Gods above how he missed the Spring time. It felt like forever since he'd seen it. Winter felt unusually long this time around, so he was glad when the season finally rolled over. Parts of Boreas still showed signs of the harsh winter. Snow and cold nights still stubbornly clinging to the lands, but as the days passed further into Spring, the remnants of winter were being forced to relinquish their grip. He thought it a good day to go out and continue his work. His plan to leave Abaven to build his own kingdom with those who remained of his family calling him each and every day that passed. He couldn't ignore that call anymore. Actaea had the idea, and ever since then it kept growing in his mind. It was because of her that he decided to try and do this. And if he failed? Then he would chalk it up to the fact that the Praetor name was probably doomed to begin with. speech action

Miach was pretty restless. With the disappearance of his brother the crimson male wasn't sure what he wanted to do. He was currently avoiding his family to the fullest as well as the Abraxas and just wanted to get involved in something bigger then his own personal issues. A pack or even a few friends would go a long way. He was a pretty neutral male so he could easily fit in anywhere that isn't too harsh. In his wanderings it was only natural for the rogue to find himself at a prime watering hole. An unclaimed land with multiple hefty pools of fresh water. Slowly the crimson male moved along the shoreline before pausing to take a quick sip of water. His pink tongue lapping at the liquid. Yet, as his head came up a scent filled his nose. A scent that was familiar and seemed to twist his belly in ways only family could. Quickly Miach whipped his cranium left and right before setting his eyes upon a relative. Acere. An Uncle he had not formally met but from what he knew was an ally of his father. At first the Adravendi thought of running to simply dismiss the idea of confrontation. But, strength bubbled in his chest and such brought him to force his sturdy legs to carry his crimson from closer to his relative. Miach was of neutral stature as he approached Acere. Blood red optics eyed his Uncle as he stopped his steps at about seven tail lengths away. The gentle breeze of spring swept across their bodies and carried his thinning fur into a delightful dance. "Greetings, Acere." Perhaps his Uncle was reformed as well? Or was he still lurking with the demons of the Praetor blood? Walk "Talk" Think

He mulled over the many thoughts that crossed his mind. Of his brother. Of Tyranis. Of Ignis and Actaea. The pack he wanted to create. He didn't quite know which direction he wanted to lead the pack, but he supposed it depended on who he would be leading to begin with. He didn't have many solid ideas to it quite yet, but each day that passed. Each encounter he had. Every word, thought, and feeling that came, it slowly formed into something towards it. Focused in his aimless wanderings and the thoughts, he almost missed the sight of the the younger Male until his path was blocked. Raising his head to see his nephew greeting him, he was almost taken aback. He had never formally met Miach, but he could not miss the blood red gaze that mirrored his own. The stench of Elias' blood in his veins. He had wondered what became of those who once followed Ruina...did this boy still chase after his fathers teachings? "Miach. It's been a while. I wondered what had become of the rest of you," His demeanor was neutral. At least until he knew what side Miach stood on. speech action