Won't let the sun wrap its arms around me

Sirius Revlis · 06-14-2011, 09:58 AM

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Word Count » 3+

Darkness had begun its descent on the world, but Sirius Revlis was not afraid of the dark.

The man was a Hunter, and the splendid carnage of the setting sun pleased him. Olive eyes looked fleetingly to the bleeding hue in the West, back over his shoulder from where he had come. Salsola - Beloved and mighty, if new, had planted its wicked roots in the rugged wilderness there. The land of the Thistle King was harsh, but it too pleased him, as few things seemed to these days. He had traveled along the coast, seeking no company and finding none. The patrols gave the Boss a respectful distance, and he crossed the dangerous border into free land without hesitation.

Although frequently loathe to leave his lands, the new ruler found himself desperate for travel. Perhaps he would use the time to hunt - Although this was hardly necessary, as there were now many paws and fangs willing to hunt for their Alpha. Being thusly waited on pleased the vain male at times, but he did not wish to become complacent; The skills of the Hunter were keen indeed, skills inherited through cold, royal blood, and honed in the desperation of survival. His youth had been a difficult one, but it had made him hard and lean and cunning. Cleverness was indeed the male's most redeeming feature, for while he was extraordinarily fleet of foot thanks to elegant paws and long legs, he possessed no bulk or muscle to fight his way to the crown. No, Sirius Revlis was a man primarily of the mind, and his wicked wit had served him very well.

He wasn't aware of when he began tracking the woman, only that he had. Something about the scent she left intrigued him - Inferni was dominant, and that alone should have disinterested the King. His only business with Inferni was soon to be had with its leader, not some peasant that licked the feet of Gabriel de le Poer. However, for some time the whisperings of weakness within the infamous Clan had reached the male's large coyote ears, and his wolfish desires probed him to seek more information. Salsola had to be protected, and Anathema was already deemed stable - Naniko had the man's trust. But Inferni, their nearest neighbor, was also the most dangerous.

So he tracked her, diligently. While perhaps four legs would have suited this cause better, the man retained his civility in the form he desired most. Free of the heavy bearhide cloak he had taken to wearing in Salsola, his movements were purposeful and unhindered, possessing a strange combination of the coyote elegance of his father, and the wolfish effortlessness of his mother. Seeking the end of his aimless hunt, Sirius melted between the shadows of the pines, his olive eyes glittering with that strange, fearful intelligence. The trail here was stronger, although its creator was surely a creature of light movements, for she left little evidence of her passing.

Unaware of how close he was to the end of the trail, and perhaps arrogantly not bothering to disguise the sound of his own footfall, the Thistle King neared his quarry, abruptly breaking into view behind her.

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