Turn about

Pups were typically born with an innate sense of fear. It helped them survive and gave them natural protection. Unfortunately for the little demoness of the Praetor-Inferos type... She did not have that luck. Fear had to be taught to her, and she knew that fear as respect. A respect for water, a respect for Zagan, a respect for her father and mother. After the incident with Kaino, her parents had tried to drill into her head the knowledge of each Saxe...

He said her name... As if he was tasting a delectable treat while she felt the need to tuck her chin down and cover her throat. She eyed him warily as he circled her and repeated her name. She stood stock still and let her eyes keep him in view, turning her head subtly to look behind her as he circled her. The way he spoke her name again and let her surname drip off his tongue gave her a flicker of a curled lip snarl that she subdued before it forced itself out. It was more like a flinch of the lip.

As Araxina grows she will have the power and agility to match her willful spirit. Even now in her puppy roundedness, she was lean and bracing for her next move. Her tail twitched to expel overtaught energy as she stood before him.

Her eyes met his with a hint of skepticism when he admitted his son was Zagan. Her charcoal ears flicker as she hears the caw of one of her mother's ravens in one of the nearby trees. An answering croak from the polar sound let Araxina know her parents knew exactly where she was. But she was being tested here, and she would not let them down.

She was silent as he sharply asked her the question of whether she knew who he was. Fuck. She ran her tongue over the inside of her teeth. There were... six? No-four? Shit... a small number of Saxe men she needed to be wary of. The highest ranked was... Fenalli? Ferizan? Sephickiel? None of thooooose. She flashed her tail behind her in frustration.

She dared to blurt whatever came to mind. "Sezian Saxe. theSultineer." She replied boldly, keeping her tiny ebony chin to her black ruby throat. A white shattered heart marking over her chest. Recalling names was never her forte. But she was never wrong.