Mountain God

I reign over it. Please, come in. Rhazien dips his head a single time, signifying agreement, before shifting his gaze back to Kaino. He weighs the expression on her face, trying to decipher the thoughts whirling inside of her mind. He had faith in his niece- she was still a novice in the world of politics, but she was a fast learner. Which was why he brought her along. She’d already started gravitating towards the younger boy- falling effortlessly into the role of enumerator. What he found surprising, was that Víðarr commanded the younger pair away- wanting his son to feed Kaino, and show her around. He gave her a nod, granting permission - though, Kaino already knew she could do as she pleased - before he turned away to walk through the territory with the mountain king.

Mead, ideals, and soup- a combination Rhazien hadn’t experienced in quite some time. “How generous.” He says, flashing that suave, charming smile of his. Admittedly, there was a regality that often accompanied politics, and it was something Rhazien deeply enjoyed- the sharing of ideologies while gulping down the finest wines and liquors, and feasting on preserved meats and foods. In the past, there’d even been whores on some occasions. Drawing circles in the fur of his chest, sprawled out across his lap, enticing him with hot breath in his ears- but alas, this alpha didn’t seem the type to partake. Or so Rhazien assumed. So perhaps their evening would consist of just mead, ideals, and soup- still a satisfying event for the older Saxe, if it meant getting to know the alpha and his kingdom.

Víðarr led him through the maw with ease, bringing them to a summer office of sorts- one already adorned in mead, water, and miscellaneous foods meant for casual grazing. Rhazien surveys the room before he enters behind Víðarr, searching for anything out of the ordinary or concerning. A slow-burning fire caught his attention, one the alpha stroked with precision to keep it burning throughout their meeting. And once Víðarr settled beside it, Rhazien took his place across from the dark male. A moment of silence hangs in the air between them- tainted only by the soft cackling of the embers in the fire.

And then, Rhazien initiates the exchange. “Your Heiðinn,” He begins, gazing at Víðarr who is across from him. “How did it come to rise? And what idealisms do you promote.” Simple information, yet valuable to a man like Rhazien. Long-standing packs were harder to infiltrate. So were packs with multiple allies and tricks up their sleeves. And, speaking of tricks… just how did this man run his kingdom? There was so much Rhazien wanted to know.  

"Speech"