The days had passed slowly and smoothly of late. Whatever dissension had arisen at Salvia's claim of power seemed to have simmered deep and low within the Salsolans, for no challenges had come, nor any mutinous whispers to reach the Serpent's hungry ears. He had been well aware that many harbored alliance with Eris, and perhaps had expected more aggression from her and her kin at this change of rank. But no treason had been voiced, nor felt with fists and fang - Perhaps even they had seen the wiseness in this decision, seen the ebony woman's descent from the throne as practical, merciful even.
Although he told himself otherwise, it was a lingering feeling of guilt that had prevented the King from seeking her out himself. Eris had retreated into some dark crevice to lick her wounds, and Sirius had made no attempt to find the location of such a hide-away. What would he say to her? It is for the best. He had been her mentor, once her lover, perhaps even in rare glimpses her true friend. Had he betrayed her by allowing Salvia to take her crown? Perhaps, but his duty was to Salsola, not to Eris Eternity. That was how it was, and how it always would be.
A call rose from the east, a wailing cry that summoned his attention. Strange, warm familiarity pooled in the man's stomach, his head jerking in the direction of the sound, disbelief forming a startled scowl over handsome, brooding figures. The howl rang in his tall ears a moment longer, before drifting into the eerie silence that settled over his kingdom once more.
Without realizing it, Sirius was jogging towards the border, then running. His Optime form was tall and lean, rangy and built for stamina, and it was as elegant in a run as it was in any posture. The muscles of his calves, his thighs, contracted and released with the power of steel springs, body twisting as he leapt over a fallen tree, hardly breaking pace. Huge paws, almost too large for his lean frame, were nearly silent against the mulch of the forest floor. It was not long at all before he had honed in on the creator of the call.
The border was silent, and still, but keen olive eyes picked the two - three, for a bird was among them - forms that loitered there. His breath, slightly stirred by the brisk pace, hitched a moment, dark brow-spots rising. "Zee?" Came the dark caramel tones, luscious and poisonous and all too familiar to the hound who had been his second, his right hand in the land across the seas. "Is that really you?" Sirius emerged from the shadows, stepping tentatively out towards the man. His narrowed pupils, almost lost in the mass of luminous acid green, briefly darted over the boy that stood before the man, but were quick to return to the Jester.
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