An interesting predicament

Walking along the borders of The Polar Sound, Rhazien is savoring the sunlight that filters through the canopy of evergreen needles. The air is crisp and cool, enhanced by the light snowfall covering the ground from last night's drizzle. By now, most of it had melted off, creating small puddles on the forest floor, amplifying the earthy scent of the flourishing domain. Despite the cold, it was quite beautiful here. Soon, the autumn season would come to a close and winter would envelop the sound. Which meant they needed to enjoy this fleeting warmth while it lasted.

As he patrolled the borders, Zemir and Zemra were riding on his back, grooming his shoulders and nape with their rogue tongues and whispering obsessive coos into his ears. Their purring reverberated into his chest, the vibration bringing a delighted smirk to his lips. They trilled, and he chuckled, which earned a head bump from both of the girls. They were so outwardly affectionate. If they were wolves, they’d probably be his second and third wives- but alas, the gods had made them his fateful companions instead.

He’d just come around a bend when a howl broke the silence of The Sound, disrupting the tranquility of the moment he was sharing with his girls. But oh? What’s this? It’s one he recognizes; a girl he’s hunted with on a few occasions, and hasn’t seen in a couple seasons. Her voice resonated from the borders, meaning she was treading along the methodical line, commanding attention and stirring the dormant atmosphere. Rhazien is quick to change his course, moving at an even pace to answer her call. Wanting to beat Sephiran to it.

Emerging from the treeline, Rhazien saunters towards Delphi, his two companions leaping down from his back and taking a seat nearby. Each movement he makes is deliberate, his erect posture exuding confidence and charm as his lips pull back into a suave smile. “It’s been a while.” He says, watching her with a calculating, analytical gaze- surveying the subtle changes in her stance, trying to decipher why she was here. She smelt like the Vikings, which were just beyond the ridge. Actually, now that he thought of it. They were neighbors. “Welcome to The Syndicate.” Rhazien stops once he is a comfortable distance from the girl, his head tipping back slightly as he peers down at her through his piercing, multi-hued gaze. “Has Víðarr sent you?” Of course, Rhazien doesn’t know of the leadership change, or that Artorias held a meeting with the alphas of Ardent regarding The Syndicate. All he can do is go off the knowledge he currently has, assuming Víðarr still rules over the mountain range.

"Speech"