I was older. thinner, more frail than I have ever been in the past. But that did not make me weak. I had never been a pushover, and I never will be. I simply do not wield the same amount of power as I once had. But I still hold myself with a quiet intensity, composure still tall and blade-like with my sharp, angular features. I could still pack a punch with the time called for it. As I waited at the border, it somehow does not come as any surprise that the first to heed my call would probably be the last that wished to. My Stella.

The eldest of my double-sired litter had always held reservations towards me for my choice in mate. And though Devil had raised her as his own, Stella had always felt estranged and different from him and her litter-mates. Once she learned the truth, the cub had forsaken the dark assassin that had been a father to her, and sought out her biological patronage without so much as a second glance back. I never begrudged my daughter for her choices. Her life was her own to take charge of, and her path was one that was entirely hers, no matter what my opinion on her decisions were. And yet, nearly all of her life she has judged me for my own path and choices. Blaming me when I was not present, blaming Devil as her intellect rationalized that the fault in my absence lie with my loyalties to him, and yet whenever I did make an appearance, she always regarded me with contempt and derision. But that will never change the love I feel for her. My Stella.

Harlequin eyes crackle and spark with a liveliness that belies my age. Cracked lips peel back into an even smile at her approach, and I say nothing as she comes to circle me, my eyes trailing her figure, drinking in her physique, committing her dark beauty and unmistakable prowess to memory. Muzzle extends, jaws parting only slightly that my yellowed incisors may sift through the thick fibers of her hackles, moist nose pressing against the soft flesh hidden beneath. I breathe in her aroma, spicy like cinnamon, though laced with the musky scent of a male. A male other than Lucian, whom I had known to be her mate previously. But that is of little import to me. Spheres trail to her distended belly, and my steady smile broadens until she speaks. Translating into a lopsided smirk, one ear flicks back at the flatline of her words. Ever my Stella.

"Why shouldn't I?" It was more of a statement than a question, really. I do not wait for her answer. "I have missed you, my baby girl."

Another dark wraith cuts onto the scene, loping over a ridge and trotting down with more enthusiasm than his sister, and a soft chuff of welcome and pleasure drops from my maw as my son comes to embrace me. I lean into the soft caress of his tongue. "Kane, it is good indeed. You and Isola have done well for yourselves here in Diveen... I run across grand-children often throughout Moladian." A wry smirk is given, glinting with humor. "I only wish I had been here more to watch them grow first-hand... I do believe I owe you both an explanation, and an apology..." The humor had fled as my expression sobered, knowing I had a lot of explaining to do, especially to Kane. Stella was more informed than my son, being that she had come to visit me on more than one occasion during my time serving as Beta in Taviora.

"...But perhaps that should wait until later, for I believe I see a few of my grandchildren now." The seriousness never leaves my tone as two veritable bohemoths come slipping slowly out of the shadows one right after the other, and one only slightly larger than the other. Even if neither creature bore the signature marks of their sire, I would never have wondered as to whom their father was. Lucian was among the last of Moladian's giants, rivaled only by certain individuals like myself and Abraxus and Devil May Cry. His blood now mixed with mine in these heavily muscled, primordial beasts that were our grandsons. And they each wore the raw, savage expressions of instinctual heathens to match. Dual-toned eyes meet the gaze of the first boy to appear, slithering up beside his mother and casting me a hungry look before his dark stare turns to that of my son. There is not quite a challenge in the look, but definitely something dangerous and unpredictable. A fact that comes as no surprise. I watch him carefully before my potent gaze travels to that of his brother, with whom I lock eyes for a moment as lips move to speak. I do not look away from him, though my words are directed to his mother. "Care to introduce me to your sons, Stella?"

After them, yet another large male sporting a creamy golden coat and a crimson-dipped muzzle appears, taking up a space beside his father with a nearly protective aire about his posture, clearly disgruntled with the unspoken hostility that rolls off his cousin Arcturus. He is older than both Stella's sons, and my mind is vaguely jogged back to the time before I had left Diveen, and Kane and Isola made the announcement of their first-born cub and heir to the Angel Legacy. "Achilles" I speak his name warmly, flashing him a sharp-toothed smile but one that is not unkind. "I have not seen you since you were a tiny ball of gold suckling at your mother's teat." A sultry chuckle is given. "You have grown into a fine heir. Heyel must be very pleased."

And so it is I find myself surrounded by giants, like myself. Blood bound, family.... and yet many of them strangers or nearly so. There is another, standing in the peripheries. I only notice him because his likeness to Devil is near exact from the distance in which I view him. Radars jut forward as my vision seeks beyond Achilles to my former mates' pantomime, pupils narrowing into a vexing expression as I wonder at this stranger's identity. But for now he does not venture closer and so I do not address him directly. Morbid curiosity is peaked though now, and a part of me hopes he will come closer.