Anything is better than this

Azrael · 05-16-2024, 07:04 PM

Large paws crunched through the underbrush as the Saxe brute made his way gradually northward. When the ship he'd arrived on had landed at the southern point of the continent, he had heard rumors of a group of violet-coated wolves taking over a pack nearby. Now, naturally, that had to be his family; who else would have such stunning good looks or prowess to topple an entire pack but the very heathens he was looking for! So northward Azrael went, arriving at the territories he had been directed to. The waterfalls were the clear landmarks he had been given to look for, but lo and behold, not a sign of a Saxe to be seen or smelt anywhere! A frown tugged at Azrael's lips. No no no, this wouldn't do. With his only lead gone cold and facing a dead end, the tracker began to sniff about the territory, looking for any sign fresh or stale of his family's whereabouts. He could make do with even the slightest clue if he could suss it out.

Pressing through some overgrown brush with the snap of twigs against his broad, muscular form, Az wandered out into a clearing beside the flowing streams and one of the larger waterfalls. The rucksack across his back holding his meager belongings from his home got snagged on a branch, but a growl and a swift kick to the offending plant freed him. Silly bush. With a harrumph, the brute turned back around—and was suddenly met with the form of another wolf coming towards him through the trees. She was a petite little thing, slender and lithe, dressed in earthen browns and clean whites. But her body was anything but pristine; her lovely form had been marred with a number of scars, many thin and inconsequential. She had a fresh wound on her chest and a fearful look in her ruby eyes. When she spoke, the lilt of a foreign accent tinted her words, some in common Lupine, others in a language he did not know. She was begging him for help though, offering anything for his assistance.

Azrael tipped his head a fraction of a degree to the side while he considered the fae. Who was this scared little morsel running through the woods? Whoever her master was, he clearly did not play nice with his toys. As he studied her, Az's expression remained impassive, making it impossible to tell what thoughts were running around in his brain. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) for the fae, those thoughts were all of how good she would look with his mark on her, how she would make a gorgeous Sidi for him to bring to his new home with him. He'd had to dispose of his others before leaving Saffron. Perhaps she might be the start of a new toy collection... In the blink of an eye, Azrael's expression shifted from neutral to a pleasant smile, his sage green eyes alight with a lively mirth.

"Things must be bad for you to ask a total stranger for help," he observed with almost a tinge of mock sympathy in his rich voice. He tsk tsked and shook his head. "For someone to so crudely mar such a work of art... Abominable." His eyes drifted to the paste on her chest, lifting a paw to dip a digit into the paste. Still fresh. She hadn't been running long. Those green eyes returned to her red ones as he asked a single question. "Very well. Where is he?"

"Azrael"

Login
Username:
Password:	Lost Password?
	Remember me

Anything is better than this

Azreal

Azrael