Araxina leads her new pet away from the mines and northward. The smell of decaying bodies would hit them before a line of discarded half-rotten prey, predators, and wolves came into view. Araxina would lead Jiro through the line, hardly acknowledging it or turning her nose at it. A fact of life for her, every pack marked their borders like this, didn't they?

As she crossed the border she called out high and loud. Namely for one of her parents but if someone of higher rank wanted to see what she brought the pup wouldn't mind at all!

As they came within a more comfortable spot within the borders, Xina plopped on her rump and ran a back foot over an itch behind her ear.

"All right Freckles," She started, one eye squinting against the feeling of the itch getting scratched, "First rule, no calling me princess within earshot of anyone else around here. You can call me that when it's just us though." She sent him a teasing smirk before she shook her fur out with a full body shake.

"Second rule-" She started, proceeding to groom her fur into a luxurious shine, "Well really it's the first-first rule-" She muttered to him, "everybody here outranks you now, but above all don't piss off anyone who's even remotely purple. Respect the Saxe name and maybe you'll keep your pretty hide on your body, or you might join some old friends at the border." She flared her firey fur with a shake of her head, ready to present herself and her very own Sidi to whoever came to assist her in solidifying her claim, hopefully, a parent. She was especially excited to see the look on Dracun's and Zagan's faces when they learned of her feat.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Jiro followed at a lazy pace. Large paws stretching out as shoulders rolled forward and back without hurry. Keeping up with the smaller girl was easy and it wasn't as if she could physically push him north. Really, he was only following because he had been weak and she'd bested him. If his father knew, he would tell him to man up and pay the price for playing stupid games. And isn't this what he wanted? An adventure? To seek out the world and what it included? To be away from the oppression of the bamboo?

He was starting to think twice when the wall of carrion came into view. His whole face wrinkled into a look of disgust as he turned his nose upward, trying to keep clean scented air in his nasal passages. What kind of pack did she live in? Who did this? Avoiding looking at the carcasses as much as possible, he stares ahead, occasionally looking down at her to silently admire her bravado and confidence. Someone was clearly fluffing this girl's ego for a reason.

When she pulls up and plops herself down, Jiro relaxes a smidge and looks down at her, chin tilted to his chest and a brow raised slightly. Her first rule has his own smirk pulling at obsidian lips. "Awe, does my Inferno Princess not like others knowing she's special?" He teased softly, the rumble of his voice deepening as he moved beside her. In one swift movement, Jiro slid to the ground, rolled onto one hip and watched as she groomed herself until her fur glistened beneath the afternoon sun.

The next rule was interesting. His lips purse as he considers what she's said. "And if they're not purple?" His silver eyes rove over her clearly red frame, insinuating that perhaps she's not as hot shit as she claims to be. Plus, the Saxe name doesn't ring a bell to him. He's lived in the bamboos of Auster for most of his life up until meeting her so anything that went on outside of their dwelling was lost to him. "I suppose then you'll have to point them out to me," Jiro mused, licking at his lips to ease the tension. Stretching out his legs before settling down, he looks around at the pine tree forest wondering who exactly was coming to meet them.

Hattori Jiro

table coding by bunni ♥

His smart-alek remark using his own pet name for her earned him a severe glare.

"I don't know where you're from but In this pack, you don't fuck around. Because you won't live to find out." She snarled. No hint of playful teasing in her tone. If one of the Saxes caught him calling her princess, a title above her station, she was sure that'd be the last strike against her. Zagan might even actually drown her then.

The way his silver eyes smugly ran over her pelt as if to insinuate she wasn't all that shit compared to the Saxes... she raised an eyebrow. She scoffed and turned away. Toward the sound of someone approaching. If he wanted to test the rules that was entirely up to him. She didn't want to lose him to his own stupidity so soon though. She hoped it'd be a parent that came up first, she'd have more of a chance of keeping him then.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

The day had begun as many did for Absinth, a veil of bloodshed from trespassers and predators alike, and the ever-watchful gaze of her ravens. She’d risen before the sun, her sleek ivory coat glinting in the dim light of dawn as she left the den, leaving Aresenn to a few more hours of sleep, her frame prowling through the snowy woods to escape the thoughts she fought off after the death of her son. Her patrols were as methodical as they were precise, every shift of the wind studied, each and every change in the landscape scrutinized. The cries of her ravens sounded from above, sharper than usual, their movements stirring intrigue from her.

Her claws flexed against the frozen ground as her sharp emerald eyes swept the treetops. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, her impish nature always eager for the mysteries the day might offer. Her mind wandered briefly, wondering if her beloved flock had spotted something—or someone unusual.

By midday, she’d found herself near a near-frozen stream, her knives scraping against a flat stone to sharpen them. The satisfying sound of metal on rock was a ring she adored, a ritual as much for her nerves as her weapons. She chuckled softly to herself, the sound low and dark, as she thought of how sharp she could make her tools—and how dull others often were in comparison.

Then came the call. Araxina’s voice. Urgent, threaded with just enough edge to summon Absinth’s curiosity.

She paused mid-motion, her ears swiveling toward the sound. A sly grin spread across her face, and she muttered under her breath, “What mess have you stepped into now, my darling?” Rising smoothly, she slid her blades back into their sheaths and began her approach, her movements fluid and unhurried, though her mind already whirred with possibilities of her little devil.

Her ever-loyal shadows flitted from branch to branch, following like a train of obsidian. They cawed softly, their chatter a private language she had long mastered. She tilted her head in acknowledgment, murmuring to them in return. “Let’s see what’s waiting for us.”

When she emerged from the shadows, she did so elegantly and domineeringly. Her emerald gaze snapped to the scene, first landing on Araxina to check for injury, then sliding to the boy beside her. She took her time looking him over, her eyes narrowing slightly as they swept over his horns, his smug expression, and the insolent glint in his silver eyes.

Her lips twitched into a crooked smirk, equal parts amusement and menace, as she took a step closer. Her body was relaxed, almost languid, but her tail swayed behind her with slow lashes.

“Well,” she drawled, her voice laced with honeyed sarcasm, “it seems you’ve made a friend, Araxina. Hmm?” Her gaze flicked to the boy, and she tilted her head, the gems dangling from her antlers jingling softly. “Though I have to wonder, does he always look this smug, or is today special?” She purred, the words dropping from her lips like venom and honey combined.

Her eyes glinted with mischief as she began to circle him, her steps light, almost playful. She leaned in slightly as she passed his shoulder, her breath brushing his ear. “What name do you go by?” she murmured, her tone a mixture of teasing and threat.

Turning abruptly, she fixed Araxina with a sharp look, though her lips remained curled in that sly, crooked grin. “Xina, my darling,” she said, her voice dripping with affection and firmness, “why exactly have you brought him here? I hope it’s for something entertaining.” Was this a friend to bring into their fold? Could he handle it?

She let the question hang, her gaze sliding back to the boy. This time, her expression hardened, the teasing glimmer in her eyes giving way to something darker. More intensity. She stepped closer, her movements now more like she was stalking prey.

“Tell me,” she said, her voice dropping to a dangerously soft purr, “what use are you? Or should I start guessing?” She leaned back slightly, her head tilted just enough to suggest she was ready to pounce, her tail snapping sharply to one side. Tension crackled, yet her grin never faded.

If nothing else, this strange boy had caught her attention—for now. Whether that was a gift or a curse, only time would tell.

"Absinth Artemisia Inferos"

Her sharpened threat is met with a disinterested raise of his brow. Channeling his father to discreetly hide whatever nervousness he felt, he wondered why she cared to bring him back. If everyone here didn't fuck around, why chance having what was hers stolen by someone close? And while his father may not have killed him for disobeying (which surprised Jiro because gods above he loved to push the envelope), his family pack also did not fuck around. All business, hardly any pleasure, much to Jiro's chagrin. Lame. It was a reason why he had left in the first place, but was this the type of "fun" he had been looking for?

Unusual for Jiro, he doesn't reply, but isn't left waiting much longer. Out from the shadows, a ghostly pale figure with midnight facial features emerges as if she were one with her surroundings. His silver gaze hardens, turning to her as she prowls forward with a finesse he had never seen exuded from a female before. Meeting that stark, poison green gaze had his stomach curled in on itself. That woman could literally kill with looks like that. Was this truly his Inferno Princess' mother? It would appear so by the way they interacted with each other. Interesting.

Her sweet and venomous comment don't go unheard, but he doesn't care to react. No, he's learned enough from his stoic, stony-faced father to know when to keep his poker face. Now was one of those moments. Even when she circles him, predator staring down prey, he stays relaxed, body stretched across the pine needle ground as she slides closer and closer to him. Her question whispered warmly into his ear as both flicking backward for a moment, attempting to dissipate the muggy feeling of moisture sliding into his ear canal.

"Jiro, and you?" He questions in return, feigning honest curiosity and keeping his last name close to his chest for now. No use giving a potential threat ammo for another time. He'd spent enough time away from the bamboo that none of his pack scents lingered anymore - they wouldn't know where he deigned from unless he told them.

Thankful for her gaze to flit away from him and to Xina, Jiro releases a breath he didn't know he was holding in. When had he done that? What the woman says has his breath catching back in his throat and a shiver rolling down his spine. What sort of wolves were they that they questioned each other as such? Entertaining? He was by no means any sort of entertainment for anyone. His eyes narrow slightly, scrutinizing the ivory and obsidian fae until her purring vocals switch back to him.

"I am trained in hunting and healing," Jiro fights through the tension in the air, his muscles coiling, ready to snap in response if she so dared to push boundaries. He wasn't nearly as adept as fighting as his siblings (violence just seemed so uneventful and predictable), he could still defend himself just enough to get by. "If need be, I can provide other things such as protection," his muzzle nods toward his large, bulky frame that seemed to ripple with tense muscle as he shifted further onto his side, half-laying and half-sitting almost.

Hattori Jiro

table coding by bunni ♥

A chattering of ravens forwarns them of her mother's gathering approach. A soothing comforting sound to the fire pelted girl. Xina's ebon tail flutters back and forth for a delightful half moment at the sight of her mother emerging from the frigid woodland. Xina sits up, proud and regal before the scrutiny of her mother's questions and impenetrable gaze.

As her mother started circling the boy, Xina loped aside to watch her mother scrutinize her catch. At Absinth's behest, Xina shimmies her shoulders with a growing pride.

"Oh yes, mother! This will be entertaining I'm sure. I claimed him, I'm the first in the litter to claim her own Sidi, yes?" Her eyes laid on the boy with a wicked glint to her mischievous smile. Golden eyes burrowed into his silver hues. Her lips curled like the Grinch before Christmas Eve. Dark claws gripped the soil with glee. Would her mother be proud?

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Absinth's smirk widened, emeralds glittering with amusement as she observed the boy. She studied him, the subtle stiffening of his muscles, the faint shift in his breathing. But well. She couldn’t know what was going on exactly in that pretty horned skull of his, but expressions and body language were like worn maps—and she knew intimately how to navigate those nuances. He played stoic well, but how well?

“Jiro.” she repeated his name, voice lilting like a songbird; yet edged like a blade. “You know, in some cultures they believe that a short given name implies a short life.” Her head tilted, her expression a mix of coyness and appraisal as she took in his posture, noting his careful composure. Was that a sign of a well-to-do upbringing? A chuckle escaped her, dark and velvety as he mentioned his skills. “Hunter and a healer,” Absinth mused, her gaze dragging over him, looking for hardened edges, looking for scars. “Quite the useful combination. But protection?” Her voice twisted around the word, contorting it—tasting it. “You would protect my daughter? Risk your hide, your blood, if you had to?” Silly words, and what a grand moral code. The monochromatic fae had no reason to believe him, to even begin to understand why he had seemingly chosen to follow little Xina home. He was not beaten black and blue, nor was there a chain around his throat. A bet then? A wager? “Mind you, Xina can take care of herself—so what use is your shallow protection?” She stopped her circling abruptly, her gaze searing into his silver eyes, testing his fortitude. She could have simply nodded and dragged him into the border, but questions required answers. Absinth was full of questions, and even more so brimming with motherly love. “It’s admirable, I’ll admit, if you’re worth the weight of your words.” she continued, her tone dripping with mock sincerity all the while. “I hardly wish to crush my daughters dreams...” The Katil let her voice linger, trailing off as her tail swayed behind her in slow arcs. Enough interrogation. “You’ll have to prove you’re more than an idle body with polite words, though.”

Absinth’s focus shifted to Araxina, her lips twitching into a softer, more affectionate grin than the predatory one she’d given Jiro. Her emerald gaze softened slightly, though the sharpness never quite left them. She’d have to ask her daughter how the boy had been bested, if he knew what a Sidi truly was. “My Xina. So ambitious already. The first to claim a Sidi, are you?” Absinth stepped closer to her daughter, brushing her shoulder heavily with her own in a show of physical warmth, a rougish chuckle snaking out from her lungs. “And here I thought your brothers might have the gall to try first. I should’ve known better.”

She lingered a moment longer, contemplating the best outcome, preparing for the worst. Then, she straightened, stepping back to look at them both. “We don’t tolerate dead weight unless it’s rotting along our borders.” she said, her voice carrying both promise and threat. There was no sugar to coat her words, and she didn’t care to try and scare him with a whole spiel. The smirk never left her face, her paw raising to beckon the boy closer. “Show me you’re worth keeping, Jiro. Let me decide for you. Better I, than the other beasts that call this place home.” That much was certain.


"Absinth Artemisia Inferos"

The dynamic between mother and daughter was peculiar compared to his own upbringing. He watched with subtle curiosity. They made it obvious they cared for each other which was a good thing to Jiro, but the edge that lined the woman’s words still had him sitting on the edge of his seat. Her comment about his name has a sharp breath of hair blowing from his nostrils, his body sitting up straighter instead of laying in a relaxed position.

“My father is cruel. Jiro means second son so perhaps I’ve always been destined for a short life,” his Japanese accent thickens, distaste lining his words as his lip crinkles. It had never bothered Jiro that he was the least favorite, the black sheep. He could care less for such silly things, but did Hattori not have a better sense of humor? Or honor? The blatant disrespect and doubt is what settled an inky black feeling in his heart toward the male.

His eyes flicker to Xina for a moment. Jiro couldn’t deny the slight possessive tinge he already felt for the fireball. Entertaining her on the walk over had been easy. Acting annoyed and insulted by her quips and sass had been easy, even if he could care less. Even if he knew he could easily stomp her into the group if he so wished. “If she wishes, I shall.” Jiro levels his gaze with Absinth, a brow raised slightly at the implication that Xina was capable of protecting herself.

“What use is that she appears far smarter than to waste her own energy fighting her battles when she could have someone do it for her. Is that not what a true princess would do?” His lips tease upward into a smirk as his silver gaze moves to Xina, to se how she reacts to the comment. How far could he push the limit before she snaps? Showing her true colors?

When Absinth turns her attention to Xina for a moment, Jiro takes this moment to stand. At his full height, he nearly has roughly eight inches on the older woman, forcing his chin to tilt downward when he looks at her. Waiting patiently, his form relaxed and lazy as usual, he listens to their short conversation. Hm, maybe that was why Xina had been so keen on taking him? To one up her brothers? Made sense.

Absinth turns her attention back to him, he lifts a brow in response once more. “What shall you have me do? I already insinuated I don’t specialize in fighting,” he inquires, head canting slightly, curious about so many things.

Hattori Jiro

table coding by bunni ♥

She watched how Absinth moved around Xina's prize. Taking careful observant notes of the questions and prodding her mother was subjecting the boy. She watched Jiro in turn as he snapped back with a hasty retort. Hm... She might have to do some training with him so he doesn't snap at someone and she loses her fun toy. She liked his funny little way of speaking. The accent made him special to her now. Her eyes moved to her mother again as she poked about him being some kind of bodyguard, despite his lack of fighting experience. Xina supposed that if he was a good hunter he probably had a good way of killing opponents for her.

Araxina drank in every ounce of her mother's approval. Practically preening like a showy peacock. Of course She would be the first. Who else would even think they could try? She knew all the battle movements and had focused on her skills extensively! Why not test it out by bringing home her own Sidi? Maybe Saphiran might even reward her! Low chance though... He'd probably rather punt her into the caldera.

Her attention then flung to her newfound toy with a harsh narrowing of eyes as he dared to pick up the moniker of Princess and say it out loud. Her fur bristled instantly.

"Mother... I think he needs a lesson in following orders first. I told him he can't call me that here. How do we claim him enough to wash his old pack scent off and keep him in line?" She asked sweetly with a sneer. Her golden eyes locked on his silvers with a dangerous gleam. Soon that inherited hardness might linger in her eyes as much as her mother's.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Lingering near the border, the Saxe Sultan just finished his midday patrol, and was heading toward his neighboring domain. But a call from nearby froze him in place- his eyes scanning the horizon where his dense forest met the unclaimed wilderness- the flutter of wings slicing through the silence, as one of Absinth’s ravens appeared above him. It landed on a boulder beside him, giving a sharp cry that demanded his attention. A foreign wolf was at the borders with one of Absinth and Aresenn’s children. His lips curled into a sneer, his mind racing- what was the girl's reason for summoning a higher-ranked member? For disturbing the Sultan?

He considered ignoring the call, but his grandiosity would never allow it. With a snarl, he sprinted forward, following the raven’s flight path as it led him through the Polar Sound- his domain.

Closing in, Sephiran is met with the scents of three wolves- Absinth, Araxina, and someone foreign. The raven circled above them, swooping lower, and cawing again- confirming that this young male was the trespasser.

He caught the tail end of their conversation- Absinth was assessing the boy, and commending her daughter for collecting a Sidi. But the girl seemed unamused- she was glaring at the dark male- wanting to claim him as her own. But Sephiran had no interest in her qualms. No. No. No. He was more concerned with the boy’s blatant defiance- the act of trespassing far more enraging to the Saxe Sultan. Even if Absinth’s daughter invited him.

As Sephiran emerged from the shadows, the air itself seemed to vibrate with an unnatural tension- an overwhelming sense of malevolence and arrogance accompanying his arrival. Overwhelming. Suffocating. There was no denying that he was the ring leader of The Syndicate- that the demons here belonged to him.

Closing the distance between himself and the group, his sharp features were contorted into a sneer, his eyes shifting from Absinth, to Araxina, to Jiro. He hyper-fixated on the boy, narrowing his gaze at him- assessing him- challenging him. “Boy,” He seethed, his tongue escaping his lips to slide across his saber fangs. “You’ve stepped foot into my home- my sanctuary.” If Absinth and Xina are in his way, Sephiran shoves past them, surging at the younger male. “Defiling it with your scent. You. Will. Not. Leave.” With a swift, brutal motion, his jaws are unhinged, and he’s attempting to grab Jiro by the throat, while throwing his weight forward to knock him down.

"Sephiran Saxe"

Sephiran vs Jiro for Force Claim
Round 1/1
Age: > 1 year
Size: Extra large
Build: Heavy
Offensive Battle Accessory: Obsidian Blade
Defensive Battle Accessory: Bear leather bracers
Companion 1: American Kestrel, Female - battle
Companion 2: Arizona Rattlesnake, male - battle
*Companion 3: Panther, female - battle - boosted
Mutation 1: Saber teeth (Offensive)
Skills: Master Fighter & Master Healer
Specialty: Poison Master

Jiro was no stranger to intimidation. His own father exuded a presence that was meant to be respected at all times. Unlike his siblings, Jiro had always had issues with respecting authority. Something about the squinty stoic expression and pinched brow that made him made to chortle at the sight. Who could take someone seriously when they never smiled themselves? Yet, Hattori Hanzo's aura had come from culture, upbringing, wisdom, and experience. There was a backing behind that it that made it easy to challenge, but easier to know when to stop it and get into line.

What he felt in those next moments was anything but. The air itself shifted as if the temperature had dropped. Birds scattered into the air, cawing loudly, alerting all around them that danger had arrived. Pulling his attention from Araxina and Absinth, he stares wide eyed at the purple brute that charges directly for him. Jiro's fight or flight kicks in at that second. His hackles raise, head lowered to align with his shoulders, silver gaze staring back at the man who gets into his personal space, saber teeth mere inches from his muzzle.

The Sultan's scathing words send his heart racing and lungs rippling, tightening, fighting for his next breath. What had this girl dragged him into? Was this the real higher up that she had requested, not her mother? Unfortunately for Jiro, his father had taught him to stand his ground and to be strong in moments of weakness and adversity. He couldn't tell if this was one of these moments or if he shoulder cower and roll over to show submission. His brain isn't given adequate time to comprehend what's happening or even respond for the next second he sees those saber teeth lunging for his throat.

It was indeed time to choose and he was choosing fight. If the girl and her mother wanted to see what he was made of, they were going to see it.

As quickly as Sephiran attempted to grab his throat, surging toward him to throw him off balance, he responded. His front paws lift from the ground, going to wrap around Sephiran's neck, his own weight pushing forward and up in an attempt to knock Sephiran back and keep his teeth away from his neck. His own jaw too is snapping, opening wide and clacking his teeth together, aiming for check, ear, neck, anything to grab ahold of to try and knock the male to the ground.

Hattori Jiro

table coding by bunni ♥

Jiro vs Sephiran for Force Claim
Round 1/1
Age: Over 1
Size: Titan
Build: Heavy
Companion 1: Savannah cat, male - battle
Mutation 1: Antelope horns - Offensive
Skills: Master Hunter & Expert Healer
Specialty: Bloodletter