Devil's Advocate

He was padding through the tall grass, trailing a rabbit in hopes of setting up an ambush outside its warren when the breeze filtering through the rippling waves of the plains brought an unfamiliar, yet familiar scent to his nose, and his head lifted as he puzzled over it for a moment, though his paws had automatically turned away from his path to head in that direction. It was a male, and an alpha, judging by the scent. And yet there was something familiar about the smell.

He pondered circling around until he judged himself to be parallel to the visitor, wondering if he could test his forest craft on this one to gather a little information before actually facing him. Probably it would have been far easier to accomplish this feat in the Moor next door, where the mists that pervaded that land year-round muffled scents and hindered sight. He wasn’t too worried about sound. He’d long since mastered moving quickly with care, and he’d memorized nearly every inch of his own lands by now. He was more certain that his own bright red coat would give him away.

In the end, he shrugged, breaking into a long trot, choosing a more direct approach. He broke from the tall grass just as the howl rang out. He could see the male just before he came out. Quite a large male, with canines that caught Regulus’ attention immediately with some interest. It wasn’t the markings that came across as surprising; when you were bright red, unusual was normal.

He was just in time to catch the gist of the mutter on the wind, and as he drew nearer, he responded with a slight grin. “Well, that remains to be seen; what do you find boring?” Unlike his smaller sister, he bore clear marks of his fights, from the visible claw marks over the crescent shaped scar from the tiger and the boar before him, to the newer marks that festooned his right cheek, and a more concealed scar just above the right elbow of his foreleg. The slightest hitch of his gait was just another mark.

His brief once over of the male took in the brawn, and the younger age, before his own haunches lowered to the ground, hocks gathered beneath him. He didn’t have enough knowledge of this one to be entirely relaxed, though his outward appearance was relaxed and amicable. His intuition said that this one could be trouble, or at the very least, someone to keep a watch on at a distance.

“I’m Regulus Adravendi, Archangel of Celestial. What brings you to my borders?” Business like, respectful. As long as this male didn’t start anything, Regulus had no reason to be anything else.