Midnight Thrill

While patrolling the borders of the Sparse Pines at the midnight hour, Sephiran’s falcon was watching from the sky, swooping in and out of the pines to complete a lap around the perimeter. It caught sight of a small but growing azure figure, gold hues accenting its fur, indicating a certain pup the Sultan had set his sights on. Xairo. Returning to its master, the falcon reports its findings, and Sephiran’s impulsive nature takes over.

Xairo, all alone, at the midnight hour. No Absinth. No Aresenn. Vulnerable.

Turning on his heels, he takes off into the forest, leaping over fallen logs and sprouting underbrush, zeroing in on his son. Primal energy surged through his veins, his presence seeming to fill the forest around him, casting a long shadow that served as a warning of the impending danger. He wanted to hunt his son down like a toy. To ignite a chilling, visceral fear in the boy, to challenge his fight or flight instincts that would tell him to run.

"Speech"