Here Lies A Fool

*Cormalin* · 06-17-2013, 09:59 PM

Cormalin

Cormalin padded over the sand, keeping his nose locked into the scent that was Azalea, their new heir. There was another scent with hers that her own overlayed which troubled him. Azalea was still young, and hadn?t reached physical maturity in size and weight. The scent he caught other than hers was male, the maturity in it a musky tang of testosterone. He picked up his pace, breaking into a smooth trot, black fur rippling under the light slipstream, arriving in time to hear the male?s hiss directed at the Valhallan Heir. He kept the growl that wanted to rise from his chest silent, face solemn and expressionless as he approached.

Cormalin stepped to Azalea?s side, towering above her as his mismatched gems of sapphire and gold locked onto the strangers? form. The male had turned away, still speaking. ?Purity of blood makes no wolf superior. Especially out here in Alacritis. And kindly mind your tongue while speaking to the Heir of Valhalla.? His heavily furred tail swept to gesture at the young female at his side. Her anger toward the one with the superiority complex was there then gone. He was pleased that she hadn?t let herself be drawn into a fight. And even if she had, if the male had hurt her in any way, the whole of Valhalla would have fallen upon the male?s head.

?These lands are ones of change. If you are the rightful Lord of the Serpent?s Graves, then why are you not there in that land, leading the wolves there? Why are you here , instead?? There was no rancor in his baritone voice, merely conversational tones of mild interest.

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