own, and I will not hesitate to take on any of her kin should they prove themselves to be opposition." A sense of conviction reverberated in the depths of his voice as he provided his answer. This wasn't something that he took lightly, and he hoped that it came across that way.

"Aresenn Praetor"

With ears perked forward, Sephiran studied every detail of Aresenn’s demeanor, searching for signs of hesitance or vulnerability; but there were none. The male held an air of confidence, and Sephiran wondered if there was something hiding behind those amber eyes. Perhaps his confidence was a facade. The inquisitive expression alerted Sephiran to the internal musings occurring in his mind, as he debated how to approach his leader’s questioning. But time was ticking, and Sephiran’s patience was a fickle thing. Finally, Aresenn’s voice cut through the silence, each word carefully chosen and delivered with a subtle cadence that revealed his musings. He was strong in his resolve, affirming his loyalty and claiming he would put The Syndicate first. Good. He’d capture the girl before he saw her killed, which is… understandable. Sephiran doesn’t agree, but he feels similarly about Aurelia; he’d rather hide her away than see someone else take what’s his. “I see.” A simple response, one laced with indifference; Aresenn’s pledged his loyalty once more, which satiates Sephiran’s need for affirmation. Nodding, he signals the end of the conversation. He doesn’t have much else to say to Aresenn, unless he has something else on his mind.   -end- "Aresenn" & "Sephiran"