Things had gone a bit stagnant for the angel warrior these last few months. She had returned without much ceremony to the land of her birth, the land of her heritage… and the land of her birth right. It had all been a bit overshadowed by the ‘rise’ of her brother to the status of King. What had he done? Challenged their cousin, who yes by all rights shouldn’t have tried to gain the throne by such dealings with the devil, but she hadn’t even showed? If it had been her choice she would have challenged the usurper for their home long before he had a chance to do anything like he had, torn our his throat for the world to see, not waited until Covet had moved on and the path had been made easier for Achilles to reclaim Diveen. But no, all hail Achilles the literal golden boy…

Oh she did her part, she protected the borders of their craggy home with a dedicated vigilance born of her time abroad. She had studied and trained for this, devoted her life to becoming some more, greater than what she was born of. As much as she aided her brother in his endeavors she lacked, perhaps, a certain blind faith that many others seemed to carry in the wolf. He was afraid even of getting dirty, almost as bad as their Uncle Azrael, how could a good king be afraid of getting into the nitty gritty of life. Still she could put on a good face, smile through her teeth when he came around, and she was willing to help him with whatever projects had need of her skills. Most recently she had put herself forward to track down the rogue wolf Zeus who fancied himself a God and who had become the most recent in a long line of threats to the Angel’s domain. She was glad of him, to be honest, she had hopes that this venture would convince Achilles that she deserved the title of his Archangel, and if it didn’t she would have to resort to more…direct methods.

Perhaps it is the curse of some angel siblings to live in tepid jealous of their siblings, Azrael had been openly affronted when Isola has been named queen over him, and she believed her own younger sister to shared in these feelings as well. The plight of Angels, she thought with a shake of her large, dark head to dislodge such musings as she exited her den home. The den site was rather remote and when she had found it the place was heavily overgrown as well. She relished the challenge, however, tearing out the shrubs and grasses until it looked new again. Yes she might have been covered in enough dirt to give Hyrule (God rest his soul) a heart attack, but unlike her Brother and Uncle she realized dirt wasn’t all that bad, besides you could wash it all off afterwards anyway.

Next she had to dig out the shallow entrance and sleeping chamber within once more, uprooting a family of field mice that had tried to claim the place in it disuse. As her long claws dug into the dry clay a stray, stale scent had caught her nose, something so familiar it was like a part of herself. “Taliesin?” she had questioned the dirt quietly, her head tilted to the side in confusion. She had looked outside for him but didn’t see his fiery form, only when she entered back into the cave did she smell him again. Lowering her head her wet nose snuffled at the dirt, scratch with her paws, and sniff again. Somehow she had dug up dirt that smelled like him, and every night since she had gone to sleep wrapped in the peacefulness that his scent brought though with no knowledge of how.

The air was fresh on this summer morning as she left her den and wandered down to a small pool nearby. She lapped the cool water hungrily; glad the hot sun had not warmed it too much yet. Mentally she went through her agenda today, scouting to do and border patrols, but it was all cut short as the most melodic and recognizable voice in all of Moladion wafted over the badlands. Her black face raising to the sky as she called back an answer, her own voice loud and gruff as she is, before breaking out into a run toward the source of her lyrical soul mate. She covers the ground with practiced, instinctual ease, large paws gripping the red rock as she traversed what could be a veritable maze to those not familiar with its twists and turns. Quickly she reaches the border, her eyes of deep violet and gold focusing on the cinnamon hued form of Taliesin waiting patiently. Slowly she approaches, her form falling into a steady trot as she tries not to show just exactly how excited she is to see him, feeling complete with his soul close to hers once more.

She finally reaches him, nodding her head as she inhales his scent which is now more familiar than ever. “Taliesin,” she says finally with a slight grin upturning the corners of her white-jawed mouth. It had been two seasons since she had seen him, since he had offered to walk her home amidst a roaring snow storm. The only reason she had not gone to see him since being that she needed to solidify her place amongst her family once more in the newly forming hierarchy, to gain her brothers trust and prove her devotion to their line. “It is good to see you again,” she says openly, hoping to prove to him that she had no intentions of disappearing on him again, “to what do I owe the pleasure?” She hopes, somewhere in the back of her mind, that he has come specifically to see her, though she would deny it if asked. Perhaps he has just come on business…