About a week had passed since their celebration, and in that time, Sephrain’s mind had been churning and calculating. A cloud of contemplation seemed to hang over him, all-consuming and heavy with the weight of his thoughts. What to do, what to do. Absinth had shown drive at the meeting, wanting to acquire the rank of lead warrior but Sephiran had put a stop to it. He needed more blood relatives in his upper ranks. Still, he felt the desire to acknowledge the woman for her efforts - odd, given Sephiran was a nasty patriarch who didn’t believe in the strength of women - but Absinth was… different. A creature cut from a different cloth, a sharp blade ready to yield itself in the name of the Saxe empire. And he intended to put it to use. But how? Ahh, that was the burning question- but finally, Sephiran had created a solution.
Having traveled to the island and traversed down the gutted valley into the heart of the dormant volcano, Sephiran stops at the edge of the bubbling lake. It was around midmorning, the forest up above teeming with life- but down in the pit, a different symphony was playing. The sound of deep, guttural croaks resonating from the flock of ravens caught his attention, the voices dark and foreboding, as they alerted Absinth of his presence. Hmpf. How fitting they’d already given him away, seeing he wanted to use them for the pack benefit.
Still, Sephiran would tilt his head back and release a summon for Absinth, demanding she emerge from her den and join him at the edge of the lake.
"Speech"
Code by Sea
Caution: Sephiran is a rated M character. Viewer discretion is advised.
Knight
Poison Master
