Deimos walked along the border of the pack lands just as the sun was dipping below the horizon, exposing the pinpoints of light from the stars. He was due back at the den for dinner, but he had gotten caught up in a hunt that had taken longer than he had anticipated that afternoon so he hadn't had a chance to do his last patrol of the day. It wouldn't be the first time that pack responsibilities would keep him out late and he was sure it wouldn't be the last. Ikigai never complained, but he still felt bad when he got home and the dinner that had been prepared for their family had gotten cold. He picked up the pace a bit despite the protest from his joints. A quick trip around the garden and a glance at the area near the lake and the could call it a day.

He very nearly missed the scent of a stranger that had crossed onto their side of the marked border in his haste to get done with his patrol, but he registered it just as he walked across the path and had to do a bit of a double take with a deep frown. There were a few individuals outside of Elysium that had permission to visit as they wished, but this didn't match any of their scents either. Immediately on high alert, Deimos began to follow the scent, quickly crossing the rock-dotted landscape in pursuit of the intruder while wondering who would be so bold as to blatantly ignore pack boundaries. Eventually he spotted a red and black figure that matched him in stature as he rounded one of the larger boulders. "Hey!" he barked with a growl while trotting up behind the stranger, giving him a wary glare. "Who are you and what are you doing in my pack?"

"Deimos Mendacium"

H is time with Rusalka and Obscura had come to an inevitable end. He had never intended for the young fae to be his long term venture, nor did he hold any care or love for her kin in that ramshackle pack. He’d gotten to enjoy her nubile young body for a good long while, and if he was lucky perhaps he’d even left her in the care of his pups before he’d parted ways with her; he’d never know if he’d sired bastards within her belly or not, nor did he really care. He’d gotten his use out of the Klein girl, and now he was back on his hunt. Requiem never let his quarry slip away from him, and as time and age crept up on him, the crimson brute found himself lusting for the blood of his nemesis more and more. He would have Alastor’s life before his own came to an end—and nothing was going to stop him now. Nothing.

R equiem had known Alastor had settled down in one of the northern packs and it didn’t take much tracking from that point to narrow down where he was hiding out. Elysium, some introverted collective of spiritual fanatics up on the island just off the coast of Boreas. Really, Alastor? This was where you’d been spending all your time? Chuckling to himself, Requiem slunk past the borders of Elysium as if they weren’t even there, prowling like a shadow through the rocks and ruins as he scouted out the land. He had a strong suspicion that his target would be holed up nice and safe on the island proper, but he’d still need a lay of the land if he was going to sneak in and assassinate his enemy.

R equiem did nothing to announce his presence in enemy territory. He stalked without sound through the ruins, studying the layout of the land and the labyrinth. This would be a good place to launch an ambush. Lots of cover, plenty of areas of deep shadow, easy escape routes… It was while Req was making notes on the terrain that he heard a voice growl out behind him. His fur bristled on his nape. Fuck. Requiem didn’t turn around at first, listening as the stranger’s paws crunched through the dry autumn grass closer and closer. Once he was close enough, Requiem turned his head to leer back at the wolf—a dire brute like him clad in slate and purple—eyeing him up and down. Ah, so this was the Elysium alpha… Well, that posed a problem. Even if he pled innocent and feigned being lost, the alpha would most certainly alert the rest of the pack and put Alastor on guard.

H e couldn’t have that.

M eeting the alpha’s hard gaze with an easy smile, Requiem kept his body turned away from the brute, letting him get closer. He wouldn’t see the dagger sheathed just under his forearm from the angle he was at. "My apologies. I was looking for someone and I heard he was around here. His name is Alastor. Maybe you know him?" Requiem waited until Deimos was right up behind him, and then he struck. With lightning quick reflexes and precision he dipped his muzzle and drew his dagger, bringing the blade around in a vicious slice aimed for the alpha brute’s broad chest—a large and easy target. He didn’t need to deal a devastating wound; even a simple cut would do so long as it drew blood.


"Requiem" | "Latin"