Her father had let them down. He had let his bitch take over the pack, leaving her and sisters out in the cold. Betrayal had hardened her heart, rage boiled her blood. Lips remained curled back in a near constant snarl. Gone was the quiet girl, in her place stood a monster that wanted her share, her payment. She was of royal blood, it burned in her veins, it lusted for power. And her father had failed.

She had heard the whispers. Whispers of a new pack. Valhalla was gone. And in its place a new pack had risen. She had set out in search, wanting to know more about this mysterious pack that had destroyed Valhalla. It was a long and dreadful search, but soon the russet girl was rewarded. The unmistakable scent of a border invaded her nostrils.

She would stop at the edge, blue and silver eyes searching the forest. Her crown would tilt back, a call being dragged forth for the Alpha. Perhaps this could be her new home? Only if they fit her standards. She would no longer allow herself to come second best. She wanted power, and power she would have. Tail curled around her hocks as she stood waiting. Her crown remained lifted high, she would now bow to the unknown.

Light filtered through the densely-compacted canopy of leaves that seemed to loom over every inch of her domain as the sun peeked over the horizon, caressing the earth with its warmth and painting the sky overhead in an array of vibrant pinks and oranges. It was a new dawn and the beginning of a new era for the porcelain prodigy, her beloved kin, and all who sought to obtain greatness through intensive training and vigorous work beneath her strict rule?but whose need for supremacy would lead them into her tight grasp? Currently, the Tyrant expected few canines would willingly extend a helping paw to aid her in her mission of constructing a glorious empire until its foundation was secured, so the domineering summon that echoed through her empty realm surely came as a surprise to the youthful sovereign. She did not wish to fail in her duties as queen as her mother had so long ago, so the babe would promptly respond to the unknown canine?s beckon as her limbs carried her robust form in an elegant traipse towards the borders of her territory. Skull would ascend above her spinal column to indicate her newfound prestige within the confines of the forest that had been clearly marked with her feminine scent, ears tipped slightly forward with confidence?poised immaculately but not too arrogantly as her tail swayed level with her spine. Mismatched gaze ravaged through the forestry as she approached the borders of her territory, pupils easily locating the canine as she surfaced from the light fog that perpetually encumbered her domain. ?Ah,? the wraith began as she halted a respectful distance away from the russet babe, immediately drawn to the youthful qualities of her facial features despite the behemoth size of her physique. ?You are young; they always underestimate the youth.? She had experienced it firsthand?it had appeared that none of the Valhallans had believed her capable of usurping the queen due to her age, and yet, there she stood, victorious. The faintest trace of a small smile encompassed her tattered countenance as her mismatched gaze met the cyan depths of the girl, muzzle tipping minutely in her direction before introductions were made. ?My name is Artemis?Artemis Elysius, Tyrant of Elysium. And who are you??

She was not kept waiting long before a phantom slide into her view from the shadows of the forest. Ever so slightly her crown would lower, recognizing this woman as someone of authority, but she would not submit entirely, just yet at least. Cyan gems would turn towards the pale babe, audits sliding forward, words breaching, invading her skull. A slow grin would twist her features as she spoke. It was true. Her age left her constantly underestimated. "Ah but it so much more satisfying when they are bested.

The phantom would introduce herself as Tyrant of Elysium. Nostrils quivered, so far the territory smelled only of her. The pack was new, small numbers came as no surprise, but no followers was a surprise. "Sevan Adravendi, daughter of Syrnix." Her family name was well known throughout Alacritis, surely the Tyrant would recognize it. "I have heard the rumors of you besting my Aunt." A sickening grin would once again twist her features.

Her family had soured her, turning her against them. They had betrayed her, left her with nothing and for nothing. "My family has fallen, betrayed me and my sisters, my father leaving his throne for one of his whores to take. I seek new allegiances, and it seems as though you are in need of some." Confidence allowed her to speak freely, boldly. Surely a new queen would not turn away help, numbers, strength. Her father, though sometimes lacking, had taught her and her sisters much. They had been trained as warriors, and herself, in the field of medicine. Her skills, though limited still, were immensely helpful to a young pack. But she would say nothing else until the porcelain babe would speak, voice her desires.