It is of little surprise that upon coiling return of an elusive nomad, he would hunt the bleeding heart of his father’s legacy – though the albino distraction had little worship to offer a man of such prestige, a loose allegiance would undeniable lurk modest chasms of a soul so vacuously wintry. Perhaps a sickening ailment induced by the festering spider-veins of his incestual breeding; something that did little neither delight nor disgrace. A face of tainted puzzlers shall loiter dim shadows, a once-boy now a ripened influence that could boast only of original Armada-fester; a never dying plague. And he shall seek those who reign here, a voice that ushers free of coral orifice with no face to call home - cloaked beyond an earthly dip and a huddle of scheming pines.

There was something eerie about the call that echoed proudly through the forest. The ivory Queen lifted her head from outside her den where she laid, a puzzled expression written across her face. As she pulled herself to her feet, swollen belly in toe, she tried to place the voice. She walked with familiarity, not really paying attention to the land around her as she moved- she knew this forest better than most of the wolves who would reside here. She would not move in a hurry, her fat form didn't allow much rushing these days, and the energy it cost her to exert herself- she didn't think a call from the border, was worth  that. Never-the-less, she made her way to her bored, a slightly disdainful look on her face, at being the one who answered the call- where was her King, Heir and Lady? Couldn't they handle a border nuisance?  As she emerged from the trees- nothing more than a swollen ghostly shadow, she started with a shock? Seeing only half the wolf before her- she almost mistook him for her father, from such a distance- almost. There was an eerie disruptive to the ethereal beauty of her father- to the boys face, darkness that bled into his albino features something that she noted,as she came closer, and realized that it was the spawn of Isardis and Sendoa that stood before her. It was irony that he had found his way home, so soon after his brother had also reappeared. As she approached, she shook off her earlier misconceptions. There was little other than the albinism and height that the boy shared with their sire. Was this pregnancy taking her sanity as well as her fit body?  For one- at first glance he didn't seem to command the regal air that Isardis had. Oh, but there were similarities. Roman realized with a frown that she didn't know the boys name. She knew who he was yes- there was no denying the loins from which he had come from, but she didn't know his name. She would halt- aiming to place herself a mere five feet from the young wolf, her violet eyes brimming with curiosity, as her swollen body sank gracefully back onto her hindquarters. "The prodigal son returns." She comments simply. Kyarst had only recently returned, as well as Lysis. Neither had aligned themselves with Regium yet, but she remembered that Kyarst had asked of his brother. Lord- what was his name.   test test Greek Speak -- Roman Speak

 

A familiar of pale wonder and peculiar décor, she is a thing of unspoken novels and a deity of royalty. Though he finds little more time to appreciate her wealth, she is that of kin, and that of the leadership he had so flaccidly sought. She might wander his presence only by his allowance; no longer veiled nor a ghost of wilted existences. Perhaps it is the opposite that near wails of a pre-eminence unearned through exploit but gifted by genetics – a dangerous beauty that by some means defies the law of effeminate beings and weaves unsullied hands in an elegant dance of both masculinity and haunting elegance. He is quiet for a moment; an emotionless façade beaming with peculiar other-worldliness, an almost wavering stare, “But one of many, Roman Armada.” A voice hovered with eerie syllable pause and a memory second to few, he is well familiar of even a woman who does not seem to wholly remember his christening. “I come with an offering that may prove to do little to tempt you, however if it is blood you seek within your numbers, then I present a loose proposal of my contribution.” But as yet, no loyalty to a queen I know little.

 

She studies him, her expression the epitome of neutrality. She hasn't any fondness or kinship towards the oddity, she hardly knows him. Yet, he is an Armada, and alone allows her foul mood to slip away, so she can objectively consider him. He is young, much like his brother, the one that she has actually spoke with. It is the glorious blood alone, that flows through his veins, the untapped potential that she know their sire's genetics infuse she and her siblings with- that keeps her interest. He speaks- and she is again at a loss. He's been a phantom since birth, and one of the few siblings that she knew of, but hasn't spoke with. Searching the depths of her mind- she tries to think of any instance in which someone has uttered his name. The search is in vain. Clearly, she remembers personally meeting Kyarst, but she had failed in ever meeting this other brother of hers. So she speaks. "It seems rather interesting that I know you are my brother. I know your lineage as clearly as I know my own- but I do not even know your name." Her words are as casual as if she were discussing the weather, yet there is an air of curiosity to them. It bothers her that he knows her name- and she doesn't even know his.  He speaks, and she listens, her violet eyes studying his hauntingly beautiful features. "There is always room in my empire for the bearers of the glorious blood that flows through our veins, for that blood holds such potential." She pauses. "Until they prove themselves unfit for such glory." Blood alone- earns his place here, perhaps it is a place offered with little question, though as of yet- she has no reason to distrust him. She will watch him carefully in the coming days. "Your brother asked about you." She comments, watching to see if there is any spark of sibling nature between them? Would the strange lad before her even care that Kyarst had wondered of him?   test test Greek Speak -- Roman Speak

Kuvio "Jigsaw" Armada

She reflects faint remembrances of Isardis; though undoubtedly different, there are similarities that beam beneath the amethyst of her gape and the weave of her lungs. He is aware of her pregnancy ( spawn writhing beneath a gold-paved womb ), however not principally interested; surely of his business, but a dealing that matters little to a mind of such cosmic breadth. “Jigsaw,” is his simplistic response, a voice that threatens to overlap her own speech; as if he had predicted her question. The pet name his brother had been so persistent with had stuck, few sought to call him Kuvio, and hence he rarely introduced himself as such; a twisted identity. “Kuvio by birth,” it is a crude confirmation; Roman may have only encountered him as a youth, and hence may know him by the christening formally delivered by his parents. 

Isardis’ influence continues to bleed from the words that unfold her salmon tongue, an almost mesmerizing manipulation that seemed to loiter long after his departure. Ah, Kyarst. But he bothers little to question the extent of Roman’s peak, there is poor interest in exchanging messages between kin; he would speak with Kyarst when it came time – and hence, his lips simply pleat in a mysterious expression of dwindled recognition, a vague simper. “Anything more?” a vague suggestion of his looming departure; he had already established what was needed, and had little desire to linger.  

 

Jigsaw- or Kuvio by birth was the lads name, and suddenly it clicked. Nodding, Roman took the name to store it to memory. Mentally, she laughed at the odd coincidence. Roman didn't go by her birth name either, rather she'd renamed herself. She didn't mention the fact- it was useless information really. It would seem that their conversation was beginning to draw to a close. Jigsaw asked if there was anything else, and Roman spoke. "Only the question of rank. Are you a fighter, hunter, or healer?" She inquired, her tone had returned to the brisk pace she often kept. She shuffled her feet slightly, itching to hear his response and give him a rank so she could get back to the things she had been doing even if that were sleeping. It seemed her half brother wanted to get on with things, and didn't want to pass the breeze, and she was in no mood to push conversation.   test test Greek Speak -- Roman Speak

Kuvio "Jigsaw" Armada

“I fight to defend credence and I hunt when I am ravenous,” he pauses, cherry lips of unsullied satin curling beyond a puzzle-stained maw; gaze of mismatched glory and history unwritten so intent within his own self-comfort. He is unlikely to be her best asset; though power and physical wholesomeness exude from sallow pours in untameable plenty, he is unlikely to be a beast of extreme dedication to her people. Jigsaw does little well with authority. “Title me what you desire; and call for me when I am needed,” vague perhaps, but wholly characteristic for the elusive youth. And hence he shall seek to depart; a graceful and breeze-blown disappearance of sallow and iron. 

--- exit.

As her sibling speaks, she listens a wry smile pulling at her jaws. He is quite odd. His words are simple, and she smirks slightly. Mentally she labels him as an infantry wolf, mostly because she lacks those of that rank and she knows little else where she will put him. She turns away from him as he seeks to leave. Tossing a parting word over her shoulder, she speaks. "See you around, Jigsaw." She says, a slight smirk dancing on her lips as she moves off in the direction of her den. She needs to alert Drashiel of the new wolf within their ranks, so that as their brother comes and goes, the King doesn't seek to eat him. She wonders if she will have to call upon him soon. Life had been eerily peaceful, if one could ignore the ignorant fools who dared attempt to reside in the North- but she could crush them later, when she wasn't swollen with infants. Yes, she would deal with them later. For now she would rest and let her children grow, and let her sibling find his way. -exit Roman- test test Greek Speak -- Roman Speak