Pleasure to be meeting you; quite a pleasure!

Alastor would have waited outside that tunnel all day if he had to. The wolf was old; with age came wisdom and experience. A good hunter knew how to lay in wait for his prey for hours at a time just to secure his kill. Tracking a wolf was no different; the stakes were just higher. So he waited, dark eyes glued to the hole in the side of the mountain, his mind racing with possibilities. The anticipation and the waited were the greatest parts of any hunt. That delicious moment of suspense right before your quarry came into view, the rise of action in the moment before the climax. It sent tingles jittering down the brute's spine and made him feel alive!

Eventually there was a shift of shadows in the mouth of the cave, a subtle motion in the dark that caught the hunter's attention. Alastor's body tensed, eyes sharp as steel and laser focused on the tunnel. Was it Mariah? No, the shape was much too large to be his daughter. Someone else was in the tunnel with her. Alastor had heard from his eldest children about Mariah finding a wolf she fancied. Was this that brute? Had she been sneaking out for trysts with her lover? Truth be told, Mariah hadn't spoken much to Alastor since she'd left Elysium on her journey. He attributed that to his own fault in making her the way she was and was his punishment from the Ancients. But that didn't mean he hadn't taken an interest in his youngest daughter's life. Finding out she had a secret boyfriend had been a painful blow. But now it was high time to see who this enigmatic Casanova was.

Hidden beneath his camouflage, Alastor watched as a brute equal to himself in size and stature stepped out of the tunnel, peering about at the snow-covered world with suspicious eyes. He was young—looking to be a freshly anointed adult, maybe three years at max. Alastor held his breath, leering at the stranger from his hiding place. He knew the wolf wouldn't be able to see him; so long as he didn't move, he was concealed. That is, until a raven flew down from the sky and alighted near the wolf, and Alastor knew the jig was up. Fuck, he hadn't been watching the sky! A rookie move, but there was no undoing it now. His cover was semi blown and he knew it from the growl the stranger issued to the world at large. He still couldn't see him, but there was no point in stalking any longer.

Alastor slid out from underneath the white blanket, rising to his full height as he stepped from the brush and made his way towards the wolf. Stygian eyes bore holes into the stranger's, showing no fear, no apprehension in his strides ever closer. Alastor stopped a few paces apart, studying the brute up close now. He was clad in nondescript black fur, marred only by scars and no other marks or shades. Alastor could see no obvious gifts on the wolf, but he knew better than most that a wolf's outside appearances could be vastly deceiving. The wind blew, carrying the stranger's scent towards him and the Mendacium brute's nostrils flares, catching every nuance and note. The stranger reeked of his daughter, making it painfully obvious what they had been up to. He also smelled of that pack neighboring them to the north, the ones that Avacyn was perturbed by the presence of. That told Alastor two things right away—this was indeed the wolf that had been fucking his daughter, and that this was also an enemy of Elysium.

But Alastor did not attack. He did not show any signs of aggression beyond the furrowing of a graying brow and the pull of his lips into a tight line. He had come here with a goal in mind and he would see that goal through. Raising a paw, Alastor beckoned the wolf closer—testing his courage and his confidence—then waited to see how the stranger would respond. Did he have any idea who he was? Had Mariah told him about her family? A smile slowly split the dire brute's lips, Alastor's signature grin finding itself at home on his muzzle. "Hello, stranger! Do you know who I am?" Alastor called out to the Syndicate wolf. A simple question, neither threatening nor intimidating in nature. In fact, it was downright conversational as Alastor awaited the stranger's response.


"Alastor"