The violet blue opalescence’s of my gaze continued to linger upon the fields around me, towering white form of wolf perfection resting within the sun, each hair lit to a fine white gold as I reclined in some semblance of nonchalance as if pretending to find some hidden thrill in my daily patrol. Honestly I would almost be glad for some sort of Demon attack, the last time I had been here I had been given rather the pleasure of fighting of an Iromar wolf from her chosen prey, Enderly having become rather an amusing acquaintance after I had rescued him from the cannibalistic fool whom had been attempting to swallow him whole as so many of them seem determined to do. For now however I let that thought drift away, along with any others of my rouge son whom seemed to think following the stars was far more important then is own family, tail flicking loosely in agitation before a series of high-pitched wailings drew my attention. Honestly, is it not enough she has to send a shower of birds flying at me, does she have to shout about it as well? I think I may have managed a frown, or something like a frown, frown promote wrinkles and I don’t really do wrinkles. Maybe it was a lopsided scowl of sorts.
For her part however, the female seemed almost deliriously happy about the fact she seemed to have found some…dirt. This time I am entirely assured the look upon my features was more akin to a grimace. Alright, so I’m an assassin, I am entirely used to having things on my pelt, the better portion of my existence spent washing bloodstains out of my fur, hell, I even fought in the Diveen and Iromar war that had seen the demons bow in a defeat all Moladion had known was coming yet I have never deliberately gone and rolled in something as dirty as…dirt on purpose. Honestly, I never did understand the allure of rolling, much less seeming to celebrate the fact she had managed to throw herself on the ground like a common dog. What? I’ve always been a little judgemental, whats wrong with that? I an the Angel Prince, heir of Heyel, Dark Knife of Diveen and quite possibly the best looking male to ever actually walk upon this land. I think I’m allowed. I also have rather an extensive understanding of proper hair care and this female seems utterly determined to break ever rule of the hair care bible. It’s like she is almost crying out for guidance. I suppose it is almost lucky really that I seem to have witnessed her total lack of grace and elegance. Had I known her imprint was my own nephew, Ragnorok, I would have been rather ashamed to learn he clearly had not passed on his angelic heritage to her in regards to what is expected from the consort of an Angel. I taught Andromeda and really, if she can be taught I hardly see what wolfess can’t be.
I moved to lift easily to my long limbs, form sliding gracefully from my perch to move with effortless ease along that grassy plane, moving with the exquisite ease for which my lineage and blood is famed to approach the rolling female, pausing to the side of her, red shoulders aglow within the sun as handsome features tilted slightly.
“Why, might I ask, are you doing…that?”
I gestured loosely to her rolling, truly hoping she actually had some sort of reason and that she was simply insane or something nearly so unsavoury.
“I understand not everyone can be born with a pristine pelt and really it is unfortunate you are such an unattractive colour, but really, rolling in dirt is hardly going to help you.”
Subtlty….was never his greatest personality trait.
AZRAEL
"11 years ~ Andromeda ~ Sire of Meryl/Starfall/Guardian/Celeste/Iophiel/Mithos/Ambrosia/Elara/Zaphkiel ~ Diveen " 