She had released a summons minutes ago, awaiting her audience. Absinth stood at the center of the clearing, her sleek ivory fur catching the dappled light filtering through the forest canopy. Springtime filled her nares as footsteps arrived one by one. Her sharp eyes scanned the gathered wolves – her offspring and a few others drawn by curiosity. Ravens flitted through the trees above, their black feathers glimmering like obsidian as they took their positions, ready to relay any disturbances as was her duty even while she began this new lesson.

“Perception. Do you know how far it can take you?” She began, her voice a blend of cool authority and subtle menace. Perfectly Absinth. “It’s just one of the lenses through which we view the world. Not only what we see, but how we interpret what we see. Sometimes, it’s the difference between living and dying.” The smart, the cunning, the strong lived through their own power. The weak bumbled about life, surviving on luck and coddling – she would not see her children even come close to that shit.

She paused, letting her words sink in. “Let’s simplify it. Consider the forest around us. To some, it’s a fucking paradise. Prey, shelter. To others, it’s a death trap. The bears, and us, the Syndicate. Both views are right, depending on how you look at it. Your reality will never exactly match another’s.” Of course it wouldn’t. No two could ever have the same experiences, the same thoughts, and that was the fine line they could either exploit or fall victim to.

Absinth moved fluidly, her steps measured and deliberate, as she circled the group. Her gaze met each of her student’s attentive orbs, a grin splitting her maw as she continued. “Our perceptions are shaped by our experiences. You’d do well to understand how to use it to your advantage. A skilled hunter sees the forest differently than a clueless pup. A wolf who’s won battles sees fights differently than one who has only known defeat.” This lesson would be one for the thinkers and one for the fighters of the group.

"Absinth Artemisia Inferos"

Flare had entered the Syndicate world, and had been offered the chance to broaden his horizons. He would take what experiences Absinth could share. He knew he would need them to face the challenge the Sultan had left him.

When Absinth called a lesson, he attended. Taking a seat and listening to her words on perception. Taking in the world around them. He was a wolf who’s life had been on the line enough to understand that missing a moment could kill him. So he listened, hearing what Absinth could add to the topic.
Experiences truly were everything, and he was moving to ad new ones to his repertoire, even now.


"Speech"

Those spindly little legs carried him with as much speed as he could muster, following the last traces of his mother's echoing summons. He enjoyed the lessons, drank up whatever wisdom he could lay his greedy digits on without shame. He'd enjoyed the first one, on the merits of cultivating personal strength. What was he going to learn today? Ebon form cutting through undergrowth and shade like the ravens that trailed after him, unassuming and plain to look upon. By the time he reached her, there was someone else present. An unfamiliar male. Not his father. Dark auds tipped back towards his skull, pale gaze narrowing as he looked over the titanic figure lingering around his mother. Lean, scarred. Like his mother. Touched with hints of flame, like his father and siblings. His scent was wrong, though. No traces of familiarity, and some hints of.. outside. The lingering undercurrents that came from elsewhere, like sea salt and strange earth. He didn't like this man. Didn't want him near his mother. Brow furrowed, tail lowering as he picked his way close to his mother's pale form, making a point to settle as close to her as propriety within the lesson would allow. Defending her from this stranger. When she began to speak, as the rest of his siblings and cousins began to trickle in, he gazed up at her with the kind of rapt, unbreaking attention that would force weaker souls to falter. The importance of perception, and the variability of it. Obsidian ears shoved forwards, absorbing it all readily. He had never considered the differences of perception in life, that those around him might not see the world the way that he did. Why would he have considered it? He was a toddler, essentially. So the gears in his mind were already turning. Flipping this new development over onto its head and turning it inside out while his mother explained. Never.. an exact match? Not even with his siblings? His littermates, who had shared most of their first moments together? How strange! "speech"

When mother’s call rang out within the pines, Abyss was walking along the eastern shore, collecting stones with their raven companion. They’d compiled a small pile of stones, wanting to save them for a later project. They wanted to keep searching, but mother was calling. They couldn’t ignore her summons.

Looking to their companion, they share a moment of silent communication. Don’t let anyone take these stones. The raven caws and clicks its beak, signifying its compliance before Abyss takes off into the forest.

They arrive shortly after one of their littermates, stopping to settle near Indica and shifting their attention to their mother. She was teaching them about perception- its meaning and importance. Abyss’ ears perk forward, a look of interest gleaming in their eyes. Their reality would never match someone else’s. An interesting concept.

"Abyssinica"

Zagan’s tall, elongated ears perked up at the sound of Mother Absinth’s voice, her summons resonating through the Sparse Pines, commanding those who wished to learn forward. The Saxe prince, being ever curious and driven by his thirst for knowledge and power, turned on his heels and loped through the forest, heeding her call. His raven was soaring behind him, and his panther was hot on his heels, slowing its lope to allow him to be in front.

Zagan arrives shortly after Abyss, and he places himself close to Absinth, boasting his supremacy as a Saxe child. He glances at his adoptive siblings, acknowledging them but his attention is primarily focused on Absinth. Today, she is teaching them about perception- a concept she’d touched on when he asked her about his raven companion.

Leaning forward in his seat, Zagan absorbs every word, every concept. He thought of his experiences, wondering how they would shape him as he grew into adulthood.

"Speech"

Fuck, momma had another lesson. Why didn't she want to go? She wanted to learn but she didn't WANT to go! Xina pulled her white paws from the bark of the tree she was pretending to maul and zig-zagged her way through the trees and rocks toward Absinth's call.

She scowled as she saw the stranger, how dare he have a firey pelt! That was HER and Daddy's Gig! She came just as her mother was beginning the lesson. Xina hung in the back, knowing that she wasn't allowed to pounce on anyone's tail during a lesson or be a bother, or else she'd be kicked out of the group. But she just couldn't sit still! She took instead to silently circling one of the narrow trunks of a tree hopefully out of sight of her siblings. While she circled it was like her brain could focus on her mother's words properly. Oh! She was talking about how everyone had different perspectives! Like how dummy Zagan thought he was always better than everyone else. As long as Xina watched her paws and kept moving she was able to absorb her mother's lesson!

Ludovic strolled into the clearing with an easy, confident gait, his mismatched eyes casually taking in the scene. He paid little mind to the focused expressions on the faces of the others gathered, his attention completely attuned to Absinth’s authoritative voice. He leaned against a tree, the light casting a glow on his fiery red and monochrome fur. His gaze focused and observant.

Absinth’s words reached his ears, a lesson on perception, survival, and the divergent realities of their world. Ludovic’s ears flicked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as she spoke of how perceptions were shaped by experience. He liked that. The opportunity to be... different.

As Absinth continued, Ludovic’s gaze wandered to the ravens above, their sleek black forms a great contrast to the vibrant spring foliage. Their roles as sentinels amused him; even the birds were woven into this intricate web of vigilance and power.

ludoviciana

Ravana sat silently among the gathered wolves, her caramel fur shimmering with lavender highlights as the sunlight filtered through the trees above. She watched her mother, Absinth, with a blend of admiration and interest. The lesson promised to be intriguing, and Ravana's sharp mind was ready to absorb every word.

As Absinth spoke of perception, Ravana's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. She understood the importance of how one viewed the world. Her own experiences, though few in number compared to her mother's, had already taught her that perspective could be a powerful tool. She recalled her fascination with the lifeless rabbit, how she had dissected it with meticulous precision, seeking to understand the mysteries of life and death. Absinth's words resonated with her, especially the part about reality differing for each individual. She prided herself on seeing things others might overlook, understanding nuances that escaped the less perceptive.

The mention of skilled hunters and battle-hardened wolves struck a chord with Ravana. She aspired to be both – a hunter with a keen eye and a warrior with the strength to dominate. Her mother's lesson was clear: perception was a weapon, and she intended to wield it with precision.

ravana

He refused to be late to any meeting, to any lesson, to any thing- yet here he was falling behind! He wouldn't allow himself to be so late that he was punished and so he pushed himself, ran until his lungs ached and his legs tingled, until breath came heavy from parted lips and he broke through the trees to where Absinth had called them from. Others gathered, but was it everyone? He didn't stop to notice and hurried to collect himself with the group just as Absinth began to speak her first words. Too late. Early was the only answer. And this was not early.

Catching his breath as quietly as he could in the gathering of siblings and packmates and ravens, he listened intently, focusing on steadying his breath and listening to his wise, powerful, strong mother. She knew everything, he was certain of it. And what she might not know, Aresenn did. Together, they were unstoppable and they were his. Too bad he had to share with his bratty siblings and the sultans spawn.

Mother was circling them now and his ominous gaze followed her for as wide as his neck could crane before switching to continue tracking her. His scruff was beginning to get in the way a bit, but even he knew it would benefit him in future spars and fights and maims. His throat was practically hidden behind excess skin and fur- and advantage his siblings didn't have. This lesson was about perception though, not personal strengths and weaknesses with what good breeding got you.

As his breathing finally settled into a calm pace he remained quiet, intently listening to the lesson and soaking it all in like a dry sponge. He wouldn't interrupt and would save his questions until the end, or until prompted. He wasn't about to be punished for speaking out of turn after very nearly being late, nope nope nope.

"Speech!"


CODE © SKELLE. DO NOT USE WITHOUT PERMISSION
TOP DIVIDER © NIGHTLIGHT-LULLABY & BOTTOM DIVIDER © MELDSHERLOVESFOXES

Xairo had stayed at the back of the gathered pack, soaking in the words of his mother. The large cerulean pup had settled beside a large rock, his dark eyes veiled with thoughtful quietude as he listened to Absinth's every word. He had always admired the strength and wisdom his mother possessed, the way she held the entire Syndicate in her intimidating yet graceful paws. His gaze never strayed from her, the gleaming ivory of her fur seeming to shine in the dappled light filtering through the surrounding trees.

As Absinth moved around them, the young wolf's ears perked up, catching every inflection in her voice as she began to share her wisdom. His mind whirled, processing each word in the silence that followed her speech. Perception. It was a concept he had been introduced to before, but not with such depth and complexity. It was not simply about seeing, but understanding. Reading the subtle cues in the environment, reacting to the unspoken languages of the world around them, discerning truths masked by shadows. It was about understanding beyond what was shown and said.

"Xairo Saxe"

Sericea listened to her mother intently. Her acidic green eyes shimmering, reflecting the wisdom of her mother’s teachings. She sat at the forefront of the gathered siblings, a little off to the side- her posture poised and straight, radiating a calm assurance that even her youth couldn't dispel. She lived for these lessons, even if they left her with more questions than answers. She tried to focus on each word, each sentence that dripped off Momma’s tongue, rolling them over in her young mind like precious gems. Perception was the gift of understanding, she mused. It was more than just sight or hearing, but the ability to interpret and draw conclusions from the information presented before them. A tool for survival, a weapon as deadly as their fangs and claws could be.

"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"

Absinth’s voice drawled slightly, yet the intensity of her words remained. “Every encounter, every struggle, every fucking moment you endure molds your perception. You will never stop learning, adapting. Honing your instincts, sharpening your senses – arming yourself with the tools you need to not only survive, but to thrive.” Her eyes glimmer with amusement as her tail lashes behind her, a low rumble building in her chest as she approves of the audience before her.

She paced slowly, her sleek ivory fur catching the dappled sunlight, her commanding presence just as bright. Her steps were measured, each one deliberate, as she circled the group of young wolves. Her gaze landed on each one, her piercing eyes scrutinizing them with a mix of expectation and challenge.

“You must see beyond the obvious, anticipate the unseen, all the while exploiting the weaknesses of others.” She continued. “The way they carry themselves, if there is a slight lean to their step; perhaps an old wound giving them trouble. Maybe it’s the way their eyes fall lower than yours, indicating they internally believe themselves lower than you.”

As she spoke, she paused in front of a couple of her pups, her striking emerald eyes meeting theirs with a fierce intensity. “These advantages are all around you, just like the crackle of an old tree, waiting for a single strong gust of wind to fell it. These… tells, these signs are as handy in battle as they are in daily life.”

Her gaze then shifted to the other’s of her brood, a spark of mischief there. Absinth gave a slight nod of approval at their attentiveness before moving on, her expression softening momentarily as she glanced at Flare. Her lips curled into a proud, almost defiant grin, a silent message of how far she had come.

Absinth’s gaze hardened as she continued her circuit, her steps fluid and purposeful. “But beware, perception can also be a weapon turned against you. Misinterpretation can lead to fatal mistakes. Falling for a lie, or seeing what someone wants you to see are all ways the tables can be turned on you.” Absinth paused, letting her words sink in before adding with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “If I wanted my enemy to see me weak and vulnerable, I will let them see – right before I rip their throat out for getting too close out of overconfidence. So again. Always question, always analyze, and always be ready to change your perspective when necessary.”

"Absinth Artemisia Inferos"

Around and around and around Xina's walked the sapling, her golden eyes on her paws. Her ears caught and coalesced every word attentively. Everything that happens can mold her perception, which means that other's perceptions are molded by their experiences too. That made sense.

She turned the other way, walking around and around and around. Observing the way others around her walked and responded was going to be her tell to best them.

She paused and met her mother's gaze for a moment as she mentioned to beware that perception can be used against them too. She continued her silent pacing, carving a trail at the base of the tree. This was going to be a lesson she'll never forget.

Flare gave a small portion of his attention to the other wolves that entered. Amused to realise most that attended her lesson were children. If scents weren’t betraying them, some of them were her own. He flicked his ear back to Absinth, taking in what she said as she went on to talk about encounters and perception.

The pale wolf circled her students, and Flare followed her with an eye and a subtle flick of his head. When her gaze landed on him, he returned the amused smirk. Yes, yes, she had made a life for herself. He could see that. She continued on, and he found himself inclinding his head subtly. Yes, misinterpretation was a double edged blade. Fun to use, terrible to have turned against you.




"Speech"

Everything, even the most mundane, thoughtless encounters and actions, molded your perception. Learning, adapting, sharpening one's instincts, honing your senses- these skills were ever-evolving, and were tools used to arm oneself against the trials and tribulations of life. Zagan nodded, storing Absinth’s teachings in his mind- from now on, he would try to see purpose in every interaction, he would strive to learn and grow, to become the most powerful Sultan the Saxe family has ever seen.

But perception could easily become a weapon turned against you. Now, Zagan was interested. But how? Absinth went on to explain- misinterpretation could lead to fatal mistakes- falling for ploys, and allowing yourself to be manipulated. Zagan’s lips twitched into a sneer - the thought of an enemy manipulating him made him angry.

"Zagan Saxe"

Perception was a deeper concept than Abyss had imagined. Every encounter, conversation, though would mold someone’s perception- but whether that was used as a tool or a weakness, was up to the wielder. Abyss nodded their head, adding the information to their mind, while flipping through memories of their prior experiences to analyze what had played a role in molding their perception thus far. Mother’s lessons played a crucial role, much of their knowledge coming straight from her- as it should be. Mother was a powerful, admirable force to be reckoned with.

Anticipate the unseen, and exploit the weaknesses of others. Abyss would hone their assessment skills, so they could analyze their enemies before creating a proper plan of action. But beware. These perceptions could quickly morph into misinterpretations- meaning, Abyss needed to be thorough in their assessments, to avoid being exploited by an enemy. They nodded, agreeing with their Mother. They never wanted to be exploited or weak.

"Speech"

The rest of the veritable army of youngsters piled into the lesson, all eager to cosy up to their mother (or aunty, in some cases) and learn what she knew. Indeed, Absinth was a pillar of strength that was worthy of envy- an idealized figure to emulate. She was quick to continue her lesson, to insist that with each new interaction they would be creating and altering their perception of the world around them. It was a way to adapt without having to physically alter their forms, instead honing instincts and sharpening their senses. This would be their key to succeed in the world, instead of merely scraping by. So as she circled the group of children, as she had in lessons prior, the dark furred boy held her gaze evenly and met the expectant stare with an inquisitive, demanding expression of his own. He wanted to know it all, and he wasn't going to be shy about it. His mother demanded that he be careful and scrupulous, to assess each individual as a collection of traits. To anticipate things that had yet to come, and to seek out the weaknesses in those around them for exploitation later. Subtle things like changes in gait or the way the eyes of strangers fell upon or away from him, cues of weakness or inferiority. Ivory tipped tail swished against his thigh excitedly, eager to begin using these skills to improve his placement in the world around him. He watched her attention fall to his other siblings, the ones who found themselves leaning to the art of battle already. Imparting useful tactics for turning a faltering landscape to their advantage. And then her attention was back to the remainder of the children, and that strange adult who he didn't know. A fateful warning escaped Absinth then, that they ought to beware the possibility of their perceptions being manipulated. That they could easily misinterpret the ways the world and its inhabitants moved around them. They could become victims of lies, to be handed a version of reality that a stranger would rather they see, and suddenly be at their mercy. The boy's features screwed up in a small scowl, fangs bared at the notion of becoming someone's victim. The pale fae doubled down on her cautionary tale, assuring the children that if she were keen to have someone else see her as weak or in some way lesser, she would allow it. Only so that she could slaughter them for their ignorance. As she should, in the boy's mind at least. She'd more than earned the right to kill anyone who would question her might. He nodded lightly in agreement with her reiterated warning to be on guard, to question the motives of those around him. Yes, that was smart, and he wanted to be a smart boy. "speech"

Ludovic studied Absinth, his gaze following her every movement, his mind quietly dissecting the lesson she imparted. Every nuance she spoke of, every tell she described, held a weight that he knew could shift the balance in his favor when needed.

He saw the value in her examples, the subtle signs that spoke louder than any boast. The slight limp that hinted at a weakness, the flicker of doubt in an opponent’s eyes, even the smallest hesitation—these were insights he could wield, silent weapons that would let him anticipate threats before they materialized. Her words sharpened his awareness, tuning his instincts to catch the vulnerabilities he could exploit.

The concept of manipulating perception intrigued him. Letting others see what he wanted them to see—a carefully crafted facade, bait for the overconfident. He could see it so clearly: luring an enemy in, only to turn the tables. It was a strategy that required patience, calculation, and control—all things he knew he could cultivate.

As Absinth circled the group, the boy smirked, mismatched gaze a bit harder—more confident.

ludoviciana

Ravana’s gaze held a deep, unsettling fascination, absorbing each of Absinth's words like a dark scripture. Her mind took in every detail, dissecting her mother’s instruction as meticulously as one would peel away the skin of a rabbit—stripping it to understand the workings within. Weakness, missteps, the slight tremble or lean… she’d noted these in prey, but to see it in wolves, in those who could think, scheme, and fall victim to themselves—that was thrilling.

She understood. Perception, oh, how it could cut as deep as any claw, twist in ways that no muscle ever could. Ravana’s lips curled ever so slightly, almost a ghost of a smile, as she pictured the art of keeping herself always in control.


"Ravana Seraphim Saxe"

As Xairo listened to his mother's lesson, his mind turned over each concept, examining it from every angle. Perception was a multi-faceted tool, one that could be honed and sharpened with experience and keen observation. It went beyond mere sight or hearing - it was about reading between the lines, discerning the unspoken truths that lurked beneath the surface.

Xairo's dark gaze followed Absinth as she circled the group, her ivory fur gleaming in the dappled light. He absorbed her words about how every encounter and struggle shaped one's perception, how it was an ever-evolving process of learning and adapting. His young mind grasped the importance of this - in a world filled with danger and deception, the ability to see beyond the obvious could mean the difference between life and death.

When Absinth spoke of exploiting the weaknesses of others, of reading the subtle cues in body language and demeanor, Xairo's ears pricked forward with interest. He could see the value in this skill, how it could give him an edge in any confrontation. But he also understood the warning his mother imparted - that perception could very easily be a double-edged sword.

"Xairo Saxe"