WC:000+ / Open to anyone. Evening at the borders.
Matteo knew what he was doing was morally wrong. He knew the consequences should he ever be caught. He also knew well enough the hell he'd pay if ever he let Ezekiel down by being caught. By making one little decision of being a spy for the Fire King, Matteo had given his life over to the hands of Inferni's leader. His only escape would be one of two things; kill the king and, yet again, not get caught... or flee the province in hopes of not being followed or chased.
He'd do neither, though. With Gemma home, safe and sound, and his safety on the line due to Alaki's manhunt, Matteo knew that the more allies in the clan he had, the more likely the chances of his little messed up family being saved when the time came. He was strong, he was a good fighter now... but Matteo knew his limits. Alaki would snap him in half if the wolf ever caught up with him.
So he spent most of his time away from AniWaya, away from the tribe he so desperately wanted to call home. Gemma was safe; Dominick, his father's ex-hitman, Ayasha and Camilla would keep her safe. All he had to do was focus on the tasks ahead.
His goal today was to either find Tedros, or else meet someone new in Inferni, be it a veteran member or a new kid on the block. He needed the approval of the clan if he planned on someday being able to wander the clan's territory as... as what?
A member of the fire clan? Did he really feel torn enough to join the clan that had hired him for his services as a spy? The young medic rode along in a heavy silence, Jericho keeping them on track along the familiar route to Inferni's territory. She knew her rider was lost in his thoughts; he did it often and she'd grown used to the tension.
Upon reaching the border nearly an entire day's worth of travel later, Matteo hopped off the mare, walking over to one of the many posts there and brushing a delicate finger across the wolf's skull on top. ...such violent warnings. He mused, cracking an uncharacteristic smirk. Dad would've loved this place. The smirk he wore was bitter, sarcastic; how could such violence come of a difference in blood types?
Deciding he'd idled enough at the border, Matteo moved back to Jericho's side and let out a howl, summoning someone to the border to meet him. He'd explain his good relations with Ezekiel if he had to but hopefully, whoever came would figure it out; he'd been in and out of the territory before. Surely they'd have seen him by now.
As his howl's echoes faded, Teo leaned half his weight against Jericho's flank, his arm over her back. This won't take long, girl. I promise we'll be home soon. The mare paid him little mind, too focused on the patch of dried grass at her feet to care about her rider's words of comfort.
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