Dealer's hand

Lingering near the borders of the Sparse Pines, Rhazien was scouting the perimeter for anything of interest. Although this wasn’t The Syndicate’s claimed territory yet, the older Saxe felt an affinity toward the pines- it was a massive forest, concealing plentiful prey, bordering the Wall and possessing its own beach. Sephiran would be a fool not to claim it for his own.

Somewhere within, a lone wolf is scouting the forest, a summons for a spar resonating through the trees. Rhazien stops, leaning forward on his front end, testing the air for any distinguishable scents. He’d run into a Hollows girl here, after all- another Hollows member could be here, wanting to initiate trouble. Instead, he’s met with a familiar cologne- a man he hadn’t seen in quite some time, but he recognized his musk nonetheless.

Entering the forest, Rhazien follows’ the male’s scent, emerging from the teeline with a playful smirk on his lips. Alaric, a male he’s fought predators with before, is standing in a clearing, a canine lingering behind him and waiting for commands. Rhazien’s servals emerge from behind him, rubbing the length of their bodies against his forelimbs. “Alaric.” He hums, cocking a brow at the male. “How wonderful to see you again.” There’s playful sarcasm in his voice- he’s surprised to see the man after so many seasons have passed. “If you’re looking for a challenge.” His tail flicks behind him, muscles growing taut with anticipation. “I’ll fight you.” He nods, signaling his readiness. If Alaric wanted a brawl, he’d give him the first shot.

"Rhazien Saxe"