Turn about

For several moments, the Sultan observes the tiny silhouette on the beach, analyzing their movements as they traveled across the rocky terrain. They are quick to find the stone trail that would guide their way up the mountainside, leading them to the evergreen forest at the dome of the volcano.

Cocking his head slightly, Sephiran’s mind is churning, a contemplative expression replacing his previous look of indifference. Whose child might this be? It was a pup no doubt, given the size- but whether it was one of his, one of Absinth’s, or one of Elysia’s was yet to be told. As he contemplated, his claws tapped rhythmically against the ground, restless energy simmering within his gut. If this was one of his own, he’d make a point to torment them. To make them stronger, to instill fear, to morph them into a proper Saxe warrior as his father had done with him.

"Sephiran Saxe"