To The Victor, The Spoils

Alastor gave a bark of laughter while the wolf, who introduced himself as Cináed, bantered back with him, buttering him up just a bit in all the right ways. Alastor flashed a toothy grin to the young wolf who mirrored him in size. "Alastor. Quite the pleasure!" he introduced himself in turn. "You know, I like your bravado, Cináed. Bold, fiery, wild! You remind me of my own boy in a way. A real fighter at heart; a man's man! And true men and warriors like you and I, we deserve prizes and rewards far more delectable than a finely cooked steak. You know what I mean?" Still being cryptic as ever, Alastor led the young brute into the quiet Elysium camp and towards a den on the outer side of the cluster. It had been used as a storage den for the most part, but after being thoroughly impressed by the Fenmyrian warrior, he'd had it repurposed for tonight's events.

Leading Cina up to the den entrance, Alastor plopped himself down on his haunches and waved the other male in with a grin, inviting him to take a look. Inside, the den had been cleared out save for a large sprawling bed of furs upon which his servant Irilyth lay in repose, waiting to do her duty as her Master had commanded of her. "From the way you fight, I take you as a brute whose tastes run more... primal than others. Just like me," Alastor said with a low chuckle and knowing look to Cináed. "There's nothing quite like fucking a pretty fae silly after a good, bloody fight, am I right? It's the perfect way to burn off that extra testosterone. So consider her my prize to you for thrashing me, and my pack, so ruthlessly. She's yours for as long as you need."


"Alastor"