Pragmatic

She half expected to see him at this point, her nose was becoming accustomed to the scent of Flare on the soil. Whether stale or only an hour old. Their tracks were often crossed in their hunts. Unbeknownst to her, the molten brute was on the same quest as her, the urge to be better. So formidable that you could take your fantasies and force them into reality. Into something tangible.

Today, she would smell him again. Enyo had been tracking some pronghorns she had spotted in the distance earlier. Their travels led her farther north than she was expecting. Which was fine, she would relish the colder climate. However, she couldn't help but notice that often, Flare's scent would overlap the pronghorns. The fresher the prey's scent was, the fresher his would become. She would call Foberos from the sky, the deadly falcon landed on her back. Listening to the Warlord's commands to find him. It didn't take long, a piercing sky would tell her the faithful bird did so quickly. Enyo would follow Foberos' guidance to the Ghazi.


"And yet our paths cross again.", she stated matter-of-factly, "I have a sneaking suspicion we're after the same game today. If it's pronghorn, I saw them go that way." She would nudge the air with her head, pointing in the direction she has scented them before.

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"SPEECH"