Me and the Devil
His anger for his father had dissipated, slowly but surely, until all that remained was a raw soreness that ached whenever he thought of the great beast of a man. He wondered if he could do his father’s pack justice with Erövrare and bitterly reminded himself that Acere had already taken his youngest siblings to live in Abaven rather than stand beside him.
He sat beside the glowing pool, scrying for meaning in the swirling blue and silver colors, hoping for…What exactly? Permission from his father? A blessing from his ancestors? He couldn’t say, he simply watched the kaleidoscopic display, and allowed his thoughts to wander.
Hannibal continued his lonesome journey as a rogue. Slithering his phantom like form through the thicket of the Soulless Forest towards the shrine. War drums sounded as his pads fell upon the earth with ease. There was no hiding this alabaster beast, beneath the moonshine his white fur seemed to brighten even more then usual. Hannibal had no reason to hide with a fully belly and the wish to meet other natives. The life of a rogue was nice but he was a social creature brought up in a large family of people who rather enjoyed the sound of their own voices. (Himself included.) Thus, the undying silence of being alone day after day was terrorizing the behemoth. The man was a serpentine that must wrap himself within the dramas and goings on of every day life. Without any of that he was merely a shell of a Wolf. Just surviving did not do it for him, at all. The scent of another slithered it's way into the Albino's jaws as he neared the shrine. The moon seemed to reflect off of the already luminous waters causing the clearing to have a rather divine feel to it. Supernatural even. Mis-matched orbs feasted upon the sight before him as he witnessed another Wolf seated at the pool. Hannibal stopped his steps for a good few moments as he took in his surroundings. Parted jaws took in the scents which only included that of stale prey and this male Wolf in front of him. With a nod to himself Hannibal made his way towards the stranger. He moved to also take a seat at the edge of the pool, a few feet to the left of the larger stranger to respect personal space. The phantom took a moment to look downward into the waters and a wave of nostalgia washed over him. Various thoughts of war and suffering came forth, distant memories of his past creeping up in the back of his mind. A bloody picture to painted on such a beautiful night. Hannibal ripped his eyes from the pool and shook away the thoughts before looking towards the stranger. "Haunting, is it not?" The male gestured towards the pool with his dappled nose, "What are you looking for?" His voice was baritone but rolled off the tongue with a certain elegance only confidence could offer. speech action |
He had heard the male’s approach, his ear swiveling to follow the wraith’s movements as he came to sit beside him, but made no immediate attempt to acknowledge him. He remained perfectly still as the male spoke, but at his question Tyranis found a faint smile grace his lips.
“I don’t know actually.” He said calmly, his tone slightly distant as he considered what had brought him to the pool in the first place.“I’m simply admiring what will soon be my territory.” He said with a sly grin, his golden eyes now locked on the mismatched male’s.
“I am Tyranis Praetor, and you’re standing in what will soon be the pack Erövrare.” He declared proudly, is head raised defiantly and his posture shifting to become utterly commanding.
Hannibal's gaze took in the contrasting fur patterns and features of the stranger. Shamelessly absorbing those yellow eyes and the gentle wisps of white beneath them. Even the feint smile was caught and consumed with an undying hunger to admire. Hannibal fantasized about a beautiful world with all lovely things surrounding him. The aesthetic of the glowing pool illuminating both of their large and handsome forms was something of his fondest dreams. The beasts mind painted pretty pictures but they were often tainted by blood and gore not before long. Thus, he learned to take in tiny moments like these. The phantom listened as baritone vocals filled the air. Bouncing off of the pool and into black and white ears. His tail curled around the right side of his body as he sat up straight. The curious gaze never left the stranger as more delicious tones were emitted. Hannibal seemed to perk up ever so slightly as such a declaration was revealed. This stranger will soon claim the very land they sat upon as his own, for a pack it would seem. Hannibal raised a brow in silent response before a name was revealed, for both the Wolf and the pack he aspired for. Tyranis Praetor. The partially albino male repeated the name within his mind, hopefully memorizing it. A sickening smile curled across pale lips as Hannibal graced the confident stranger with his own song. "Nothing is more exhilarating then a King finding his throne." Hannibal thought back to the first time he sat in front of his Kingdom back home. Taking over his father's reign of the Klein Empire and commanding his people. The thoughts sent shivers down his spine before he came back to reality and eyed Tyranis. "Tell me of this Erövrare, Tyranis." The serpentine leaned forward with a curious gaze. What crown did this male wear? One of crimson or one of bone? Hannibal sought after a pack but only one in which he suited. It was easy for the phantom to blend but he truly wished to rise. If he were truly witnessing the foundation of a new Kingdom this was a good of a chance as any to renew his sense of worth and perhaps even gain some power the beasty itched for. speech action |
He smiled, pleased by the male’s inquiry, the way he carried himself and the way he spoke hinted at a man who did as he pleased and suffered no consequences, the very kind of wolf that Erövrare would favor.
“The name means ‘Conqueror’ or so my son tells me.” He explained, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched the male for signs of interest. “It will be a home for the strong, who will not suffer to care for the needs of the weak.” He explained further, his gaze hardening with steeled resolve as he mentally rolled over the laws he wished to enforce in his kingdom once it rose.
“Position is based on skill and the opinion of others, ranks will either be earned or elected into, a pack for the people, one that follows no bloodline but rather follows the strong.” They had been traits he had tried to enforce when he was a boy king and Dauntless had risen, but now he was a man, fully grown and righteously strong. No one would cross him, no one would challenge his will, no one would undermine his laws, simply out of fear for their strong leader.
“And of course, strong wolves take what they desire without the fear of recourse. Food, mates, resources, even slaves.” He let the word hang between them in the empty air, slavery was a delicate subject for most wolves but Tyranis saw no reason why the strong shouldn’t dominate if not own the weak. The question now was whether or not Hannibal would agree.
“Tell me, where do your strengths lie?” He asked boldly, his eyes all but glowing in the dim light of the moon, and the faint glow of the pool before them.
Hannibal was born and bred to sit upon a crimson throne. War, combat, leadership, and strategy had all been ingrained within his mind from day one. His father the longterm Emperor of the Klein Empire handed down the crown to his prized son, Hannibal, upon his coming age. Not long after he took the throne their was a famine that destroyed the Kingdom inwardly and forced them to relocate. Due to the guilt Hannibal took it upon himself to search for new lands to spread his seed and build up a new Kingdom for his family to flourish. Perhaps some that survived starvation and disease would follow. But, as of right now the male was alone and wanted nothing more then to find a sense of worth again. Perhaps this Erövrare was the answer. Strong vocals filled the air and Hannibal ate them up. His ears flicked with each syllable and those mismatch eyes remained locked onto Tyr's own. Conqueror. A term Hannibal's father was once referred to as. A simple nod would be seen in response, the beast was rather interested at this point. When the darker Wolf spoke it seemed like he was reciting from the Klein family's personal handbook. Only the strong would rise in rankings. You had to prove yourself to get anywhere, even if you were of blood. Hannibal had to personally punish and banish many of his kin due to their disgustingly lazy ways. If you did not aid the Empire in some way you had no reason to be included within its ranks. If Hannibal hadn't already been sold on the idea of this Pack he now was with Tyr's next words. “And of course, strong wolves take what they desire without the fear of recourse. Food, mates, resources, even slaves.” Salivating lips curled into a sickening smirk as he heard those delightful words. Hannibal took what he wished without looking back. If he wanted to mate he would mate. If he wanted to eat he would eat. And if he wanted to claim he would claim. Within the Empire they had numerous slaves and servants. His favorite being a little fae named Baalat. She was an albino girl similar to himself who obeyed his every command. A twinge of pain would bubble within his chest as he thought of her demise to the famine. Though, as he shook those thoughts. "You speak my language, Tyranis." His voice was laced with venom as he thought of the endless opportunities such a pack would have to offer. The next tones slipped into his ears and Hannibal sat up ever so slightly. His voice now a bit more stern as the attention was seemingly pinpointed onto himself. "Firstly, I am Hannibal Iber Klein." His head dipped downward in a rather polite bow as he introduced himself. Perhaps one day that name would be known throughout these lands. As his slender head raised upward once again the behemoth continued, "I am an able bodied hunter and warrior, trained to defend myself and others. But, my strengths truly lie within my ability to lead. I was the rightful heir to my father's throne and leadership was drilled into my core from day one. Pack management, discipline, and strategy is what I excel in." Of course this was all talk and Hannibal would need to prove himself of these claims, but he spoke nothing but the truth. With a bit of freshening up the phantom would make a great leader. But, he was surely fine with rising up the ranks to show his worth. "I have no ties to these lands and I am nothing but a foreigner to the natives. I can be yours to do with as you please in order to build this mighty Kingdom, Tyranis." As long as the male was free to do as he pleased Hannibal would enjoy nothing more then to forge a pack with this male. He had nothing to lose and there was nowhere to go but up. speech action |
His eyes lit with delight in the darkness. “Then perhaps one day you will lead my wolves.” A smile curled his lip at the thought, although Astraios was his heir he expected him to fight for his role just as much as the others. It was a blind tease to the man, for Tyranis never believed that Astraios would be voted out from his rank. Hannibal swore fealty to him and the lightning king’s head rose with satisfaction. He liked the way the man spoke; it made something rise in him that he’d never felt before. The few mates Tyranis had were always equal to him and worthy of his status, no one had ever openly submitted to him the way Hannibal did now, even the plaintive lambs of Ruina had never beguiled as much strength as the man before him did now, and yet he all but bowed before his black paws.
“ Hannibal Iber Klein” He said commandingly, his teeth still flashing in a wide grin. “I accept you as a member of Erövrare. In a few days you will find me on the battle field, calling together my supporters, or if you wish you may stay here and patrol these lands to ensure no one trespasses.” It was almost hard for Tyranis to believe mere days stood between him and raising his pack, it had felt as though all of Autumn had been spent gathering a following and planning out what the changes he would bring to his new pack.
Hannibal thirsted for power at all times, his jaws salivated at the thought of sitting his rump upon a glistening throne. Though, his slithering thoughts twisted the endless opportunities this new pack gave him. Could Hannibal rise in ranks just enough to gain power but not the stress a crown came with? Perhaps a beta position would suffice for the former Emperor. There was no reason for the partially-albino male to claw at the heir position just yet. There was plenty of time for the behemoth to expose his strengths to this soon to be King and Tyranis will surely make these decisions as he sees fit. Hannibal would eventually command but what title he may end up with only time will tell. For now, the phantom was merely a pawn for Tyranis to use in the formation of his pack. A vital piece in this elaborate game they all played. The Klein male took in the baritone vocals of his taller 'companion'. A smile stained pink lips as he further took in the dark form of this opposing Wolf. Mismatch eyes were curiously invading Tyr's own, taking in each flicker of emotion he may find. Hannibal's gaze had a hint of desire lurking within it's depths before more commanding tones were emitted. His name graced the ebony jowls of Tyranis and Hannibal let a luxurious grin sweep across his lips in response. Deviant thoughts were interrupted as the tone seemed get a tad bit more serious. Tyranis officially accepted Hannibal into Erövrare. The phantom stood up straight once again with a firm nod. His silky grin never leaving as he thought over Tyr's final words. With a little flick of his tail Hannibal emitted his own illustrious tones, "I will lurk within these lands to both patrol and search for a suitable den before the masses take claim to all the decent ones." A very slight chuckle could be heard before he continued. "Although I could not fathom the thought of missing the historical day in which Tyranis Praetor officially forms the mighty Erövrare." Hannibal flashed a desire riddled smirk with an attempt at an alluring look. "Therefore expect my presence on the battlefield and I shall anticipate the summon during these exciting days until then." The phantom's elaborate mind painted such a grand illustration of Tyranis forging his own iron crown upon the battlefield and marching his masses to the shrine to lay claim to his rightful territory. speech action |