Well, well, well. Looks whose scent is is being carried through the thick, heavy air of Iromar. Andras knew the scent of his young sister well, so very well, and it was not to be mistaken when the aroma carried to him and pierced through the stench of rotting wood and flesh. Andras sat upon his throne of blood and corpses, of gators now dead. He sat tall and proud, though covered in a thick blanket of mist that seemed to gather heavily on this fine cold day. It was overcast, this day, with the clouds gathering above to block out the sun's weakened rays, and to shit out some snow, just to make this day even better. Yes, it is the time of winter, a time that Andras so enjoyed...usually. It was the season when the scent of females get so potent, so strong, that he could barely control himself from taking that scent all for himself. But this year, Rogue had decided to abandon him. She had left and he was unable to...ensure no one violated his sister. He was...slightly relieved that Rogue's scent touched the air, maybe she knew at least she would not be pestered by unwanted boys with him around. Despite his anger for her, no one should dare touch her.

He lifted his form of raven and blood, a haunting sight to see with his broad, thick face that held the snake coiled red around his eyes. He stood a moment with his sunset eyes narrowed, their colors bright and foreboding in the hidden mists of Iromar. For a moment, the scarred up brute almost looked regal, as he stood tall and strong, in a pose that truly showed his exquisite features. Rogue was here and he knew she wished to see him. She will have to wait, for Andras does things on his own time. With a ripple of trained muscle under his short and torn pelt, he moved slowly forward, each step more carefully planned and laid out before him, He was in no rush, but his body language was hardly pleased.

His raven hued tail slashes behind him as his mind ticks, thinking of how Rogue left him while he was most vulnerable to Lillith...though to be honest, he was always going to be vulnerable to her now, but he didn't...realize it then, and she had left him, his sister of blood, for her his own blood had spilled. And now, she had returned, for what reason Andras would know, for Rogue must have a reason. Andras pauses as he got even close to where Rogue sat, the grey mists still covering his great form with ease. His nares flare as he analyzes scent, mixed in with other scent so the boggy land, and he couldn't be certain of anything but that she was here, and close, but he felt like something was...off. Andras had a powerful nose due to his long and thick muzzle, but the watery land of this pack was more...difficult to work with, at least when one seeks in perfection. This scent, or change in, does cause his blackened lips to curl, and a dark growl to linger in his throat momentarily.

Onward he went, now a bit more hastily, the reckless nature of his movements coming out once more as he felt the flare of anger lighting up his very heart. His two-toned frame is uncovered to the eyes of Rogue as he came upon her, his head lifted high in dominance, and his eyes narrowed justly in suspicion. He stopped and stood before her only feet away, tall and powerful in his display, but it was not exactly his rank that enticed him to do it, oh no. It was that Rogue had displeased him, and his nose was telling him that she has displeased him further. He is silent as he stares at her, and his face has no hint of friendly regard. It is a stare down that lasts moments in the silence, with snow starting to fall from the sky that dance between them. Their dance is soft and joyous as Andras only shoots daggers at her, before his muscles ripple and he moves in, purposefully walking around to her backside, and when he was close he inhaled...and all we known for certain.

Hackles raised upon his back, bloody knives in a sea of deadly black. He slowly lifts and turns his head, his eyes searching to come in contact with hers with his fangs exposed. If she dared to look him in the eye, she would know the true rage that screamed behind them. Yes, if Rogue dare to look at him, she would know everything, and would feel the anger boiling deep inside of him, and she may or may not be able to quell him before he explodes completely.

"Don't tell me that my sister has become a whore. What is it that you have done to yourself? My Rogue would never allow this to happen," he said with his snarl laced vocals, as his head quickly snapped back, his muscles working with quick twitch reflexes to re position himself so his face was right before hers, almost nose to nose, so she could feel the hot breath of hell's fire shoot out of him, and she can see the intensity in his eyes as he stands tall above her in this moment. He does not know what happened to his Rogue, but it is looking like the Rogue he knew, may have died when she left these lands.