Either he really was simply stupid, or the Common Tongue, like for myself, was not his first language- the way in which he spoke, his tongue skipping the conjunctions and adding un-necessary sounds indicated as much. After all, I have raised an army of children upon whom I have forced to languages and am well aware of how one is given to speak when one attempts to master a language not given to be dominate by blood. I suppose, given his age and that fact that I hadn’t seen him before meaning he surely cannot have been in this land long- he wasn’t doing all the badly. Maybe I shouldn’t have teased him so and yet really he made such a lovely target and quite honestly I was a little bored today. He was hardly the type of wolf I was going to exact my unholy revenge upon and yet, an Iromar wolf is an Iromar wolf and I will be content to mock him for the grudge I hold for that pack and it’s idiotic Alpha. Even the thought of Baphomet near sent my eyes rolling with dramatic disdain before the fellow spoke again, once more commenting on his running and how it would never be his strength.

“I’m inclined to believe you won’t ever be good at it as you say. If you haven’t mastered it by now you have precious little time left. How old are you anyway? Older then me I am willing to wager and yet I should probably be thanking you for that, I was getting rather annoyed at the lack of elderly males around here.”

In fact, to see someone older then myself was an actual relief, I had begun to believe I might well have been the oldest surviving and that, while sticking it to fate if I do say so myself, was also somewhat concerning. I allowed my gaze to rest on the over-sized male once more, appraising him as he spoke, introducing himself. Amissus Anima? I frowned- now where did I know that from? I had never met him before, of that I was sure and yet the name rung within my mind and not only because of its origins. It was in the Latina, Latin for Lost Soul. Now where had I heard this name? I dismissed it for now, placing this thought in the back of my mind for later consideration, leaving a small part of myself to continue to think on it while the conversation progressed. Who said men can’t multi-task? His words brought another chuckle to my lips, ringing lightly out into the air.

“Afraid of me? Darling there is no need to be afraid of me, at least not right now, perhaps later, when I work out why your name is familiar. For now you only need respect my potential to be terrifying.”

I smirked. Chances were he would fail to understand most of such a sentence and yet I hardly felt like being accommodating in this moment as I continued to question him with thinly veiled insult, the male continuing to remain politely curious as he asked spang outright why it was our packs seemed to be at war. Pft, war, if I wanted a damn war I would have burned Iromar to the ground, this was merely an altercation.

“I wouldn’t go calling it a war, dear Amissus, more so Iromar has taken it upon themselves to- for no reason, steal from Diveen time and time again. Honestly I could understand if such wolves were stolen for a purpose, yet why continue to steal merely to let them go again? It hardly matters, either way, Iromar has trespassed over my rather irritable nerves one to many times and my Alphas have seen fit to punish them for their crimes against us. We also tend not to like cannibals and Iromar is filled with them. Oh yes- they also like targeting my children in particular, if you’re a Father you’ll understand why that annoys me and- wait…….you….you don’t have a daughter do you?”

Zen. Zen had said his name before. Surely this was not the Father of my lovely Zen? Hell, she clearly favoured her Mother. I scowled, looking curiously back towards him.



h e y e lAngel King of Moladion