= Put On Your War Paint =

It is the cries that bring the male running- long, long red limbs pounding against the earth, ebony form streaking towards the cries of battle that ring out across the fields and the scent of blood that taints the air. He can smell Diveen and it is for this reason alone that there is haste in his stride, long, hard, toned form extended entirely in this moment, his graceful stride sleek and beautifully even within his hurry as those red-tipped black ear prick forward and the male is jerked to a halt atop a small rise, blue and gold eyes drawn wide at the sight below. He has seen battle before, seen blood and yet they have been nothing more than scuffs and play, training exercises that he had long ago perfected as a child. He is grown now, a towering creature of black and red, one built entirely for the battle and perhaps it would seem that the young warrior shall at last be given his chance- though such thoughts hardly take hold within his mind in these moments as Sulan stumbles weakly to the side beneath the barrage of assaults from a wolf so very much younger and yet one that seems almost to be�..wheezing, as if he has inhaled dust, the infant Exodus seemingly caught within this fray though Guardian hardly needs to hear this story to understand what is occurring. He knows only the stories of Tobias, of the infamous Black Prince and yet he remembers still that history, remembers the stories of eyes of emerald green- so akin to those sported by the dark male that pierces the flesh of Sulan�s neck in this moment. Sulan is Diveen. Sulan is pack- and it is pack he is charged with protecting above all.

Heckles lift along the tall warriors spine, lips peeled back like a fleshy curtain to reveal the fangs beneath as they are exposed to the light in this moment, a snarl spat free of his throat as the male suddenly lunges. He is young and powerful, form toned, hard and entirely prepared for battle, unhindered by age as Sulan, untouched by exhaustion as the younger, attacking male and as such the ground is eaten rapidly away beneath his paws, the son of Azrael and Andromeda closing the distance between himself and the assaulting wolves in a rush- coming from behind as another growl erupts within the air and sees the black wolf lunge. Those gleaming white fangs seek purchase on the scruff of Seir, aiming to pierce flesh and skin as the tall male hauls suddenly backwards, as if he seeks to throw the other male like a toy, teeth aiming to bite deeper and deeper into his flesh while dragging him back and away, throwing him to the earth of he is capable in a sudden frenzy of rage that is so very�uncharacteristic for the normally calm, equable male. He is famed for his even temper and gentle words and yet within him exists the blood of Assassin and Angel alike, the male designed to be as such, to excel within the field of battle. He is within the prime of his existence, raw muscle and power engaged now as he continues his assault. If Seir should be thrown down then Guardian will seek to pin him beneath him, if not he aims to maintain his hold and continue to ravage the flesh of his neck, dragging him away from the injured Sulan.

He was given his name for a reason, for the creature he will be, for the warrior whom will one day guard Achilles himself. This is perhaps his first true engagement, his first real fight and yet for all his gentleness, for all his kindness, the male is fearless in his assault, assured in his movements and utterly determined to protect his pack�his family, from this son of Demons.

GUARDIAN
Azrael x Andromeda || Soul of none || Mate of none || Angel of Diveen

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