The feeling of being hunted, being tracked, being chased down... it was inescapable. Iscariot carried the weight on her shoulders, or at least, she had until now. Bringing trouble to the Syndicate's doorstep wasn't going to be on her head. She wasn't going to be the tipping point, the reason for them losing their foothold. A scorned traveling companion, a man who thought himself a lover, a man who meant nothing in the grand scheme of things... he'd been after her. He'd been after the girl, and he'd nearly gotten to her. Nearly. Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, and Iscariot was similar only to the latter. Doubling back, she'd thrown the bastard from her scent and turned the hunter into the hunted. Bounty hunter by trade, it wasn't difficult, though the process was tedious. It had taken time, far more than she would have liked. Still, Iscariot wasn't going to be the liability. She'd handled things herself, and made short work of that greasy fuck when the time came. Returning to the Syndicate after time had passed, slipping back into life as normal. Iscariot blends back to the world she'd left as if nothing was wrong, as if nothing had happened. Pretending nothing had happened, and that she's fine. Physically, she is. The girl simply takes up watch over the Sound in her usual spot, watching the Belugas within the Sound. A calf from earlier this year is looking far larger, far healthier than before. One of the older members of the pod trails behind, some of its vitality sapped away. Fidgeting idly with the wolf vertebrae on a newly crafted necklace, Iscariot simply sits. Watches. Studies.

table coding by bunni ♥

Walking along the rocky inlet of The Polar Sound, Sephiran is following the scent of a phantom.

That morning, Iscariot’s perfume suddenly reappeared within the territory, mingling with the briny scent of sea and pinewood. How long had it been since he last saw her? Weeks? Months? Seasons? Truthfully, Sephiran had been losing track of time- more often than not, he was teetering on the edge of psychosis, consumed by restless energy and lost in the labyrinth of his own, twisted mind. If it were not for Rhazien, Sephiran would be completely ungrounded by now, losing himself in his depravities. His Uncle was the only force keeping him at bay.

Rhazien’s influence was also Riot’s saving grace- if it had not been for his conversation with Sephiran, the Sultan would have met Iscariot with unrelenting, vicious violence, seeing her absence as a betrayal worthy of punishment. Do. Not. Exacerbate. Fragility.

Instead, he chooses to approach her with a look of disappointment, coming to stand beside her as she sits on her perch. He towers over her, exuding his usual air of dominance, commanding her attention and the visceral impulse to obey. He does not say anything yet- he simply waits, assessing for her reaction, to see if she has come to repent, or disobey.

"Speech"

Code by Sea

Sephiran appears, not letting Iscariot alone for long. The girl is well aware he's going to be angry, a wrath she'd take off the chin. Her reaction is stoic, gaze only leaving the Sound when the belugas fade from view. While his expression is meant to invoke a particular reaction, Iscariot refuses to crumble under the look alone. She's stony, a chill that doesn't break. When her gaze does shift to Sephiran, it's careful. Searching. The man has never been the most stable, but if she's lucky, he'll be reasonable here. "You know I wouldn't have gone without a good reason, right?" The words are quiet, her tone careful. Beseeching, but careful. "I was being hunted. I wasn't going to draw a threat like that to the pack." She won't beg, only explain. "It's neutralized, now." Iscariot shifts uncomfortably, wincing as her bruised shoulder and barely-closed neck wound pull under her pale coat.

table coding by bunni ♥

When her explanation comes, Sephiran listens. However, the intense, domineering expression on his face does not fade, nor does the hint of disgust that’s etched into the creases of his features. In fact, he feels another surge of bitter, gut-wrenching betrayal course through him, igniting every muscle fiber until he’s grown rigid beside her. The tension between them grew more palpable, the charged atmosphere causing his pelt to bristle and his lips to twitch. “Hunted by a threat?” He questions, glaring down at her, watching her with an ever-assessing eye. “Do you doubt my capabilities as a Sultan, Iscariot?” His tongue clicks inside of his maw, sliding across the roof of his mouth to hold a snarl at bay. “You thought I would not protect you?” A short pause. “That the pack would not protect you?” Did she view him as incompetent? Did she view her packmates as weak? “Or did you truly believe you had to face this monster on your own?” A question, and a moment to redeem herself- because right now, Sephiran still saw her departure as a betrayal... and her explanation offended him.

"Speech"

Code by Sea