Supremacy, it was the image of Glaciem that had been shattered, the image he and Athena were craving to gain back after the mess that was made of the kingdom. The king could feel the cold feeling that clung to his pelt; of the wavering impressions of his fathers faulting mind. The one eyed emerald king would not bother with the chain around his neck this morning. Artemis he only met a few times in his youth, she had been a figure of strength an idol towards him who was a scrawny youth. Filled out, and now a warrior, this meeting would not be for any benefit perhaps. But out of the darker parts of his heart of the curious notion of how the woman was doing, she had gained her crown back, she had proved herself worthy and as was this a threat now that she was no longer in Glaciem. However, Vereux would not think of this. He wished to know, and on his own accord, how her picture of health was doing as a whole. He was working with Athena to make Glaciem great. This being without Isardis. They would never be the ice king, and his time had run out leaving his horrible children in the wake. And only the ones who had the backbone to do anything would remain out of the ashes. What would come out of this meeting he would not even dare to guess. As he wavered on the borders, slate crown lowering as he rose it again to call for Artemis. Perhaps of a more demanding tone, but not for out of respect of those who had proved over and over again in battle that they were strength itself. Vereux's dark paws would also watch himself carefully, carrying himself with every sense of royalty and lack of fear. Should an alliance grow out of this meeting, he would need to bring it up with Athena. Yet the back of his mind was more interested in what would have been should he had chosen to go to Elysium before. He was a king now, how the tables had turned. And he'd be a king that even his father would not be able to ignore from his crying pit in the ground of his supposed failure after appointing Athena as queen. One day Vereux might have given his father a reason to cry. Speech,

His looming presence upon her borders garners her attention accordingly, and she approaches with the obligatory diligence of a queen --- immaculate in her methodical stance and a stark beacon of resolute confidence, skull dutifully making its ascension above rolled shoulders while her tail furls above sinewy thighs. She regards him with an indifferent gaze { although the recognition is present } as she engulfs the distance lingering between them --- the tyrant and the once-boy --- and she pauses mere feet before him, assessing him with avid pupils. His existence only provokes the vaguest memories of the past that she has buried beneath present feats and aspirations, though the phantom cannot help but succumb to them as she hints the undeniable fragrance of Isardis laden upon his cobalt coat. Muscles stiffen beneath taut flesh as she briefly indulges in such destructive thoughts, though she immediately surpasses them with an impassive greeting that drifts so eloquently from slackened jaws. ?You are not the same child who once sought my leadership many seasons ago,? is the pointed claim the tyrant voices, pupils lingering upon his grotesque features as she internally contemplates his purpose here --- surely he does not intend to pledge fealty towards her after she had ABANDONED her previous role.

Any prior standing to Glaciem and his father with Artemis did not matter to the boy now. He simply sought a bit of a interaction with his past. He was no longer a weakling struggling to find his bearings. Vereux was the king of Glaciem, and Athena was the queen. Isardis held no standing over him like he had before, and relentlessly the boy would be doubting his father in many ways. The man had given up his throne, only to be looming over them with regret. It made him angry, but he had learned to keep it locked and to keep calm like he was supposed to. He was learning the true ropes of what being a leader meant to him for his packs survival. ?And you, you are not the same tyrant that once pledged her life before my father.? He would note, but then shift one eye looking at her clearly. ?Tell me Artemis, what made you change your mind about being loyal to Glaciem? I am simply curious.? Vereux only wanted answers, with that he would decide where Elysium stood with Glaciem. That was important after all. ?I speak?

this is a repost.

She is oblivious to the prestige which bestows his head in the form of a glorious title, ignorant to the fact that he now adorns a crown of his own -- though the phantom has been made aware that her former sovereign had retired his Glaciem throne to his own flesh and blood. She has yet to pass judgment upon the youthful queen that upholds her father?s legacy, though the tyrant had been impressed by her for not cowering in the face of the behemoth who sought to seize her kingdom. As far as the Elysius wraith is concerned, the Armada queen operates in a monarchy -- the battered titan whose presence plagues her borders is merely a familiar face who had been blessed with an infamous surname, and one whose presence she remains indifferent towards as she reclines lackadaisically upon supple thighs.



Leathery nostrils flare minutely as the deity emits a concurring grunt in response to his first statement, thoughts briefly straying towards her past as she mulls over her former affiliation with the Glaciem empire. And yet, at his inquiry, the tyrant grows wary of his intentions, uncertainty shrouding the insufferable chasms of her diseased mind as she pierces him with the frigidity of her mismatched gaze. ?And has Isardis sent you to retrieve this information?? the queen questions with a quirked brow, a bedeviled chortle streaming from insatiable jaws as her skull shakes slowly in disbelief. ?I sought independence, and could not achieve such if I played pawn to your father?s king,? she informs him pointedly, countenance void of any and all emotion.