Oh, Hunters of the Valley

He’d commanded the hunters of the pack to work on perfecting their skill, as he’d need to promote someone to lead hunter by the winter. And winter had enveloped The Sound quicker than the other regions, given they were in the northern territories. The icy grip was relentless, plunging this domain in a frosty canvas, submerging most of the foliage beneath a veil of white. Tsk. He needed capable hunters now more than ever; keeping the pack fed during this season would be a challenge.

So when Aresenn summoned the hunters to a lesson, Sephiran was both pleased and perplexed. Were they not capable of honing their skills on their own? Growling, the Sultan pulls himself out of his den, following Aresenn’s call until he finds a small group gathering around his Emir. As he strides forward, he exudes an aura of malevolence and power, commanding attention with his presence, as he finds a large boulder to perch upon and watch the lesson unfold. He will not be a participant, but instead, a spectator, as he means to analyze his hunters to identify any weaknesses in his ranks.  

"Sephiran Saxe"