Syrinx had not left Alacritis this time, and so there was the faint left over of his scent in a few places one went, however, he had become a drifter of the most obvious means. He was no longer a king left to rule in power or in understanding. Instead he was a mogul that sought to displace the entirety of Alacritis until, as a whole, it rested under his power or that of an Adravendi. He needn't even see it last. He simply wanted to see it happen. They had the numbers, and they had the confidence and persuasion all they needed was a leader and Syrinx was so willing to be that one. The adravendi had fallen from where they were once so mighty, and he looked to restore that. A faint smile would rise to his lips at the thought, however, the soul thought was not what invoked just a look, "Pip," the whisper was faint, but his deep baritones could carry it quite awhile. Hopefully, she would hear him calling to her and she would come. He wanted to implant his ideas into the head of those closet to him and make them writhe with anticipation and hopefulness for a future he could offer them. His time was soon, and they would be a grand part of it. The serpentine man would drop his massive haunches to the earth and he would sit. The topography of the land around him had a decent balance between being woodsy and spacious and it enveloped a relaxed tone. It was a domain the master was not so commonly accustomed to. Regardless, he had come here--naturally, he now felt as though he was here by fate to see his darling family and to change the course of history as it needed to be changed. A wry grin kept itself seated on his lips. He was going to take them back a kingdom. Of which? He was not certain.

Though still with Maverick, Epiphron had grown used to spending time alone. His presence had once excited her, exhilarated her; but now she felt incapable of imagining him solely as hers. He had betrayed her; perhaps she had strayed from him in a way, but she had not run to another man -- her heart had always been his. She could not help but feel hurt still, but wandering seemed to keep her mind too busy to focus much on the past. Instead, she wanted to think of the future... she wanted to reunite with her children, to visit her family, to figure out what kind of life she wanted to live. Her journey brought her to the north, to the merciless cold of the mountainous terrain. She couldn't help but wonder if the King of the North still ruled here, the tyrant that had brought so much bloodshed and turmoil to the wolves of Valhalla. It was not hard to find her brother's scent. It was familiar to her; he smelled like home, and home was what she craved so badly. A sigh slipped from parted lips as she found her way across the land, letting the bitter air and snowy terrain embrace her as his scent grew stronger. She swore she heard his voice in the distance... was he really so close? She squinted, looking for his familiar form in the distance. Her ears swiveled as she saw the smallest hint of brown fur against the white snow. Epiphron's pace would suddenly increase as she realized it truly was him. How long had it been? Months? Seasons? She let a bark sound across the flat expanse of land, suddenly realizing she craved his company more than she had expected. It wasn't long before she came to greet him, maintaining a distance between them, eyes sparkling with something akin to mischief. "And so he returns," she noted drly. "I have missed you, Syrinx."

Syrinx was a man of few words but countless actions. His actions were not always in the best means, but alas, they were what made him the leader he was. He had taken up arms against Chrysanthe (willingly stood down, of course) and he had not been present when the passing of his father had come. Still, those defining moments in his life did not entirely make him what he was. There were things that had just come to be about the Adravendi. For example, his unwillingness to change was brought on by his mother. Guinevere had been a rock and she had no doubt given that trait to every single one of her children. Cairo, was te loyalist of the bunch and, if nothing else, had given the kids a sense of pride in one another.

Still, Syrinx did not see his sister come to him and hold herself in a position of pride. And though her words were not sad in any means of the word, there was still a distance that left the man drawing his lips back and allowing a low growl to resonate in his throat. Something was amiss, but he would not pressure her into telling him. She simply would or she would not. The brother and sister ad the similarity of knowing that if there was something they didn't want to be known or said...they would go to their graves before an utterance came from their lips. Their stubborness was unmatched.

"I've never been far," a small crack formed over his muzzle. A legion of scarrs bridled him down his body now from the flames, and they seemed to twist and turn the same way a fire would. They were mesmerizing to look at, but dangerous all the same. For him, they were suiting, "Everyone misses me do they not? I'm fabulous; or have you forgotten?" He only needed to ask her the single question. He knew the whereabouts of his Chrysanthe, and Eos and him had long departed. His heart was no longer hers and he could no longer picture her as anything but gone...perhaps even dead. Even in flesh and bone she would return to him and he thought he could picture her as no less, "Where are you living?" the scent on her body was unfamiliar on her but he felt as though he knew the words that would fall from her lips.

Epiphron was accustomed to the seemingly haphazardly way in which he made decisions, to the fervor with which he acted, to the strength he had never once let falter for all the years she had known him. Often he seemed misguided, but his purpose was always to build for his family, to protect and strength the Adravendi name. She had never questioned his intentions, but the path he took to get there was not always one she favored. His initial response to her presence was a low growl that begun in his throat, barely leaving his lips as he tried to contain it. She mirrored the expression slightly, lips twitching in a slight scowl as she gazed at him. Syrinx was grotesque, with very few -- if any -- redeeming features. And yet she felt a warmth grow deep in her chest at the sight of him, and slowly her snarl would dissipate into something much more serene. "If you say so," she retorted sharply, her head shaking slightly. She knew that Alacritis was his home, and that he was not apt to leave, and yet it frustrated her how illusive he could be, often when he was most needed. "I missed you," she would admit freely, though her tones were soft and guarded. "Though I have a suspicion I can count on one paw the wolves that feel the same as I do." It was not secret he was not a creature loved by many, but feared? Respected? Those seemed more likely. A slight laugh would sound from her lips as she leaned to nudge his scarred shoulder, a gesture of affection that she gave to few other than her siblings and children. Her asked where she was living, and another chuckle would slip unknowingly from her throat. "I have no home," she told him simply, not wanting to elaborate further -- not quite yet. "Maverick and I spent some time in Ebony, a pack east of where the Kingdom of Seracia once reigned. But we grew restless. We've been spending time with our children now, going wherever our paws take us." It hadn't been far, admittedly, but having no home for once felt remarkably freeing. "And what of you? What Kingdom do you plot to overthrow? What lands to you crave to own as your own?" A smirk toyed at her lips, her head tilting as she gazed at him fondly, knowing she was right but wondering if he would admit his plans.