It was around midday, when the sun was at its zenith, that Ferox was most unceremoniously roused from sleep by the din of a howl and the subsequent clash of voices. He was lying beneath a juniper thicket a couple of tail-lengths within the border, on a patch of earth that still lay bare of snow, shielded as it was by the innumerable boughs above it. Ferox lifted his maw from his paws, and pricked his ears to listen. It appeared that the howler, whoever he was, had approached the border in order to join the pack, only to be met by the youngster Calliel. Ferox admired her spunk, but also thought Isola was too trusting to let her daughter run around so freely and without supervision. Monsters also prowled Moladion, and a young pup who thought too much of her skills would be easy pickings. He grinned to himself as he thought she bore testament to her mentor, Heyel, whose own high opinion of himself had carried him through life and made him a king. Not too detrimental after all. The stranger, a male by the scent of him, seemed to speak to her in gentle enough tones and Ferox (who by now was poised to leap to her aid), made no movement. Where he lay, he could not see the others, but he could hear them perfectly well, as sound carries better over snow. They would not be able to see him, blending into his surroundings as he was, alabaster coat invisible beneath the bushes. His scent would also be masked by the overpowering aroma of the border. Smugly, he settled in for the long haul.

It was shortly after the brief, uninteresting exchange between the stranger (who thought himself a God?) and Calliel that Kane arrived, looking solemn but friendly. He extended an easy invitation to the other brujo, followed by a question. This was met on the part of the stranger by a tense silence, before he replied, as confident as you like. The hackles along Ferox's back rose and a growl filled his throat, unbidden, which he had to swallow back hard. The absolute cockiness of this wanderer filled him with disbelief. Surely Kane would reject such an improper request with the vehemence it deserved? Before he even had a chance, Ferox heard the approaching pawsteps of his sister and her terse reply. Ah, so like an Angel to speak as she did. It made him proud to hear her, and allowed him to be more forgiving of Kane, as the latter had not been born of Angels, and so he could not truly understand. He let his fur lie flat and got ready to drift into slumber again. However, as soon as his enchanting, lilac orbs shut, the tension in the air seemed to treble and a new voice joined the other four. What ensued was a confusing mass of sound with barely distinguishable words that didn't;t make sense. It was time for him to join the fray. Rising with a resigned sigh, he stooped beneath the lip of his resting place and emerged into the watery sunlight, gave his fluffy pelt a brisk shake, and stalked into the midst of the gathering which was taking place fairly nearby.

Ferox had appeared during a long silence, one which only served to highlight his entrance further. He moved with swift purpose, looking very much like Heyel in his youth. He stood taller than the acclaimed Zeus and, in his opinion at least, his beautiful tresses shone much more brightly. His tail curled slightly over his back in unspoken warning, his glittering gazers transfixed on the now silent assailant. Without looking at Isola, he growled under his breath so that only she, who stood closest to him, would hear,

“esto, soror, me tuum”
(do not worry sister, I have your back)

With that said, he promptly flopped into the snow, the picture of serenity. Not only was he sending waves of calm reassurance to his family, but he was showing this other that he was something to fear. And it was true. Born of Heyel, the greatest assassin Moladion had ever seen, he was a perfect killer. Tall and lanky, with bones strong as metal poles and sinews like pulleys, a well-oiled machine. Silent, deadly, swift as an owl, he could strike in one tenth of a second. Zeus would do well to fear him. He lifted a corner of his lip, showing the tip of a fang in a quiet promise. Only once this show of dominance was complete, did he turn his head to the stranger, looking up at him with intelligent orbs of purple fire, and spoke,

“Greetings, sir. I couldn't help overhearing your conversation with my dear family and, being who I am, I would like to point out a few flaws in your plan. To begin, I am genuinely intrigued at the fact that you call yourself 'King of the Gods'. Please, if you are as mighty as you say, perform a miracle and I will bow at your paws. If not, well, I knew as much. The very fact that you say you created us Angels is enough to prove you are a fake,” here, a snort of contempt, “We created ourselves! Heyel created us, molded us into the strongest family in Moladion. Just the children birthed by Isola probably outnumber your so called army who, by the way, have yet to show hide or hair of themselves. No, I think you are mistaken indeed Sir! Just because you bear a god's name, does not make you one. Why, if it did, Coza and Yojimbo would be ruling all of Moladion!” The fervor in his voice grew, and he wondered, just for a second, whether his family was gleaning strength from him, invigorated by the knowledge that this stranger was no more than a mad old traveler, “Until you can prove yourself a God, nobody here will bow before you. You were cordially invited to join our pack, as was probably the case in the previous two places you visited. No wonder your reception was less than satisfactory if you saunter about with an air of entitlement, claiming to be better than the Angels. So, I suggest,” here he grew dangerously quiet, a broad sweep of his head reminding Zeus just how outnumbered he was, “that you remove yourself from the sight of the queen and king of Diveen. She has already spoken – you will find no allies here.”

Ferox fell quiet at last, content that all the words burning inside him had been released The russet tips of his ears and tail burnt with the fire of his lineage, and his white coat seemed more luxurious than the snow. Zeus would have to be very careful of his next move. Hidden from sight, beneath his body, the muscles of his legs were bunched in readiness. If the wolf made any move to attack, Ferox would be the first to intercept him.