"I look into the night sky and see a thousand eyes staring back" Many wolves envied how simple he was at times. Migi did not worry about others as he should be. Therefore the fact that the pack was not really active was not what bothered him. He put in the effort to say that he would try his best for the pack, only to get nothing in return as of yet. His tail flicked as his blood orange eyes looked at the water. His paws settling softly on the sand in the code he sat down and shut his eyes. The cool air flowing through his fur and down his spine, most would find this comforting, he just found it another reason not to survive. “If she as much as leaves me behind with those pups I will simply move on. But if she is still around I will keep as promised. ” he thought out loud. He was determined to make a relationship with Morgana, but if it never happened it never happened. After all, you could not force someone to love you, maybe if you spent enough time and kept pressing. Even then though it would be a flittering spark. He settled himself down on his stomach, but as he was, he did not worry. Whatever happened was a twist of fate and he would continue to live. That was his one and only goal, to keep living.  “”

                                the execution of the deity’s regal promenade has faltered since conception, strides less calculated and refined due to the baggage of excess weight upon her abdomen { where developing tyrants fester }. yet she retains an intoxicating aura of supremacy and contempt despite her obvious hindrances; broad skull ascended above tectonic shoulder blades while her tail hovers in alignment with the notches of her spinal column, both irrefutably confident and dangerously assertive. though within the chasms of her own distorted psyche lies the unwavering belief that such a domineering stance is well-deserved and warranted, for she is the usurper — the undefeated! and those that lurk within her poisoned womb are fated to the similarly prestigious titles and regalia which plagues the elysius surname.

and the tyrant queen is elated by the prospect of whelping ruthless and competent children militants, a desire to allocate the news of her latest and greatest conquest to her ally of the northern region { the nubile armada sovereign } forcing the deity to vacate the premises of her misted crypt in favor of her former haven. nostalgia pricks at the deity’s taut flesh as the winter winds rake relentlessly through her pallid coat, velveteen nostrils flaring to indulge in the bittersweet aroma of pine and frost — a lack of isardis’ overwhelming scent prominent to the elysius. yet she disregards the thoughts which taint her psyche as the tenor of another’s vocals permeate the silence of her surroundings, curiosity withdrawing the tyrant from her self-appointed mission as she allows for the cadence of his voice to guide her directly to him.

a smirk flits across the tyrant’s abhorrent features as she halts in her saunter, frigid gaze scrutinizing his unimposing physique as he manifests within her line of vision — pathetically pining. and she is unfazed as she dares to encroach upon his personal space, skull cocking lazily to her right as she regards him with mild intrigue. “leave her before she can leave you,” the tyrant suggests affably, the ghost of a simper etched upon her countenance. “or —” she pauses, a singular brow quirking thoughtfully upon a sullied forehead, “— kill them all. and you will not waste such thoughts or energy on replaceable whores and incompetent babes.”

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"I look into the night sky and see a thousand eyes staring back" A scent would fill his nose before a face did, and would turn his attention towards a rather interesting being. A woman, obviously pregnant with young growing in her womb of another man, yet no male to be seen at her side. Making his blood orange eyes curiously raise to her, had she found him unfit, or simply hold no desire to keep him around. Not that Migi cared for the a matters of a stranger, and her words meant little to him despite the boy listening so intently to those tones she just so happened to throw out. Interesting, she was very dignified, he could tell when a wolf was stronger than him. Just the way she carried herself, power emitted from her. However fear was also an emotion he could just as easily forget like the rest. His body turned towards her, the king did think she was correct. Migi wanted those children first though, his young. They were his life blood, to continue on his progeny, he needed to make sure they turned out correctly. After seeing those poor walker children, they were so quickly abandoned. His young would not suffer as such, and would know right from the start they had to be smart and strong, either that or perish. “She holds a very important key though, but you speak truth wasting time on such matters is trivial.” He noted in a mono-tone voice. Muscles moving over his body as Migi watched her carefully. She was one of those, dangerous vixen's careful steps needed to be taken. He highly doubted she would risk much with young in her womb though, not if she was one of those. Migi had no doubt she was a tyrant leader, a Queen, simply put he was outmatched but didn't mind that at all. He had his smarts, they helped enough in his power line of life.  “What of you Silver Queen, what happened to the male that graciously granted the seed of new life within you?” he was curious, did she leave him behind or did he abandon ship. What a sad fate for such children, he honestly believe single parenting was a task, better left to the less fortunate. One day he would have his pack, and then Morgana would be a memory as soon as his children were raised. Survival was the most important.  “text”

                    she basks beneath the intensity of his vermillion gaze, anchored in her rigid stance and undaunted by his masculine presence or of their close quarters. and the elysius permits the acute scrutiny her own pupils aspire to perform upon his unimposing physique, mismatched gaze noticeably traversing every inch of his musculature in an attempt to pinpoint his deficiencies, his assets. { for if the deity manages to strike the right nerve within his psyche, surely this encounter would prove most brutal. } yet the tyrant fails to infuriate this monochromatic father, and a lone brow quirks curiously upon her mutilated forehead as he articulates of sudden enlightenment -- insinuated by she. though the deity remains wholly unintrigued by his personal tribulations, partially inclined to flee the premises of the coast she currently loitered in pursuit of her original mission: a quest for the armada queen.

yet his proceeding query forces the abominable tyrant to halt mid-pivot, broad skull tipping faintly to the side with infantile naivety as she regards her company with a fixated stare -- glacial, apathetic, lifeless. “dead,” is the resolute affirmation that perforates the momentary silence of their surroundings, tone evidently lacking remorse or lamenting sentiment. it is only the brief glimmer of wry amusement within the eyes that suggest a looming possibility of a murder so savage -- vehement carnage at the deity’s own paws. but it is only fleeting, as is her presence; and the elysius, whose interest has gone unfulfilled throughout the duration of their encounter, treks onward and away.

-- exeunt artemis

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