Cut From the Same Cloth

Imperia's remark of how she was ready to make them scream drew a dark smirk across Alastor's lips. Oh, he could already fantasize the sweet melodies they could make those fuckers sing, and it would be glorious...! Soon—not now, but soon. There was much work that needed to be done first. Manea had to have her pack. She had to finish gathering the family and establishing their home. Then they could see about a bloodbath on pirate lands, assuming the dumb lucky bitch's group stayed together that long. He didn't put it past the careless whore to simply fall to the wayside and disappear into nothingness.

She asked about a plan to kill the bear, and although he could think of several, Alastor found it far more fun to live life in the moment and roll with the punches. However, he could see the glimmer of an idea hiding in Imperia's purple eyes. "Sometimes it's more fun to take a leap of faith with no plan. And sometimes it's more fun to see what others can create." He motioned with a flick of his head towards the rocky mountains nearby. "The bear's scent leads that way. A grizzly. It's probably holed up in a cave hibernating for the winter. Would you like to do the honors and show me how you make art? Consider me your assistant."

A flash of brilliant white fangs amongst jet black fur, and Alastor waited for Imperia to take the lead. Although he knew his position as Manea's mate gave him a modicum of power, he never carried himself as any more important than anyone else. After all, did he not bleed the same as the others? Imperia would get the chance to be in charge today and show what she was capable of.

"Alastor Mendacium"