Large violet paws so dark they were almost an inky black crunched through the dense snowfall of the north, crushing the fresh powder beneath his weight. The sizable brute carved a path through the snow for his smaller companion to follow through, leading the way by shape nares in the direction of familiar scents—scents he hadn't smelled in a long time. Not since they'd set out to establish their own domain. And ah, would you look at that, it appears they had succeeded! Azrael tilted his head and smiled as his pale sage green eyes fell upon the skeletons strewn across the obvious scent border that marked the clan he had been seeking for some time now. He studied the corpses like they were a macabre art installation, humming pensively to himself while he trudged along past them as if they were entirely commonplace decoration. It would appear his cousin's taste in decor hadn't changed much in the time since he'd departed from Saffron. Some things never changed...

"Come along," he called back to the earth and cream fae in tow behind him, purring baritones almost singing with his simple yet direct command. Across his back, the brute carried a simple rucksack that hung off the side of his body, the bag containing all of his worldly possessions that meant anything to him, which were few and far between. He was a wolf of simple means. All he took with him from his old home were the things he deemed irreplaceable. They were mostly his tools of his trade; everything else he could acquire anew here. Well, besides the lovely lady following at his heels, that was. She had been an unexpected surprise toy to add to his collection. Drawing closer to the borders proper, the violet brute came to a halt and sniffed at the ground. Yes, this was definitely the place. The land positively reeked of Saxe. How delightful! With a crooked grin, the brute lifted his muzzle and issued a short call for the new Sultan.

While they waited, the brute turned to the fae—his Sidi. Those green eyes pierced into her ruby red jewels with a severity to emphasize his words to her. "Follow in silence if you value your skin. Speak when spoken to, not a moment before. And for both our sakes, try to not be a total brat to our new Sultan." He flashed his teeth in a menacing grin—a warning issued only once. "I don't want my new toy broken this soon." With his advice passed on, the brute turned forward and stood straight, waiting for the familiar form of Sephiran to appear to them. An eager smile laid easy on his lips, the calm and confident demeanor of a wolf who knew what he had to offer and was ready to begin his work.

Azrael Saxe was home.

"Azrael"

Mireia followed along in Azreal's footsteps, prancing lightly in the gap in the snow his large frame created for her. Of all the places his search would lead them, did it have to be the frigid north? There were numerous–countless even–lovely, temperate, regions on this continent and it's southern counterpart, but noooo, they just had to come up to the heavy snows of the north! And what was worse it looked like what he had been searching for so throughly was indeed right here in this frigid temperatures. Just her luck... She glanced across the snow at the strewn bones and corpses with a raised brow. How delightful...

She had slowed her steps a bit as she took in her surroundings, not realizing she was falling behind until he told her to come along with his sing-song sort of way of speaking. "¡Ya voy, mi querido bastardo!" she sang back to him in response with a chuckle before bounding to make up ground until she was following along at his heels once more. Eventually they seemed to reach the edge of this claimed land and Azreal let out a call for the leader of this merry band. Internally she groaned at the fact that this meant she'd be living here, but she supposed this was a small price to pay for him ending Vaso's miserable existence.

She stepped to the side so that she could see past him, but still stayed behind him all the same. As much as she tested her limits and pushed his buttons whenever she got the chance there were some things that were simply ingrained into her from her life as a slave. She met his gaze as he looked back at her with his not so subtle threats, a slight smirk pulling at her lips when he instructed her to not be a brat to their new Sultan. "I'll be on my best behavior," she promised with a purr to her voice. She was interested to see what kind of brute could hold sway and lordship over a male like Azreal so with her own curiosity she waited, peering across the northern land ahead of them.

"Mireia"

When the summon rang out at the border, Sephiran was already nearby. Fortifying the scent of his brood, leaving some fresher decor scattered along the border, making sure rotting entrails were strewn across the pines with the assistance of his falcon. His panther helped too, having used his knife to dismember the corpses into finer pieces. She even made sure to leave some of the macabre decor on higher ground, so it was easier to see from the borders. Pleased with their work, Sephiran started a routine patrol of his borders.

Snowfall steadily drifted from the heavens, immersing the forest in an all-consuming, fresh blanket of ivory. The sudden call at his border changed his course, pulling him from his thoughts and guiding him in his cousin’s direction. Azrael. A wolf he hasn’t seen in quite some time. Even his memories of his cousin were faint, given they’d spent much of their time interacting through routine training, rather than pleasantries. Still, he recognized the male’s voice, and was forming assumptions as he walked. Why was he here, he wondered? To take his throne? Join his ranks? Deliver a message from his father? So many possibilities- and they all made Sephiran’s mind run wild.

As he emerges from the treeline, there is a palpable shift in the atmosphere- an aura of arrogance and control radiating off his frame, as he approaches his cousin without hesitation. Each movement is deliberate, purposeful, and demands unwavering attention- his presence suffocating, as his eyes rove across them both and consume them whole. “Azrael“ He rumbles, eyeing the tiny woman behind his cousin more… closely. She’s appealing to the eye, no doubt. But what was she doing with Azrael?

Stopping at a conversational distance, he begins his questioning. "Have you come to serve me?” Straight to the point, Sephiran wastes no time deciphering Azrael’s reason for approaching his borders. And of course, his paranoia always has something to say. Perhaps he's come for your throne. If he’s come to challenge for Sephiran's crown, then so be it- Sephiran would meet greet him with a vicious assault, ready to kill, if it meant defending his deserved place as Sultan. And if he were here to align himself with Sephiran’s cause, to serve as his tooth and claw in whatever purists he deemed worthy…. He’d hear his cousin out.

"Speech"

Code by Sea

Mireia promised to be on her best behavior for their first meeting with Sephiran as Sultan, but somehow he doubted she even knew what good behavior was. She smirked and purred her words, but stayed just behind him as he had instructed, so perhaps she was actually listening somewhat. Good; that would keep them both alive longer. There was only a short wait after his call went out before the sound of heavy footfalls through the fresh snow could be heard getting closer. Azrael's ears perked, sage green optics turned in the direction of the noise. And then there was Sephiran in all his glory, ostentatious and haughty as ever. Some things never changed... While the brute approached them, Azrael stretched out his forepaws on the ground and lowered his front half in a bow before the Sultan, that cocksure smile never leaving his lips all the while. Az remained down, tail lowered along with his body, only rising again once Sephiran addressed him.

"Sultan Sephiran," he began as he stood, teeth flashing in a delighted smile to see his cousin. "Congratulations on your successful conquest!" Sephiran was curt and straight to the point, as he had always been. No reason to beat around the bush. Had he come to serve Sephiran? "Indubitably! Just as my father served yours." Diomedes was Apollyon's inquisitor back in Saffron; the Sultan's means of extracting absolute truth and loyalty and nothing less. That smile took on a more wickedly eager manner, his green eyes alive with a mirth and a keenness to begin his work here. "Like him, I've come to offer my skills to you. Saffron is secure and my work was stagnant there, lacking focus. But under your reign... well, nothing is more valuable to a new Sultan than finding what he wants." Whether it was dredging the minds of others to find whatever he wanted or physically tracking down someone, Azrael had learned all of his sire's tricks of the trade. He was an accomplished tracker and interrogator. Any treachery or disloyalty would be sniffed and snuffed out swiftly by the pair of them together.

Azrael noticed how Sephiran's eyes would occasionally dart behind him to Mireia, glancing over his shoulder to follow the Sultan's appraising gaze to the fae behind him. "This is Mireia. My newest toy," he explained to Sephiran, taking a small sidestep to put Mireia more directly in their new alpha's line of sight. "One of the downsides of traveling so far—I couldn't bring my Sidi with me." It had been such a tragedy having to give up his toys when he departed Saffron, but at least he'd gotten to have one last night to play with them. Oh, and play with them he did! He felt bad for whoever had to clean up the bodies after he was done with them. Az then looked to Mireia to do as he had done and swear fealty to the Sultan. "Say hello to your new Sultan, Mireia." The steely look in his green eyes urging her to speak now and speak carefully. Then they would await Sephiran's further questions or his approval.

"Azrael Saxe"

They were hardly kept waiting long before a man emerged from the tree line, moving toward them intently. His coat was more vibrant and ostentatious than that of her master, but still showed this violet hue that Azrael had. Was that a common trait among these Saxe wolves? The man greeted Azreal curly, but by name so they clearly knew one another. Azrael was far more personable it seemed, but it was far from the fist time she had seen a brute be to the point and nothing else. There was a question over whether or not Azrael was here to serve him and of course he assured the Sultan that he was. That was the whole reason they had come up to this inhospitable place, wasn't it? They certainly weren't here for the splendid weather.

Soon she felt Sephiran's gaze land on her, but the slight smirk on her lips never wavered. She held her tongue until Azrael introduced her, calling her his new toy and mentioning the fact that he hadn't been able to bring his previous Sidi with him. "Hola, mi rey, a pleasure to meet you," she added to a low bow when prompted to greet the Sultan. No matter what Azrael might have thought she did intend to be on her best behavior... for now, at least. She was pretty adept at reading the aura of others and she could tell this Sephiran character wouldn't take kindly to her usual sass so she kept that to herself to save for Azrael's ears only later on.

"Mireia"

As Sephiran approached, Azrael sank down into a bow, a gesture of respect and reverence as he acknowledged his cousin’s status as Sultan. Of course, this made his arrogance spark and crackle, festering within his chest and bringing a subtle smirk to his lips. The son of Saffron’s inquisitor, a male skilled in the art of manipulation, bloodshed, and torture. A male whose loyalty ran deep and pure, committing his life and preferences to Saffron. Only, there was no need for him anymore, given Saffron was quite stable and had an inquisitor of their own. So, it was no surprise that he was searching for purpose, professing his commitment to the empire and ready to serve beneath his cousin’s rule.

But Sephiran wasn’t a wolf easily convinced- there was always a tinge of suspicion, persecutory delusions running rampant in his mind even in the face of his family. Everyone was a lair. Liar. Liar. Cocking his head slightly, he stares his cousin down with an accusatory gleam in his eye, unyielding and stern. “Oh?” He says, questioning him. “And you believe I will hand the position over to you?” He raises a brow at him, searching for any changes in his body language, analyzing him for any inclination of disloyalty. Of course, there as none - Sephiran was just an insatiably paranoid creature. “If you aspire to be my inquisitor, you will earn it.” He wouldn’t take Azrael’s word for it- he needed to prove he was a master in the art, before Sephiran would consider him for the role.

Still, he would give the male a chance to prove himself- which meant, he needed a place in his ranks. “You may join my ranks, under the role of Ghazi.” He says, shifting his gaze back to the woman behind his cousin. Her name was Mireia, and she was his Sidi. He would allow her to serve his pack as a Sidi, beneath the watchful eye of Azoula and her master. “And you may bring your Sidi.” A gracious offer indeed- there wasn’t much room left in his kingdom, and while they were working on expanding, there were some loose ends to tie up. Besides, she was a rather attractive fae... Sephiran was already fantasizing of an interaction with her.

Shifting his attention back to his cousin, he’s assessing him again. “One season, Azrael.” He says, firm and resolute. “You have one season to prove you’ve excelled as an inquisitor.” A challenge for his cousin to fulfill, one he expected him to wholeheartedly commit himself to.


"Sephiran Saxe"