She'd left the icy woods and the refuge that being with Drashiel provided to explore- and to think. Her paws had lead her towards Southern Alacritis, towards lands she had yet to explore.  She moved with little care, her body relaxed and she paid little attention to the outside world- rather her mind was focused nearly completely on her own mental chaos. She didn't notice that breathtaking beauty that she passed or the vile abominations of nature that she passed. The world was a dull roar around her, and to one looking at her- she almost appeared glazed, as if one could physically tell that she wasn't mentally there. She kept walking until her paws stepped into a pool and she paused- mostly from shock. Her ears flattened slightly, and she stepped backwards, giving the world around her a confused look. "-the hell am I?" she muttered aloud.  She let out a disdainful sniff and turned away from the puddle- her tail waving in the air behind her. It wasn't the first time, that being lost in her mind had led her to wander off. She eyed the world around her, noting a space where the sunlight filtered in from the trees, and she padded towards it. Circling once, she slowly sank to the ground- her head coming to rest on her paws. She enjoyed the feel of the sunshine on her back, it warmed her- and grounded her back to the physical world. "At least there isn't any damned snow." She breathed, a soft smile flickering at her jaws.  A soft breeze ruffled her fur, bringing with it a scent of another. She lifted her head and let out a light rueful sigh. She glanced around her- waiting for the stranger to show themselves.

The southern continent was utterly foreign to her. Slowly she had traveled, down the eastern coastline, finding herself surprised when a massive sand-bridge that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Perhaps her memories of this place were hazy, but she felt like something drastic had changed as she journeyed further south. Her senses were heightened as her paws led her over the sand, taking in the shimmering shore with a slight sense of wonder that she rarely felt these days. The landscape would change as she traversed these new lands, the vast expanse of sand slowly morphing into woodlands as trees sprouted here and there. Soon she was surrounded by the impossibly tall oaks, looming high overhead. They seemed ancient somehow, their bark covered in thick moss that must've taken years to form. The land was significantly warmer here, though she was farther from familiar lands than she preferred; it would take her days to return to the general area she considered home, though she called no particular place home. The warmth on her back was pleasant and she found herself relaxing as she wandered, weaving effortlessly through the trunks of the massive oak trees. Only when the scent of another reached her nostrils did her posture stiffen slightly, slowing her pace to focus her attention on whoever might be nearby. The woman's features took her by surprise. Though slightly larger than herself, her pelt was a flawless white, though her markings stood out quite vividly in contrast to the alabaster fur. Hadn't she seen this woman before? Epiphron felt her stomach sink as she drew a bit nearer, mind suddenly clouded with emotion she could not place. "I have met you before," she would call out, her voice somewhat unsure, scrutinizing Roman silently as she drew a bit nearer.

As she waited to see if the stranger would approach, she stretched slightly were she lay before curling back up into a more graceful position. As the stranger finally approached, she pushed herself into a sitting position gazing at the white and brown wolf. Something about her was familiar, and the words that she spoke- told Roman that she was thinking the same thing. Roman's brow furrowed as she tried to remember, it was like trying to summon a foggy memory. Then it hit her. "I don't think we've actually met- I did however witness the fight you had with Azalea." Her tone was casual- as she watched the strange wolf. "I am Roman Armada." She introduced herself- watching to see whatever reaction this she-wolf would give.  She studied the other she-wolf- noting her slightly smaller stature and the odd coloring on her ear- a trait shared by her right paw. She was simply marked, but pretty. Perhaps it was the vain part of Roman that realized that perhaps she could get along with this she-wolf. I don't remember much of that.. fight but I could easily guess that you're an Adravendi- it seemed... like a family skirmish." Her tones were again casual, though her eyes gleamed with interest. Roman had met a few of the Adravendi wolves and quite a few of them- she got a long with. Her friendships or acquaintances were one of the few things she didn't go into detail with when speaking to her father. Roman kept her body posture relaxed- she had little issue to start a conflict, though that wasn't to say that she'd back down from one. In truth, Roman was simply interested in getting to know another one of the much hated bloodline of her fathers.  Greek Speak -- Roman Speak

Slowly the stranger would lift herself into a sitting position, eying Epiphron with the same kind of guarded curiosity that she herself displayed. It took the alabaster woman a long moment to realize where she had seen her. Oh, she was one of the Armada clan -- she mentally refrained from calling her an Armada bitch in her head. Azalea had stood by her side when her brother had lost his life. Hadn't she cheered on Isardis? Her nose wrinkled as she eyed her, judgment glimmering in her gaze as she studied her. While there was no reaction of anger, no look of malice shot her way, her expression was far from pleased. The death of her brother had been painful and to be facing a woman that had openly wished his demise was unsettling, to say the least. Eyes would narrow as she faced her, posture only stiffening slightly as she warily stepped a bit closer. "Roman Armada."  She'd never met an Armada she liked, though it wasn't until recently that she had met an Adravendi that she didn't. "I am Epiphron Adravendi. Azalea's aunt. By adoption."  Once she had thought that loyalty mattered more than blood, but time had changed that opinion; only those that she was related to by blood had not betrayed her. She, too did not remember the fight well. The memories were hazy and painful to recall. Curiosity gleamed in her unwavering stare as she considered. A family skirmish, she called the fight between she and Azalea. "I suppose you could call it that," she would murmur quietly. There was little else to say; the rivalry between the two families was something that didn't need to be explained. There was even less of a reason to explain why she had felt Azalea had betrayed her family. A moment of silence would follow, her mind reeling, flooding her with nostalgia, curiousity, and confusion at the same time. "Though betrayal seems a more fitting word for it." Her tones were level, untainted by malice, though her gaze did not waver as she spoke.

Roman studied the she-wolf opposite her, with a neutral expression. She could fill the memories about the death-match with her father and Syrinx swirling around her head, the voids within them filling themselves. It was all coming back now, though parts of them that she didn't want to remember. She could remember her awe and even her own fear- as her father stood down the Adravendi- one of the  only wolves in the land to best him. She had been afraid to lose him- and even in the after-math of the battle, as he reigned victorious- she had in some ways lost him. She didn't know if she'd ever see him again- were the Adravendi's the only ones who thought they had suffered from that battle? She could only wonder- but she didn't see the point in ruining such promising conversation with such controversial topics.  The wolf spoke, acknowledging her name, and then providing her own. Epiphron Adravendi. Roman nodded- taking the name to memory. She was Azalea's aunt- though it was by adoption. That was an obscure detail to mention. The idea of adoption was not a familial ideal that she was familiar with- she wondered how that worked. Did you just pick a random wolf and "claim" them? Epiphron then spoke again, conceding an agreement to Roman's words. A family skirmish. A slight pause filled the void- as Roman's brow cocked slightly and then Epiphron spoke again. 'Though betrayal seems a more fitting word for it.' A slight chuckle pulled from Roman, and she spoke. "I think our families have oddly similar ideals of betrayal- despite our extreme differences. I expected my father to have my tail, for my friendship with Azalea- and me leaving her my empire when I left..." She gave a short laugh, before continuing. "Imagine if he knew that I was on rather friendly terms with other former Adravendi wolves." Her eyes darkened slightly.  Taking a more serious expression, she went on. "I can see where you'd call it betrayal, I think if it were my family joining my enemies- I'd see it as an act of betrayal." She noted casually. She thought for a few moments, her tail flicking beside her resting form.  Greek Speak -- Roman Speak

What had Azalea seen in this woman, that she had chose to stand by her side during that awful day, rather than at her own aunt's side? She knew that she had never been a traitor to her own family and doubted Syrinx had ever treated her badly, and yet still Azalea had stood by the side of the family whose patriarch had defiled her. Eyes narrowed in recognizable distrust as she watched this woman, curious but wary all the same. The pain that emanated through her chest was very real and unshakable.  Epiphron had loved her brother deeply, despite his imperfections, and she knew there was nobody save for Chrysanthe who hurt as much as she did over his loss. Roman chuckled at Epiphron's words and she found a slight smirk tugging at her own lips. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism -- it was unsafe to show pain, especially to those who could very well be considered enemies. Though she did not blame Roman for the wrong-doings of her father, it was difficult to not feel some kind of wariness in speaking openly with an Armada. There was a burning desire to continue the conversation in the direction she knew it might be heading, but a sigh fell from her lips. Somehow, Azalea reminded her strangely of Neo now; she admitted she had felt wronged somehow, like she'd never truly fit into the family. How stupid it sounded. Her own father had been as much a brother to her as Syrinx ever had, and she had been no different to her.  "I can't help but wonder," she'd comment conversationally, though her tones were guarded still. "what started all of this.." There had been so much leading up to that battle -- so much that had torn the two families apart. But how had it all began? It was all hazy in her mind, and she found herself swaying slightly even as she stood there now, painful memories coming back to her. A moment of silence would follow, before she would shake her head. "Forgive me," she would utter, throat suddenly feeling dry. "I suppose there is no need to dwell." She'd mourned for nearly an entire season, and nothing had changed; sulking over it would only hurt her worse, and she'd never been the kind to wade in her own sorrow.

There was a dark sense of irony to it all, that it would be these two who speak. Roman didn't feel particularly offended by Epiphron's presence, but she couldn't deny that a kind of tension bubbled beneath their civil banter. The Adravendi wolf spoke, and Roman's ear flicked slightly. She shook her head slightly, and spoke in repsonse."I am afraid the conflict between my father and your family- happened before I came to these lands. I've never much identified with it, though I know what I have been told by my family." She explained, her tone completely neutral. She hadn't been involved in the war efforts that her father had waged against the pack called Valhalla. Hell, Roman had went out of her way to talk to Adravendi wolves to hear both sides of the argument, but she hadn't every really formed an opinion on the whole matter. Silence fell, and Epiphron apologized for drudging up the past. A kind smile, perhaps something that was uncharacteristic to one such as herself pulled at her jaws.  "I think there is a certain amount of good in reviewing the past. Perhaps there is something to be learned from the actions of our families." She said with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Though it does do no good to dwell." She agreed. Roman stared off into the landscape around them. "Since the Adravendi ruler.... Erani, isn't it- lost her throne, to that bitch Viridiana- I haven't heard much of the Adravendi's... How is your family faring?" She asked politely, her tones curious. She tried to steer the conversation into something less dark and rooted within family distaste.  She had no ulterior motives. While she would always defend her father- she didn't need to fight his battles. She could make her own enemies. "Oh... excuse my vulgar language. " She noted. That wasn't how a Queen should speak.   Speech,

The sudden fire in her chest would slowly lose its intensity; the conversation had brought her a painful nostalgia of her brother's death, as she came face-to-face with the woman that had publicly cheered for his death. Perhaps she had simply not wished a similar fate upon her father, and all those who had witnessed the fight had known that the feud between Syrinx and Isardis would end in nothing other than death for one of them. There was still a bit of anger, mixed in with the painful mourning that she suddenly was reliving -- but Roman's presence was not threatening and she found herself almost relaxing as the Regium Queen spoke again. Despite the friendliness though, she knew there would always be a tension between the two of them, though at least they were both aware of it. "My sister was blinded by your Queen," she'd comment, as though it might offer some insight into her own feelings on the feud between the two families. If she was still there, she had no idea; and her gaze would search Roman's expression somewhat imploringly as though wondering if she still ruled. "And I will never forgive Isardis for taking my brother from me --- but I wouldn't expect you to forgive Syrinx if he had killed yours..." And though Roman had certainly hoped for her brother's death, she would've done the same, had she been in her position. Her nose wrinkled thoughtfully. considering. The conversation shifted then, to the fall of Valhalla and the mention of Erani. "Truthfully," she'd begin a bit warily. "I don't know the whereabouts of most of my Valhallan family." She'd heard of the woman who'd taken Valhalla, but beyond that she knew nothing. "I've not seem them for some time." Things had been quiet in her world, since Maverick had turned everything upside down -- beyond reuniting with her children, she knew little else, especially of her adoptive mother and her family, and she was even more in the dark about her sister. Strangely enough, Syrinx's death had been like the final string being cut that held the family together, even if none of them understood why; things had not gotten better since then.