Turn about

Walking along the perimeter of the Hebridean Sheep corral, Sephiran is testing the enclosure for weaknesses, ensuring his collection of sheep cannot escape his domain. An occasional alarmed bleat resonated from a sheep, alarm coursing through their bodies as a predator lingered just out of their ring of safety. But Sephiran had no interest in harming the herd- he’d commanded Azoula to collect them, after all - to build them an enclosure so they could harvest their wool and horns. They were another resource for him to exploit and use-. His. His. His.

Content with his inspection, Sephiran begins a patrol of the evergreen forest, peering over the drop-offs to view the rocky shoreline below. A small figure catches his eye- he can’t depict who it is from this distance, but he’s aware of their presence nonetheless.

"Sephiran Saxe"