Forward we March!

Victory. It tasted sweet on the Sultan’s tongue, he’d managed to best the behemoth in battle and that was enough to satiate his depravity for now. But all around him, his wolves and creatures were battling, some winning, some losing. This wasn’t the time to stroke his ego, he needed to move on and find another opponent. Pulling himself away from the Warlord, his emerald and amethyst eyes scan the valley, searching for someone to fight. He spots two wolves with wings, both equally as massive but one was fighting against his Uncle.

Watching as Rhazien fell, Sephiran chose his next target. Charging across the battlefield, the Sultan rushes at Wylan, coming from a perpendicular angle. He juts his shoulder out, attempting to slam straight into the male’s right side, at the widest part of his ribcage. In sync, his jaws splay, and he snaps at his right wing, trying to grab the bony arch to gain control of the appendage. His three companions are working alongside him, ready to intercept the polar bear and sheep fighting with the winged boy.

"Sephiran Saxe"