This darkened earth is stalked by a beast so wretched and loathsome that the pale face of the moon dares not to cast its beauty upon his path. Clouds now shield the beauty of the celestial object from his wicked gaze, fearful that he may corrupt such a thing so precious. He is left to the shadows of the night, moving in time with that of those clouds that dare to keep the moon from him, they cannot keep their guard up but for so long. He is a hulking creature -- yet not overly so. Standing tall and proud, he boasts his father's build of strength and power, his body finely sculpted from the blood of demon gods. He is a monstrosity of war and suffering, agile on his paws and no less capable of bringing another to their back. He carries with him the lineage of the Exotica, a bloodline so old and powerful that it was told that they were the reigning monarchy within his home land for years. The lust to conquer and pillage is potent as it runs in the very blood that courses through their veins. He, taking on his father's legacy, is destined to bring this lineage to power once again.

The domain surrounding him is unfamiliar, its lay and the scents it carries no longer connecting with the fragment of his mind that was born into this place for what seems so long ago. Not a single tree nor rolling hill sparks any recognition within his devious mind. Though this does not trouble him -- it seems that Moladion had taken upon a new beginning in his extended absence; and with all things new, there were always means of climbing to power. His father had been given the crown of Mirovis under a new queen's withdrawal of a challenge, his aunt had conquered the kingdom in his home land when all had all but died out, and he too shall rise to this power in his time here in this newly birthed world. In time, things will fall into place.

This quiet night is not so quiet as one may first believe. There are creatures who call this time their own as they hunt from the darkness - he can hear them calling out between the trees and within the tall grasses of the field that he now runs through. His gait flows evenly and with perfect stride, a pace that he had kept up with since before he had re-entered Moladion and he would not cease this until something happened to keep him from it.

The moon - now without her misty veil - shows herself to him, her silvery light causing his pristine pelage of white to seemingly light up amidst the darkness of the world. It is in this moment that one dares to call openly to him, though unknowingly drawing the wayward beast in to his vulnerable state. The creature of blood and pitch colored eyes halts in his movement, his auds perked to attention at the sound of a fellow lupine calling out just beyond. He picks back up and moves at a brisk jog, the fine muscle tensing and releasing just beneath his sheath of snow white. He pursues the sound until he presents himself to the equally pallid canine, his stature speaking of superiority, confidence, and the slightest bit of cordiality. He was not here to make enemies, but he was never opposed to them. "Do you like to call devils to your doorstep? I don't advise such things.." His baritone voice resounded in the silence as his abysmal eyes lingered on those of the other.