verbatim.

In the horizon, the sun is starting to rise above the towering mountain range, casting an ethereal glow over the Polar Sound. The thick layer of snow on the forest floor glimmers in the light, reflecting the orange and pink hues. The early morning air is crisp, thick in the scent of pine, frost, and decay. The morning sun is bathing the Sound in warmth, a welcomed change to the overnight frigid temperatures. The Polar Sound was quite beautiful indeed- but Sephiran cared little about nature's magnificence. He found the persistent snowfall to be bothersome.

Even in the early morning hours, he’s walking along the borders, completing his first patrol of the day. His panther is at his side, his serpent coiled around his neck and his falcon hovering in the sky. So far, nothing of interest caught his attention- at least, not until his falcon started to screech, alerted by the ravens that something was occurring on the Eastern border. Changing his course, Sephiran follows his falcon, traveling beneath the canopy of pines. As he closes in, he notes the increasing number of ravens in the trees, converging near the source of interest and cawing out their alarm.

Emerging from the treeline, Sephiran sees two wolves at the border— Absinth, and a large, unknown male at her side. Stranger. Stranger. Stranger. As he strides forward, the Sultan exudes his usual air of dominance, his demeanor marked by arrogance and superiority. Each movement is calculated, deliberate, and causes a shift in the atmosphere. He stops at a conversational distance, his posture erect, shoulders squared, head tipped upwards as he shifts his gaze between the two wolves. The expression on his face is clear. He commands unwavering attention and respect from them both.

“Absinth.” He says, breathing her name through deep, rumbling baritones. The ravens in the pines become silent out of respect for the Sultan, but their attention stays on the unknown male and their keeper. His panther lingers behind him, ready to attack if needed. “Have you brought me a gift?” His piercing gaze turns to the male, and he roves it across his larger frame in interest. A new Sidi to play with?

"Sephiran Saxe"