Creative Intent

A birthplace untaken- an interesting concept, but Zagan’s attention didn’t linger on the statement for long. What piqued his interest was the male’s next comment- the mention of his family inhabiting the area for the last season. A subtle thrill shot through the young Saxe- was this wolf a member of the old Norad? Was he there the night his Father invaded their home, threatened to kill their king’s son, and viciously ran their family out of their land? His mind was swarming with questions.

As he looked at the man, his eyes sharpened- not in suspicion, but morbid interest. “Was your family the founding members of Norad?” He asks, eyeing the male closely- his voice low, almost casual- but there was weight beneath his words- the hint of something darker.

But his suspicions were extinguished- the stranger gave a quick explanation of his craft, which went in one ear and out the other. Instead, Zagan focused his attention on the man’s name. Oath Morningstar, of Julia. Not from a pack, but a family. Nodding in acknowledgment, Zagan looked away from him, peering into the dancing flames. The air between them seemed to grow a little colder at that moment.

“Mmm, I see.” He said, before giving the man his name in return. “Zagan Saxe, heir to The Syndicate throne.” He wasn’t officially the Imperial yet- but Oath didn’t need to know that. “Before my birth, my family bounced between territories too.” He said, finding a piece of common ground between them. “But my Father’s… ambitions, earned us a permanent place to call home. We live in the North, just beyond the wall- if you run into carcasses littered across a border, you’re there.” His lips curled into a smirk- would this male find their choice of decor morbid?

Shifting slightly, he leaned in toward the fire, the last embers of daylight dipping below the horizon. “The basin,” He said, shifting the topic of conversation. “Who is it for?” Not that it mattered, really- he was just curious.

"Zagan Saxe"