For a time she had watched him, this small pup that was the child of Iblis and Rhae. She had not had a chance to meet either although she had heard rumors that the King had despised Iromar. But those days were past and that age old hatred had been put to bed, so to speak, with the deaths of everyone involved. Iblis had passed, as had Heyel and Andras. Andras had died at her own fangs, albeit a mercy death rather than a vengeful one, and she still twinged with the remembrance of squeezing his windpipe until his eyes had dulled and death had finally stolen over him. Then she had decided it was time to go bring new blood to the marshlands. Her pack was not the largest and that did not bother Aithne for the simple fact that the majority of her members were close and if not close, they at least were fiercely loyal to her. A pack that was apart was nothing - loyalty was everything. Aithne was a vigilant leader if a neutral one. While she preferred to remain somewhat aloof and apart from the other packs she knew how to create an alliance when needed and she considered herself a firm ruler. Those who disobeyed would be punished for Aithne did not make laws lightly and always for a set reason.

While Halycon could not be considered a huge wolf by any standards - and Aithne was built like a tank with a wide body and a thick jaw - there was a fighting spirit within him that had held her rapt attention through the day. It might have been better for her to snatch him in the day and less dramatic if she had done so but Aithne had been consumed for a time with thoughts. How the world was changing and how it would change. How would she change his mind?

So she had decided, finally, to claim him as a prisoner of Iromar, if only to drag him there so that he could see for himself the merits of such a pack. One led by a leader NOT of demon blood, but separate. A new lineage, a new era, a new Empress. Besides, winter was a harsh season and she figured she was doing him a favor. The marshes never were quite as dead as the rest of the world for it seemed to trap in heat and the animals there thrived better than those of the plains. But Halycon did not want to come easily, he fought and she was forced ot push him to the ground and prove her dominance over him. It would work out, she was assured, but her face was stern and almost impassive above him while she cowed him into submission.

Then they headed to Iromar, both quiet, and when he asked her the question she pondered on it a bit too long for his liking. He cut in front of her with a low growl and her own lips twitched back in instinctive response, her tail rising as she stands over him, pushing him once more into submission. "You must learn patience, son of Rhae and Iblis. My tongue is not as quick to speak as some for I must be clear when I speak." Her voice is coarse and rough, normal for her, and moonlight flashes across the white of her chest and fore paw. "I have brought you here because it is safer in the marshes than in the wilds for you and also because I wish to show you that the memory your father may have spread to you of Iromar... it does not exist anymore. I am not Andras, I am not a demon. I am Aithne, Empress of Iromar, and although I rule will a firm paw, I do not rule by hatred nor do I rule by sweetness. You have made this much more difficult than it should have been." Now a kind of sardonic smile twists very slightly across her maw, the red ring around her right pupil seeming to flare in the beams of light. "All that I ask of you is this season amongst us so that you may see Iromar is not as you once thought. Half a season, if you must be stubborn. And if you find that you like it, perhaps you will find a place here with us. After all, sometimes fate must step in and take you by the scruff." Her eyes challenge him, wondering if the youth will rail against her or will fight back.

Six - Empress of Iromar - fated for Praetor

aithne