She is exploring, her mind is lost in thought and wonder as she moves into the unfamiliar praire with ease. She slithers among the foliage on silent paws, volcanic glare sliding from left to right as she burns everything that crosses her vision with a spiteful glance. Emotion is vacant from her features although she is painfully bored, elongated tail flicking irritably behind her swaying hips as she presses her bodice into the base of a tree. Nostrils quiver as the scent of another is carried in the breeze, and she hopes some sort of excitement will cross her path during this little adventure. She'd hate to have her day completely wasted, so if this stranger did not seek her out on their own, she would pursue them out of boredom and curiosity. "speech"

Upon a prairie roamed the king of Hell, a beast to be feared? though he had yet to gain a fearsome reptutation ?by all wolves in Alacritia. His only target, however, should be the Olympian pack thriving within these lands. How he despised them. Death would befall Alacritia if it meant destroying every Olympian other than those allied with his father. His obsidian mass would bulge in the prairie, not well hidden at all. Dark pads met cool winter grasses as he would trudge forth in the oncoming field. Sticking like a sore thumb from the whitewashed landscape, was a maroon vixen, young, yet elegant, obviously grown out of her puppyish stage. "Hello, child of roses." Lyrics would elicit from inky lips smoothly, burning coals calm. The roae-colored vixen was young, perhaps young enough to gain her as a follower, should he find himself upon a throne. She was rather larger for a young lady, such as she. "How are you?" "Speech."

She certainly is not alone, although she has been aware of his presence since before he had shown himself. Before her stands an ebony beast whom was far larger, and older, than herself, his eyes hued in a dark apricot, and his voice sinister yet smooth. He calls her child of roses, but his pet name does not bring any emotion to the surface of her unwavering features. He speaks again, asking how she is, and she responds out of pure boredom, her tone of voice impassive and indifferent. "I am fine. And you, ebony beast? How do you fair?" Magma hued eyes glance upwards as she aims to align their gazes, ebony dipped tail flicking behind her ethereal hips as she keeps her elongated rudder from touching the earth.

The red child had spoken, clearly feminine and smooth, a symphony of angels. Ebony beast. The child of roses had called the obsidian bulk, which he would reply to with a simple narrowing of his burning coals. "I am appalled by your pet names, but I fare well. My plots only are yet to unfold." His sinister voice rang over the auditories of any creatures lest they did not care. He tossed his plush banner to the side, as he pulled his crown up, burning coals flitting to fit this new position, stilts folding to allow the ebony mass a seat in the tall prairie grasses, a waiting call to the red child's reply. "Speech."

The beast narrows his eyes at her, a sign that she has already managed to irritate him despite his heinous exterior. Was he really that easy to break? All she had to do was call him ebony beast? Too easy. He reclines onto his haunches, but the carmine beauty remains motionless, mischief glowing within her magma hued eyes although her outward appearance remains unchanged. "The ebony beast claims to have plots, yet I see nothing of the sort." She taunts, mocking him by trying to use what he had said against him. She doubts this man has any real plans, he's probably some rogue who believes he has a place in this world and is trying to play a trick on a bypassing child. Only she wasn't a child anymore- she now knew the difference between the powerful and the frail, and this man certainly attained no power. "speech"

The child once again speaks, her mocking manners now not working, as he simply narrows his apricot toned gems at the siren. Such a child could not be trusted with the knowledge of his schemes to worm into the main branch of the Olympus family for power. She seemed of the stature of a princess, which intruiged the ebon beast. "My dear child," He lowered his crown to stare straight into the molten irises of the siren, before his sinister voice comes again. "they have yet to unfurl." If the siren hadn't spoken already, his lyrics would continue onwards. "Of what name and domain are you? You may call me Hades Olympus if you will." As the word Olympus slid from his dark tongue, he gave a growl of distaste. How he despised their blood, just like his sister, and numerous of his side of the family. Death would come to Alacritia... If it meant power for the evil. "Speech."

The ebony man speaks, and the nymph's expression remains unchanged, up until the moment the name Olympus slips from the mans lips. Her right brow furrows, curiosity settling within the folds of her mind. She had met a blonde boy with that surname a few days ago. Was this man a relative perhaps? And if he was... was he a god too? Questions spilled into her mind, and she takes a few moments pause before speaking, as she wants to let some time pass to keep the man interested. ?My name is Fiamette Sovari- although I wear my surname with pride, unlike you.? She would state, as she had noticed the growl that had followed his last word. ?I am the princess of Covari.? She states proudly, as she knows she will become the heir to a powerful kingdom. Her brothers and sisters seemed mia, and so she assumed herself to be the last of her mothers pick. Not that her mother hadn't intended to give it to her anyway, she was the only logical choice after all. ?Speech?

The nymph was interesting at the least to say, pelt that of a rose. In the failing light, it was yet even more whimsical. No interest in her would be shown however, as she spoke of her own domain, recoiling against his distasteful attitude toward his secondary name. Lady Fiamette, I have every reason to disdain my name. They have cast my lineage aside as a mistake, a curse of the gods. Little do they know that we are rising against them. A sinister grin would spread upon inky lips as the brute spoke, topaz gems full of desire for revenge upon the Olympus name. Little know that I am destined to be King of Hell, just as the god I was sired by was. This verse was spoken in his classic voice of growling, whispered into the princess' ears quietly. You won't tell anyone about this, will you, my dear? Perhaps the Raven could play the child into his own paws. She could be his assistant in the conquering of Olympus, a princess to be blessed with the fortune of many men. hear me ROAR.