He arrives in the lands with no intentions, he has no desire to stay but none really to leave either. His paws leave him here, standing in the dirt and staring down at the blood stained Earth. These are lands of war, he lingers for a moment in the limbo of indecision. His ears flick forward, twist inward and then settle there is no-one following him. There has been no-one on his tail for some time now, they simple forgot to care. He's pleased for that, glad that after all this time they have finally cut him loose. He breaths out, the great weight which has pressed on him for so long finally lifts and it feels so good now to breath. The flaming beast does it a few more times, curls his toes into the dirt and lets a lopsided grin peel his lips apart. Freedom. This is what he has sought his whole life, to live by his own code and to follow his own morals. As loose as they might be.

Shaking out his coat the russet male takes his first step in these lands, a proper step free of burden. He is going to be a new man, well to a certain extent. There will be no monstrous wench breathing fire down his neck when he refuses to kill for the simple pleasure of it, no longer will his demon Father bite at his haunches when he refuses to murder children. Yes, this is a land of new beginnings where he can be bound by contracts he has chosen, and negotiated himself. The Diederich name will change now, its true meaning will be his to create and mould. He aspires for it to achieve infamy, a greatness his forebears could never have imagined.

Ready for what awaits beyond these battle stained lands he lowers to his haunches, tail flicking round his left hind leg. He holds his head high and lets the howl erupt from deep in his chest, it is a powerful baritone which reverberates around him. He is the burning flame, the essence of power and he awaits those who wish to claim his allegiance.

Glaciem was really going stale. There was nothing new or exciting that was going on and Sol was quickly becoming tired of the pack life. Sure it was nice having her sister and other extended family members around, but it wasn't doing much for her. She wasn't learning anything about how to become a better warrior. Thoughts of leaving had begun to linger in her head far longer than they had before and the girl found herself wandering away from Glaciem borders more frequently. More often than none she could be found out and about, away from her pack borders, looking for something or someone who could keep her attention and maybe help her learn. Today was one of those days, but she had wandered particularly far this day. The scent of blood was pungent in the air, making the russet decorated girl wrinkle her nose in disgust. Her icy eyes would gaze out across the empty terrain, hackles stiffening. This land was bad. Many had died here, no doubt some had been great warriors. What had been the reason that their legacy's had some to an end on such a horrendous plain? Caution was evident in Sol's every step as she moved through the bloodied lands, senses on alert. A stray breeze would wander its way in her direction, bringing with it the scent of a foreigner. Immediately ivory and russet skull would turn in the direction of the smell, ice like gaze falling over the silhouette of a russet man. He sat patiently, as if he were waiting for someone. She was sure she had never seen this man before so of course her interest was piqued. Who was he and what was he doing in the battlefield? Was he looking to fight with someone? The young dame would stand quietly at a distance, watching the man, unsure if she should approach him or not. He didn't seem to be threatening, but appearances could very well be deceiving. Talk like this

The man held power now, a power he had not thought would belong to him. His siblings were always the proactive ones but they were not here, and Virgil had needed him. He was not going to let her down. He carried himself with an air of pride, his new position within his family and the knowledge that here he could do the god?s work made him hold his head high. Russet paws would carry Helios towards the battlefield, a place that had stayed upon his radar but that until now he had not had the chance to visit.
He knew he was drawing closer as the acrid smell of blood stung his nose, stale thought most of it was. Deep red eyes scanned the horizon, searching for any activity. A howl rose over the lands and he stopped. The scents here were so strong that he nearly missed the newer smell of another wolf, no? two others. One of them bore the overbearing stench of a different pack. He adjusted his course towards the scents curiosity drawing him towards them.
Finally two shapes appeared upon the war torn field. He narrowed his gaze as he approached with caution. It seemed strange that here of all places he might find one that resembled him so. There were differences of course but of even among his own blood he often felt as though he had deviated from the genetic norm. Mustering himself he drew up off to the side of the yearling, facing the russet man. He cast a quick glance at the girl, sizing her up.
He turned again to look at the male, lifting his tail some and keeping his head high. ?Hell of a place to stop for a rest.? His voice is even, perhaps even a bit commanding.







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