Oh, Hunters of the Valley

Oh? Azoula was intrigued, having peeled herself away from Laney who was still recovering from her encounter with the Sultan. Aresenn, the crowned Emir, was summoning the pack to him with the intent of teaching them a hunting lesson. She found it a bit ironic, seeing she was the best huntress in the pack. Why wouldn’t she be? An apex predator in a group of dogs. The smirk that curled her lips was questionable; was she amused by their inability to excel in the art? Or was she intrigued by the thought of spilling blood with her fellow pack mates?

Licking Laney on the head and departing from the Sidi dens, Azoula stalks towards the call with predatory ease, her movements calculated and feline, as she emerges from the winter wasteland to join the gathering group. She’s the last to arrive, and even Sephiran has graced them with his presence. Stopping to bow, she offers her respects before turning to Aresenn, waiting to see what he has in store for them.  

"Azoula Davati"