Times are tough and in winter they were much more so. Challenges had rung out across Molodian frequently this last earth rotation and it left her on edge. Aithne was a dominant creature, possessive of her home and it's inhabitants. Over-protective, one might call her, but she supposed an Empress ought to be all of these things. While she was not overtly kind there is a gentleness to her held for only those who have proven themselves or who wish to prove themselves and none for those who wish to steal what is not theirs. There is compassion and mercy just as there is violence and indifference within her - whatever is needed can be cultivated. She moves along the snowdrifts and creates her familiar pathways along the border, an ever constant presence for the burn of her muscles makes her forget the steely prick of the cold. Her wide body still has to strain against the snow at some points where it has accumulated yet she enjoys these moments.

Until her nostrils twitch and an unfamiliar smell creeps it. It is cloaked in the scent of her wolves, a clear sign of treachery to her, and immediately her hackles begin to rise. Aithne spins to follow the slowly covering tracks, sniffing and growling low in her throat as she moves with a rapid pace, leaving behind large paw prints in her wake. Would another pack dare send a spy into her midst? She did not think Taviora, Diveen, or even Spirane would have anything to gain by that. They had all made pacts for the most part. Eden had been a slippery eel, never agreeing to any terms, and he was a wild card that tempted her at times with the desire to play foolish games.

Yet this scent did not seem to encompass any scents of another pack and soon she catches the scent of Arkane, who had been busy of late lurking in the shadows. No doubt he was working on training himself and she did not rush him. The art of becoming an assassin and fighter was not an easy one. She spies him up ahead and also a black female, the intruder; Aithne's tail lifts high even as she steps up behind the female with her hackles raised and a low warning growl meeting the slight flash of teeth by the female. Winter has her hormones in a fritz and where she would normally give the other a nonchalant look of indifference, she has to physically restrain herself from leaping upon the wench and wrestling her down in a show of dominance.

The intruder is quick to give her reasons and it eases Aithne only a little for it she was a spy she would have to have a cover story. Emerald eyes observe her even as her hackles settle back slowly, though her dominant position does not reverse itself. "There is no Sodom here unless he, too, has decided to sneak past the border without permission. Arkane, have you seen another?" Her eyes snap to him and she waits a beat for his answer. "I am Aithne, Empress of Iromar, the home of which you now stand. Who is this Sodom you seek?" She eyes the female suspiciously, though now that the immediate threat is in her sight, she is much more calm.

Six - Empress of Iromar - fated for Praetor

aithne