He caught the scent of the stranger, near the ravine that he himself had found an interesting part of the landscape. He moved towards her, cautious at this wolf who was not of the Klein bloodline - not, at least, to his knowledge. He would see her brown-blue form huddled beneath the shelter of a great oak. Hunkered down as she was, her diminished form seemed even smaller, her light build like that of a dainty bird. He would have to be careful where he stepped in this pack. So many seemed to stand at astonishingly small heights.
The Titan blocked out the sun as he stopped before her, his saber fangs protruding from his lips without stealth, as he took her in with curiosity. Was she another slave, one held with less esteem then he himself? He still questioned why Deathbelle had ranked him so highly, through he spoke no word of complaint. He was her vessel, and did only as she asked.
“Little Dragonette?” he asked, as he oftentime did to those whose height left them so small before him. She had the scent of the Ashen Empire to her, faint, for the Empire had not been here for long, and all of its members were still fresh to its border, but he suspected this wolf had been here longer then he, if only mere moments or days.
Bloodletter
